The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Just Beyond a Gross of Cedars: A Visual Novella

Happy Canada Day weekend to all my country(wo)men reading this. If you’re into that sort of thing. Some folks have chosen to forgo celebrating the aforementioned holiday this year, in light of this, this and that, and the who knows how many more like those which haven’t (yet) made headlines. Others never celebrate it any year, because they’ve always seen Canada as an imaginary fantasy land that doesn’t exist outside the collective imagination of the white man. And you know what? It’s all good. Part of what I love about this country is that the practice of fetishizing the state has always been looked upon as weird. Unless hockey is involved in some way, jingoism is just not a part of our culture. Pay no attention to what our opposition leader said recently. A federal election could likely be around the corner, so he’s just peddling outrage and demagoguery in order to score cheap brownie points with the base. Because that’s what conservatives are into these days. Coming up with an actual platform is too hard.

The freedom to create a parodic re-interpretation of the national flag like this one without being labelled a traitor or being threatened with bodily injury by complete strangers is an actual thing in Canada.

Nestled somewhere in that imaginary fantasy land called Canada is a little hideyhole out in the wilderness where I went to get inspired for whatever it is I’m going to write next. It’s a short drive down a side road like this one. With only one lane. So if somebody else is leaving the hideyhole at the same time you arrive, you have to get a bit creative behind the wheel. But it’s well worth the risk.  


The chillest dog I’ve ever seen was there to greet me to the hideyhole. As chill as Canada herself. Wasn’t getting busy sniffing every crotch he could get his nose on. Like a lot of dogs would in a crowd of unfamiliar people. Just lying there, being all chill. Even after getting pet by multiple passersby. I wasn’t sure if he was naturally that chill or if his owner gave him Scooby Snacks an hour before coming to the beach. Didn’t bother to ask.  

Chill as fuck.
Somebody’s off to get more Scooby Snacks.

On the second level is an executive parking lot…

This ain’t my car.

…and when the moon is in the seventh house, the sand is pink…

I’m getting a hankerin’ for Baskin-Robbins for some strange reason.

Maybe it’s the same tidal forces that create that gnarly sand dune effect at the bottom of the lake…

The sun totally photobombed this pic.

…or maybe it was from whatever witchly magnetic energies are emanating from this thing…

…but somewhere along the way there, I ran over some huge industrial projectile that must’ve fallen of somebody’s truck, and ended up with this…

Fortunately some merrie elfin creature came out of the woods to lend me his tire compressor, so I could inflate the tire just enough to go back to wherever it is I’m hanging my hat at the moment. Which is somewhere down this road…


Flat tire aside, the only downside to this place is that if you suddenly have to drop the kids off at the pool, you have to do it like the bears do it, and I don’t mean the Charmin bears either…

…but the positives far outweigh the negatives, for sure. There’s a few literary ideas to come out of a stately-looking outhouse that nobody can actually use.

While floating in that exquisite emerald green water (which I would have taken a picture of if I wasn’t paranoid about dropping my phone in the lake) I saw a cloud formation that looked like a colossal larval entity with a face that vaguely resembled that of one of the minor characters from The Empire Strikes Back

This guy, specifically.

The Zen of SILVER BROWN

Your #Pride Moment of Zen


“If you meet the Buddha, kill him.”

— traditional Zen koan, attributed to Linji

I think this Jehovah guy is nothing more than a cartoon supervillain from a poorly-written Bronze Age comic book who deserves about as much credit for creating the human race as Porky Pig deserves for inventing penicillin. My apologies to the fandom, but that’s just what I think. Such a trifle of an entity is most certainly no excuse to vilify an entire segment of the population. Especially when the whole motive for encouraging homophobia is the basest and shallowest one of all — the cha-ching*. Somebody along the way (who was probably a GOP fundraiser, although I don’t know that for sure) figured out that people put more money in the collection plates when they’re fearful and angry than they do when they’re at peace.**

* Little old ladies’ bank accounts aren’t as easy to suck dry in a Zoom meeting. Hence the repeated insistence upon in-person church services in the middle of a global pandemic.

** Frank Zappa was absolutely spot on. Tax the fuck out of ’em.


How could you hate this face?

I fully get that any successful† media franchise is bound to have its fair share of colourful fans. That’s just the way things roll. But there’s such a thing as overdoing it with the colourful fandom, methinks. Every Stanley Cup riot of my lifetime has invariably resulted in a busy night for the Vancouver†† Police Department. That ought to tell you something.

Let the record show that “successful” is not necessarily synonymous with “good”. Plenty of gawd-awful things have become successful. The average person could probably name five such things off the top of their head.

††The Vancouver Canucks organization contributes millions every year to British Columbia’s provincial coffers. It’s a no-brainer that promoting any kind of bigotry would have a negative effect on their business rather than a positive one. I’m also pretty sure they don’t have any secret graveyards hidden away somewhere, unless you count the one where they bury all their dead dreams of Stanley Cup glory. Despite the boorish behaviour of some of their fans and as much as they profoundly suck ass as a team, they’re still more respectable than any church.


Have you even TRIED decorating a gay wedding cake? Give it a whirl just once. Hell, you might even enjoy the experience.

The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Meditate on This, I Will

More of the summer will be spent on conceptualizing than on writing, methinks. The upcoming season will be ideal for that. I do my best thinking when I’m somewhere near a beach…