A Thoughtful Holiday Message From Mr. Marvin E. Large

Mr. Marvin E. Large, a citizen of the United States of America

The holiday season is upon us, and I wanted to say how very lucky I feel having been contacted by Mr. Marvin E. Large, a citizen of the United States of America. He has a considerable sum of money (One Million United States Dollars) that he needs to hide from his terrible wife before he dies of lung cancer, and being a good Christian he would rather see said funds go to an honorable charity than into her loveless coffers.

I received notice of Mr. Large’s dilemma through an email entitled, “Do Not Ignore.” And it is a good thing he labelled it thus, as the message was originally caught in my spam filter. Even though he has never met me, I feel honored that Mr. Large gave me his cell phone number so I might participate in his scheme to deposit the One Million United States Dollars via a Sealed Consignment Box In Disguise and a special Security Company.

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The Limits Of Altruism


I have a habit of picking up various invertebrates that are wandering in the middle of the sidewalk and placing them on safer ground. Snails, caterpillars, even earthworms. I am sorry to say that have not brought myself to be able to try this with slugs yet, because they are too sticky (after a good rainfall in my neighborhood is like a slug massacre).

I pick up these creatures because I cannot bear the thought of a big shoe crushing the bejesus out of them. I feel I am doing these little creatures a big solid, by helping them out like that.

But am I really?

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Mutant Days, Part 3


I want to write about people I love, and put them into a fictional world spun out of my own mind, not the world we actually have, because the world we actually have does not meet my standards.
–Philip K. Dick

When I ended the last installment of “Mutant Days” I had left home, moved in with my platonic 32-year-old male friend, and proceeded to read all the esoteric books in his apartment. While other teens were out going to the mall with their buddies and girlfriends, I was reading William Bramley’s The Gods Of Eden. While other girls were preparing for their prom, I was reading The Book Of Lies: The Disinformation Guide To Magick And The Occult.

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The Curse Of DC Comics


I never wanted you to come back to Gotham. I always knew there was nothing here for you, except pain and tragedy. And I wanted something more for you than that. I still do.
–Alfred Pennyworth, “The Dark Knight Rises”

On this blog I once asked the question, “Is There A Superman Curse?” I presented the circumstantial evidence—the centerpiece of which was similar-sounding George Reeves and Christopher Reeve, famous for playing the character, both died relatively young. (Between the revelations concerning Kevin Spacey, who played Lex Luthor in Superman Returns, and the apparent “Smallville Girls Sex Slave Cult,” I may have to revise that particular post in the near future.)

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Getting Out Of One’s Own Way


Over the past several years, I’ve found myself settling back into a routine I thought I had left behind: eating poorly, relying on caffeine and sugar as my “fuel” for the daily work grind, and kicking back in my free time with alcoholic beverages. My daily “ritual” didn’t seem to be that much different than that of large sections of my peer group: it was all “normal” ways to stay productive, unwind, and generally “enjoy life.”

My body was crap. It felt like crap.

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