August 3, 2012
So, a few things.
First, Street Fighter is 25. What the hell. Thanks, Wil Wheaton.
I’m out of rant for today about big things and important things other than asking what you, my readers, are doing to make your world a better place. A shout out to Nerdfighteria, who are working diligently to lower world suck every day. Unfortunately I cannot fully call myself a nerdfighter as I hold myself to some pretty ridiculous philosophical and ethical positions and many of those in the Nerdfighter ranks would find me disturbed for it. But that should be obvious as it would be really difficult for me to find anything redeeming about someone who claims to be anti-feminist and I know there’s a couple nerdfighters out there that to. Mostly thanks to the Men’s Rights Movement.
Speaking of the Men’s Rights Movement, fuck you. I’m personally sick and tired of the bullshit on Reddit, I’m sick and tired of the bullshit around FreeThought Blogs and Skepchick, I’m tired of the bullshit of these people trying to speak for me.
I am a man. I’m a cisman. I’m a cisgendered white man. I am a pansexual, omnisexual, bisexual cisgendered white man. Everyone from DJ Groethe to the director of CFI Canada to A Voice For Men are full of shit and using authority borrowed from their professional station (or from whimsy and fantasy, AVFM) to speak about things they both have no education in and no authority in. They do not represent me. They do not speak for me. They do not even speak rationally. All of the things in this discussion that we’re fighting over, from harassment policies to rape culture to women? A lot of these cultural elements have been proven in sociological studies. If they’d bother to check.
So yeah, Men’s Rights Movement? Fuck your face with a hedge-trimmer.
An update on those things that are important to me, as a philosophical stance. I am an atheist, I am an antitheist, I am a feminist, I am a liberal. All of these stances come from observation, data, and science. I’m willing to discuss any of these positions with anyone so long as you are not a bad actor. So far I haven’t had to even think of a comment policy yet (cue cut to comment section with two comments and a tumbleweed) but you can rest assured that if you come in and start arguing in bad faith, you start trolling, or you start using this as a platform for something then I’m going to delete your comments. I’m unemployed and disabled. I have the time to do this.
Speaking of being unemployed and disabled, I’m also homeless! However, the place I was living in was sapping me of everything involved in the will to live, so I’m happier right now. However, if anyone in Southern California knows of a furnished room on the cheap I can rent for a few months, I’d love to know. I’m trying to get my family to help me with a motel room until I can find a permanent place to live but they’re being…unreliable. I’ve got a friend who might have a place for me in a few months but until then I’m sleeping on a couch and it’s hell on my back. And all my other joints. Plus, privacy? What’s that? So yeah, my crowd of two, please help me find a place to crash for a bit.
Uh, what else. Working on two new short stories right now but it’s hard coming from the place I was in. Currently theorizing a story about a Steampunk China if the Opium Wars had never ended. Enjoy history? China? The Victorian period? Imperialism? Anything related to this? Send me snippets of information, data, what have you and I’ll boil them down into a few story ideas. I’m thinking of watching Ip Man and Ip Man 2 again for some inspiration. And because they’re fantastic martial arts movies.
Now I’m going to go back to missing my partner like a love struck fool, relaxing my back, and trying to come up with ideas.
Happy Esther day.
June 27, 2012
Eighty years ago, things changed.
Eighty years ago, the Great Kingdoms were attacked by the Famine and people died. Civilization died. Things changed.
Eighty years ago, the mountains shook and shuddered and rumbled. Down from the peaks came whole clouds of the Famine-Flyers. Insects as big as a fist that’d eat anything. Especially steel. Especially the flesh and armor of the great Knights, our Heroes, our Kings. They ate up all of the defenses and all of our food until we adapted. Until things changed.
Eighty years ago, the Famine started. It lasted for five years and killed nine in ten. If not from the Famine-Flyers, from the starvation. From the cold. From the fear. Now things have changed and the world’s moved on. The knights and soldiers carry hard iron now. The wizards and will-workers use science and genius to supplement their magics, since the world is weak and faithless. Clerics have taken up The Black and the serve the Saints in their own ways, burying the dead and healing the sick. Trappers, Trackers, and Scouts have taken up the Rifle to claim the land back from the Famine-Flyers – even if it is just a desert now. The common people have had to become hard-bitten and competent, honing their skills to razors. And over them all are the Marshals, keeping the peace and serving the Righteous Law since the Temple Knights all died fighting the Famine.
Things changed, the world’s harder now. But we get along.
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June 7, 2012
I totally missed posting yesterday and that’s my fault.
So here’s more Out of Thyme! Technically this is a followup to the last chapter posted, and after this I’ll be writing a new chapter for Out of Thyme. Between the last post and this one, as well, is probably going to be more fighting. Because I like writing fight scenes but I just couldn’t wrap my head around this one.
May 28, 2012
But here’s the beginning of what I’m working on for my Victorian superhero team.
I don’t know what it is but I just can’t string words together today.
May 25, 2012
So I wrote this thing on G+ the other day. Read it -
“Have you ever observed the ant or the rabbit, Woolsey?” Doctor Albarth Rotterchilde walked down the dark staircase hidden at the back of the Alpha-Beta Club – the newest eugenecist club in the Empire – closely followed by his manservant Cal Woolsey.
“They are cooperative creatures, reliant and trusting on each other. The ant works together as a united organism, gathering food and building large and complex structures to support their diminutive race. Quite inspiring.” The pair swept through a long, dark hallway and passed through a door locked with a complex puzzle of bones, skulls, and weights.
“The rabbit, similarly, is dependent on the rest of the warren. They build together. They warn each other. They elicit some form of information on where food and safety are to be found. And they scream to notify others of death, so that they may prepare the body or bury. Honestly, I am not sure of the particulars of the practices of rabbit burial.” Inside the room at the end of the hallway, Albarth began to strike up electric lamps bolted onto rough-hewn stone walls. The chamber they were in now was large, cavernous, and smelled slightly of dampness, metal shavings, and mechanic’s grease.
“I think that the current political climate, the current philosophical climate, has infected mankind. We have been driven away from cooperation for the betterment of the species and fallen into a trap of superiority. We’ve come to value independence and individuality to the point of sacrifice of our fellow man.” Albarth pulled a sheet off of a massive object at the center of the room, releasing a flurry of dust, grease, and the sound of silk against steel. Underneath sat a massive suit of armor, covered in black silk and holding a staff of brass and copper.
“I believe that this is because humanity no longer has an apex predator to fear. Man believes that it is above the fear of nature, the necessity to work together, the interdependence of the species. So I have built this.” Albarth climbed into the armor, pulled the helmet down, and activated its etherlectric engines. A blue glow filled the death’s head mask and soft, rolling mist poured from the helmet and gloves, while the staff crackled with power and a haunting blue scythe blade grew out of it.
Albarth looked to Woolsey and in a dark, unearthly voice he commanded, “Call me Thanos, God of Death. Bringer of fear. Instructor of mortality.”
So I’m writing my own Steampunk Avengers. Sorta.
May 2, 2012
Well, I missed Monday and I couldn’t post yesterday ’cause, well, I was participating as much as I could in the General Strike.
So here’s two chapters!
April 27, 2012
I’m still playing around with my newish steampunk fantasy setting. Hopefully I find something really nice through all this digging around.
Anyway, I hope you’re enjoying everything, sharing links with your friends, that kind of thing.
See you all around!