Two Paragraphs from My Current Work in Progress

This is a doodle of an eyeball glyph I did in Adobe Illustrator a while back that I’ve never had an excuse to use until now. If you scroll down past it, you will find an excerpt from the current chapter I’m working on. The species so described is part of the established lore of the fictional Environment in which my story is set, but I think this would be the first time I’ve fully realized it in prose. Might give it more qualities in future drafts, but methinks this is serviceable as a rough sketch.

At first glance, this life form looked perfectly harmless. Comical, even. Resembling a course layer of chocolate brown hair growing out of solid bedrock. Carpeting the walls of the burrow. The fur of a shaggy dog, without the dog. But as every worker knew, this fur was not to be petted. If one were to agitate the hairs in any way (either by accidentally kicking them or handling them in any non-gingerly fashion), such an action would trigger an immune response in the organism, causing fruitbodies to germinate in the agitated hair tips. A mere ten minutes or so later, these hairs would have evolved into thick, almost woody stipes bearing mature spherical sporocarps, each one with that characteristic appearance suggestive of the head of an old Morgenstern club with a shiny metallic sheen. One could probably see their reflection (albeit distorted) looking into such an anatomical structure. But no worker in their right mind would dare find out for sure. It was grilled into them from their job training that if a fruitbody had that certain silver look to it, it was dangerous. One should get as physically far away from it as humanly possible, with the same speed and sense of urgency as if it were a time bomb on the verge of detonation. Because in many ways, that’s exactly what it was.

That silver part of the Silver Brown never made a sound when it burst. But a worker would always know when it did. Their sinuses would instantly be assaulted with an odor that was as distinctive as it was repugnant – something like a cross between cheap men’s cologne and a skunk carcass in an advanced state of putrefaction, with a subtle hint of wet dog flatus. The unmistakable stench of untold cubic gallons of the organism’s seminal ether being ejaculated into the open air, a minute percentage of its mist and vapors invariably finding its way into the lungs of any hapless soul who just happened to be in the vicinity.

The Soundtrack of SILVER BROWN

These Should Be Christmas Songs (But Aren’t)

Expanding on my last post about Christmas music, here are a small handful of tunes I think should be added to the regular rotation of Yuletide standards if they should happen to enter the public domain sometime before humanity becomes extinct. First, I give you a joyous and festive number celebrating the reason for the season. Which is axial tilt, of course.

This next song lyrically gives an interesting take on the traditional story of the Nativity. The notion that gods and angels are in fact extraterrestrials will no longer be considered fringe ideology after the next Enlightenment happens, I’m pretty sure of it.

Finally, a tune that will enter the public domain sooner than the others, because all these guys have since left us. At least the guys that made any significant contributions to the band’s songwriting output (Marky’s still around, but he was just the drummer). This rightfully should be a Yuletide standard on even par with anything Bing Crosby did. What’s not to love about the Ramones?