The Graveyard

The Lair Of Gary James

Posts Tagged ‘weirdness’

AW Blog Chain – Fire And Ice

Posted by BigWords on August 23, 2012

This blog hasn’t been updated in a while (though you don’t need me to tell you that), and I thought that getting back into the swing of things was a good idea. Even better, using the blog chain gives me ample reason for mass linkage to some of the awesome blogs out there – and you really want to start clicking on these linkies if you haven’t visited the blogs before. So… linkage first, madness second.

orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to this month’s post)
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
areteus – http://lurkingmusings.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
Catherine Hall – http://theelephantinthetemple.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
bmadsen – http://www.bernardmadsen.com/ (link to this month’s post)
pyrosama – http://matrix-hole.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
meowzbark – http://erlessard.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
BBBurke – http://www.awritersprogression.com/ (link to this month’s post)
writingismypassion – http://charityfaye.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
wonderactivist – http://luciesmoker.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
SuzanneSeese – http://viewofsue.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
randi.lee – http://emotionalnovel.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
Proach – http://desstories.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
magicmint – http://www.loneswing.com/ (link to this month’s post)
tomspy77 – http://thomaswillamspychalski.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)

The prompt for the blog chain is “Fire and Ice”.

Image by Frank Frazetta. Go buy some of his paintings.

CONTENT WARNING – PROFANITY AHOY.

Fire and ice are at opposite ends of the thermal spectrum, and so aren’t linked by many things. Except volcanoes. Yup. You read that right – freaking awesome volcanoes at that. Sometimes it seems that the universe looks at our laws of physics and says “Fuck that, check this out” and does something outlandish. Not that, y’know, we should be surprised or anything, given that reality has already laid the smack-down on our understanding of life on our own planet. As a voracious reader, such things crop up surprisingly rarely in fiction because… Well, you simply wouldn’t accept being told about ice volcanoes, would you? It would be like those Kemlo books where the brat could breathe in space and had awesome adventures just because. Looking at the differences between fire and ice also brings up another question you are probably not going to give a damn about, but which gave me an unbelievable boner when I discovered it – you most likely know about absolute zero (−273.15°C), but you probably didn’t know that there’s an equivalent for fire as well. Unfortunately, some genius thought that “absolute heat” sounded good enough a name for this limit (where reality loses its shit and starts to break down), so scientists are forevermore doomed to say something which sounds like a bad eighties action film whenever they talk about this phenomenon.

Aren’t you glad I skipped over Gliese 436 to bring you all this other stuff?

There are a lot of myths about both fire and ice which are as fascinating for me as anything that reality throws at us – the phoenix, rising from the flames is an image not easily forgotten, and places such as Niflheimr (literally a land of ice) are as potent as any Greek He-Man wannabe. I spent rather too long a while back hunting down the origins of a rather more modern myth, concerning a Russian submarine which picked up a “corpse” on a chunk of ice only to find that the body (when defrosted) wasn’t as dead as imagined. The various tellings differ slightly, though the impossibilities of the repeated information make me think that somewhere along the line someone was having waaay too much fun propagating this piece of cold war nonsense – the life span of an iceberg isn’t that long, and to believe that the woman was recovered in 1988 and nobody has spoken about being on the sub which pulled her in beggars even the most credulous mind.

Those of you who know of my slightly (snerk) obsessive nature will no doubt be wondering when I’m gonna break out the inevitable reference to Fire and Ice from the Justice league, but… that would be too easy. And boring. Lets try something a little more highbrow.

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Robert Browning, 1920.

It is interesting that fire is linked to hate there. Written before the horrors of World War II, he couldn’t have imagined just how potent it would become for future generations. The notion of repeated apocalypses – apocalii? – has been a staple of myth for probably as long as there have been people. the Hopi believed that there have been three apocalypse events already. Handily, they occurred in the order of fire, ice, then the flood… I find this endlessly fascinating. Firstly, how the hell did they work all this out, and (more importantly) how did they come to that order? it fits with the scientific knowledge that a planet smashed into the earth, turning the surface into a molten goo. Then the massive ice ages (of which we are currently in the middle of a rather minor one), and… Hell, they nailed the fact that the last major ice age was followed by flooding when the sheets of ice covering giant chunks of the planet thawed. It is eerie. And that’s before we get into what the Mayans came up with, in between games of soccer with the heads of their enemies. It seems that no matter where you turn, there is another apocalyptic myth which begs investigation.

For everyone who knows anything about the universe, this is gonna be boring as hell, but for those of you who didn’t pay attention in school, it is important – there are currently two ways the universe is going to end. Go on – take a wild guess as to what those two ways are… Yup. Fire and ice. Again. Shit, it is almost as if the universe likes deliberately messing with us. Either everything spreads out to the extent that the skies will turn dark, and the end comes in a slow, freezing nothingness, or the universe pulls back on itself like a giant rubber band and contracts into a fiery point of everything, where the next universe will be born from a big bang. Like hitting reboot on your computer, though without any of the information being saved. Kind of a bummer. And don’t fret – mankind will be long, long gone by that point. Oooh – we might all be ghosts, watching as the shit hits the fan. That would actually be kinda awesome.

Aaaand that’s as far as I thought ahead for this. I suck, I know. I’ll leave you with a suitable song.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you are wondering how the hell I got through this entire post without mentioning George R.R. Martin, then join the club.

Posted in Misc., Over The Line, writing | Tagged: , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

A Quick Drive-By Post

Posted by BigWords on August 27, 2011



The last week has been rather hectic and weird. Weirder than Wild Zero. Okay, so maybe not that weird, but plenty strange. Normal service will be resumed as soon as the brain transplant has fully healed up, and once the thing in the cellar stops banging all night long – there’s a good lesson to everyone in that. Don’t read from the Necronomicon when you are drunk.

Posted in Misc., Over The Line, zombies | Tagged: , , , , | 1 Comment »

Mini-Fiction

Posted by BigWords on March 10, 2011

I know that the purpose of word wars (and the like) is to keep going until the time is up, but this came out “just right” before the time was up that I couldn’t add anything to it. It’s very short, but I found it hilarious as a first draft.

Okay, so I may have a very weird sense of humor…

Killing the man in the gorilla costume was a bad way to start the day, but it couldn’t be helped. Bobby made his way across the room, carefully stepping over the growing pool of blood and grabbed the baseball bat he had used, remembering that – at some point – he would need to wipe it down and dispose of the evidence carefully. The matted fur, where he had bashed in the man’s head, clung to the bat in clumps of brown and red – an intricate pattern not entirely unlike the viruses he studied through magnification all day long. Brilliant purples nestled in those stains, and blues of such purity that it was hard to remember that light once glimmered off the sleek aluminum. Placing it in a black bag, he moved over to the body and sighed – it had to be a fat guy… Killing a wiry little runt would have made this too easy. Biting the inside of his cheek, he hefted the man onto his side, so he could expose the zipper of the costume.

There was no zipper. Fumbling, he searched the man’s back for whatever device was used to keep the costume together – Buttons? Nope. Velcro? Again, the answer that came to him was a negative. Bobby’s mind reeled. How did the fat guy get into the costume in the first place? It was possible that he had been sewn into it, but everyone needs to take a piss every now and again, so why would a person go to such lengths… Letting the body drop back onto the floor, he moved to the kitchen. If he couldn’t get the guy out of the dumb costume the easy way, he would have to do it the hard way. Fingers playing a half-forgotten tune on the counter, he finally selected the right knife – not too long, and sharp enough to cut through the costume and the flesh.

As he turned, thinking of the zipper again, he realized that there might be another explanation for the lack of a way out of the costume. Heart racing, he looked to where he had left the body…

Growling, so tall in the confines of the apartment, the thing was making ready to lunge. Holding the knife in front of himself, Bobby said a quiet prayer under his breath and closed his eyes. This, he thought, is why people get away with wearing these dumb costumes. No-one ever wants to fuck with a real monster.

Posted in Misc., Over The Line, writing | Tagged: , , , | 9 Comments »

Corrections

Posted by BigWords on March 3, 2011

“While the Deparment of Corrections are correcting the corrections from the last round of corrections, on the corrected corrections rather than the previously corrected corrections, it is becoming clear that correcting the misconceptions about the corrections carried out by the Department of Corrections is rather tellingly required.” Bob paused for breath, mentally noting the chain of words (and thought) necessary to get his point across, “In addition to correcting the misconceptions regarding the Department of Corrections, a correction about the Department of Biographies should be included in the departmental notifications, notifying everyone of the correct manner in which to correct inaccuracies in biographies. Such inaccuracies in biographies should be corrected for the Department of Biographies, and correct corrections passed on to the Department of Corrections to add to the history of Biographies for the Department of Histories.”
Straightening his tie, Bob was acutely aware that assembled heads of department were in attendance, “In addition, the corrected corrected corrections forwarded to the Department of Corrections will be notarized by the heads of both the Department of Corrections and the Department of History, for the benefit of the Department of Notarization. I note that the Department of Notarization has not needed notarized notifications of the corrections in the past, thus a correction of the notarization process in order to notify the Department of Notarization of corrections carried out by the Department of Corrections will be made forthwith.”
“And citations?” A shrill voice echoed through the hall.
“The Department of Citations will be allocated, by the Department of Allocation, a stipend from the Department of Payments to ensure that citations used in corrections of biographies at the Department of Corrections for the Department of Biographies, will – once copies have been made available to the Department of Notarization – be forwarded to the Department of Citations.” Bob smiled at his deft handling of the situation, “I do hope that clears up any misunderstandings regarding the corrected corrections being handled by the Department of Corrections. I wouldn’t want there to be any problems for the Department of Clarifications to become involved in. Now that the correct manner in which the corrected corrections being dealt with by the Department of Corrections has been dealt with, it is time to look at some efficiency ideas the Department of Efficiency has for us.”

As I tumble down the rabbit hole, I wonder – Is the wordplay getting out of hand?

Posted in Misc., Over The Line | Tagged: , , , , | 5 Comments »

Taking Off

Posted by BigWords on December 26, 2010

or, One Man And His Spaceship
by Gary James

Firstly, some words by way of explanation for the following…

(if any story needed an explanation – or an apology – then this is that work)

Yes, I know it is rude to make you wait, but this requires something of a preface due to the nature of the story (such as it is) being so damn weird. It didn’t start out so strangely, but the thing pretty much told itself after I tried to do something unusual. You can read more about the way it was meant to play out after the actual story – so to refrain from spoiling the sheer weirdness – but I’ll begin with the reasons it exists at all. There was a small conversation about erotica on Twitter, and I managed to get dragged into writing something “hot” (and you can judge the results for yourself) by the evil trio of Regan Leigh, Claire Gillian, and Scarlett Parrish (she of ‘teh smut’ fame).

So… I pointed out – quite vehemently – that I suck at writing something anything even near the area of erotica. I don’t have the patience to do the slow build-up, and when I do… Lets just say that I need breaks to go think about something else every now and again. The writing of erotica is made all the harder by dint of the strange notions which occur while I am in the process of writing. That’s probably enough to set up the story, though I may have undersold the sheer awesomeness of the squick factor. If you are strong enough of stomach to read on, then you have no-one to blame but yourself for the mental images which might break into your consciousness over the next few hours thanks to this.

Happy nightmares…

——————–

Cade’s heart pounded as the restraints tightened against his chest, pulling him into the solid, made-to-order seat. The slick nylon fastened at each shoulder, around his waist, and under his crotch, forcing his back straight against the chair; the sensation of being seated whilst facing skywards already sending blood rushing to his head, exasperating the tension and excitement coursing through him. Breathing harder than he expected, Cade adjusted position slightly to alleviate the slight pressure on the small of his back, though the movement merely succeeded in freeing enough space between his body and the chair to engage the light whirring of motors – once again the straps pulled at him. As the manipulation of his body ceased, feelings of vulnerability fleeted across his mind as the silence of his surroundings became apparent again. Too tight in his clothes. Too warm in the confines of what small space there was to move. Too tense.

A voice seemed to speak softly from far away, and Cade instinctively reached one hand out in front of him. His fingers managed to find the smooth panels easily – soft edges and silk-sleek screens ready for his commands, and more than willing to accommodate his orders. Craning his neck, he saw a small hatch open in the wall behind him, revealing a cluster of thin, long wires integral to the operation of the ship. They writhed in position, as if dancing to the tune of some unheard melody, before emerging – shimmering in the half-light, oiled and ready for the merging necessary to give Cade control. Slipping gently over him, around his throat, into his suit, down across his sweat-slicked body, the wires began attaching themselves to per-prepared positions. While the robotic tentacles began slipping into his veins, man and ship becoming one, Cade realized for the first time how dry his mouth was.

Tethered, bound, and helpless, the ship began probing his mind as well as his body. Electrical jolts fired across his temples as wires slipped across his chest, brushing against his nipples as they continued making their way into other places. He let out a grunt, his left arm jerking in spasm and no longer solely his to control. Another cable wrapped itself around his waist, three punctures in his side making clear the permanence of the transformation and the extent of his violation. The flashing lights to the corner of his view revealed to him that the unwavering eye of the ship was doing more than merely watching through the procedure. The ship had been manipulating – playing – with him as it gauged his reactions to each new touch.

Caressed by the ship, wires brushed Cade’s hair from his forehead and began massaging his neck, nuzzling his ears with care. A few more had begun to move in front of his face, tickling his lips as they held his face in position. Pulse 220. Cade tried to concentrate, not helped the blood rushing to his brain – the wires had nearly completely covered his flesh by the time he managed to slow his breathing to light panting. Too warm. Too damp in his sweat-drenched clothes, and the tingling, brushing touch of the ship’s ministrations driving him crazy – the flickering ends of the wires had found his crotch and ass. Cade groaned as the tip of a wire found and began entwining itself around his cock.

Taking in a deep breath, Cade wondered if the butterflies in his stomach was his nerves or the ship’s intrusion into the deepest parts of him. A wire pushed into Cade’s mouth and brushed at his too-dry tongue before he had the chance to prepare himself, while the one around his cock tightened, moving slowly along his shaft to his piss-hole, flickering there for a moment. Cade arched his back,surprised, inadvertently increasing the pressure at his mouth as the cables stretched into his cheeks and down his throat. Gagging, struggling and writhing, his heart pounded faster as his cock hardened at the touch. A cable slipped into his ass, and Cade pushed into the chair, pulling his feet back under him.

The ship was coming alive now, vibrations rippling through the frame as engines began powering. There was a heat coming from without as well as from within, further distracting the pilot from any semblance of concentration. The shaking of the ship seemed to excite the artificial tentacles more, and as his cock was pulled from without, it was stretched from within. More of the cables had begin working their way into Cade’s mouth and ass, twisting and flexing as the ship thundered approval of its’ new captain through the deep groans of heated metal expanding. The noise in the cockpit had reached thunderous levels by the time he was enfolded completely.

Cade’s toes pressed hard into his boots, and his heels pushed against the lower part of the seat for purchase; for what seemed like an eternity he arched his back painfully against the restraints, heart pounding. Far, far too hot, a layer of sweat being all that was between him and the multitude of cables writhing over him. He was one with his machine, finally and forever.

——————–

At this point you are quite possibly staring at the screen, asking yourself “What the fuck did I just read?” Well, it’s something that skewered out of my hands after the second draft. It was meant to be a nice scene about a pilot remembering the last moments Earthside with female companionship, but soon spiraled out of control as I began editing it. The resulting piece (which I really don’t need a psychoanalytical reading of, thankyouverymuch) pretty much wrote itself. You can take from that whatever you want, but I would be happy if this stood as a lasting testament to the fact that I should never be allowed to write a sex scene.

You can start screaming and clawing at your eyes now, and thanks for reading…

Posted in Misc., Over The Line, writing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments »

Time And Numbers

Posted by BigWords on July 30, 2009

Joe Shuster, co creator (Superman), died at 78 on this day in 1992.

I’ve been reading the pages of information available on the net about famous dates, and what happened on which day. Over the course of three or so hours of reading, I’ve come to the conclusion that there may be more to ‘clusters’ of interesting and important events than first appears. The concept of leylines has spread from the alternative scene to mainstream thinking, but ‘temporal lines’ is my own weird addition to the theory of hidden energy around us.

It may seem dumb, but if you think about the incredible coincidences which led to WWI or the various technologies coming together at the right time for the first space flight, then there may be something in the thought. Every so often there is a spurt of energy and we move forward as a species. I think that it’s kinda connected to evolution, but harder to pin down. Maybe coincidences, déjà vu, doppelgangers and convergences of ideas are all connected.

Maybe it is gestalt psychology, seeing order and patterns in the chaos and random events because we (as a species) can’t bear to have no control over the universe.

The same things happen with numbers. Cropping up in clusters over short periods of time, the immediate (and illogical) supposition is that there is a hidden meaning in the numbers, but once we see a number repeated in different places and in different circumstances it is harder to break the feeling that there is a conscious power behind the ‘message’. For me, the recurring numbers are 4, 8, 12, 28 and 88… They seem to crop up everywhere.

On loadings bars for downloads, on the front of disks, on the display panel of the DVD player.

The craziness is spreading…

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