In addition to all this crap I've put up here, I'm also a writer...ish. I'm a writer in the same way George Lucas is a writer. I've created a world called the Fallout Sand Box. It's a strange place and I need to put up more stuff, but until I do, I'm more than happy to answer questions about it.
Basically my idea is to create a Creative Commons universe where short stories can be written using elements I've created. I'd almost like to start a FOSB Wiki one day. Mmmm Wiki, I love the smell of Buzz Words in the morning. Anyhow. Stories and artwork that comply with the rules and timeline of the Sandbox will be posted on the site as submitted. They will be edited if need be and returned for second/final drafts or what not. Anyways, it's just an idea.

I like keys.
One little sliver of metal can open so many things. Giant doors, tiny locks. It's all force applied in small ways at perfect spots to do big things. Fifty men can be held at bay by one small key. A key is a work of art. And it implies things. A key means there's something, somewhere, that is missing it. A key doesn't imply what is locked, it only hints. House key, padlock key, car key, skeleton key. If you find a house key, which house? Is it worth anything by itself? No. A key is only worth what is on the other side of what it locks. A small, weak person is made monstrously powerful if he or she knows just the location of a key. Let alone a whole keychain. Buildings sleep and wake by keys. People learn whole professions just to be able to avoid using them and to take what is behind them. People are oppressed and freed by one. single. key.

I love that the only alternative to a key is either destruction or subterfuge. A key is permission. All the pins in the lock and the teeth of the key, they are a conversation; an exchange of challenge and password and all of the conversations that led up to its exchange. If I have a key, and you don't know where it goes, I can tell you anything. You don't know. If you take that key from me by force, I lose nothing. If you pay me, then I can demand anything. Keys are a perfect example of subtle and intelligent force.

That's why I like keys

I tend to get pieces of story stuck in my head. I just needed a place to drop it off.
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After years of travel and seeing marvelous and incredible things, the biggest thing I've learned is this: Most. Magic. Just. Doesn't. Work.

I remember the first time I drew a circle. The anticipation, the feel of electricity in the air. We said the words, we lit the candles, we poured the blood. (Alex's arm took months to heal.) And we waited.

I don't know what we expected; a flash of light, a gust of wind, a winged demon with bright red eyes to rise from a shimmering portal, something. Anything.

But there was just still air and disappointment.

It's been that way ever since. Sure, some days you see some amazing stuff. I've seen things that were trippy and frightening. But usually it's just...nothing.

So now I'm out here again, in the woods, knee deep in blood and apprehension. Acolytes fought and died to stop me. Something "else" is in the woods. And none of us know if the dingus in my pouch even works.

It's an awful lot of work for silence and still wind.

This is the hunter's badge of honour,
that he protect and nourish his game,
hunt sportingly, as is proper,
and honour the Creator in creation.

4/24/07
Today's "who you grew up with" is *Lennie Weinrib*! Who is Mr. Weinrib? Well, he was Hunk from Voltron. But he was also Scrappy Doo. That's right, one of your favorite Voltron team members was also the most hated member of the Scooby Doo team. He also did the voice of Secret Squirrel a time or two, as well as a place in Rikki-Tikki-Tavee and Bed Knobs and Broom Sticks and got his start on H.R. Puff n Stuff.
Other highlights include: The Man from UNKLE, The Dick van Dyke show, The Jetsons, and The Twilight Zone.