My poor, neglected blog

Oh, I am a very bad blogger. I am, I fear, completely unfit for the modern age. I have yet to figure out how to compress my thoughts into 140 characters, and I occasionally have feelings that cannot be expressed in emoticons. I am a :( little man.

At any rate, the most egregious symptom of lack of modern je nes sais quoi is expressed most forcefully here, at my lonely little blog. But that's all about to change. No longer will I be the Bartleby of the electronic age, preferring not to share my soul in narcissistic, unread posts that sit on a disk on some server somewhere, waiting to be served. No, from now on, everything I think is coming out here, damn it.

And the first thing I think is "Who am I kidding? I'm not going to be a blogger." So enjoy it, fictional readers, while it lasts, because I might not get around to posting something here for another couple of years.

What I really wanted to talk about, though, was Shock Totem, a most excellent little horror venue. They are excellent, of course, because they took one of my stories. But, even more excellent, they seem to actually be enjoying themselves putting this thing out. They are a fun, enthusiastic bunch, and I admire them for doing it. So check them out, and buy a few of the back issues. This sort of thing deserves to be supported.

http://www.shocktotem.com/

Small World in eyeshot

The excellent and discerning eyeshot has published my story Small World, which can be perused in all of its gloriousness here.

Things are tough all over

Last night I got a call from a young man who identified himself as a freshman from my alma mater. We had quite a pleasant conversation, until I warned him that if he was calling for money, I was a writer, and, as such, had none to give him. And certainly none for my old university.

Of course, he was calling for money. And after fruitlessly plying my cold, cold heart with sad tales of a 30% decrease in Stanford's $20 billion endowment, he became curious about my apparent animosity. I explained that I had nothing against Stanford, really, but given its relentless alumni fund raising efforts, I had started to view it as a giant corporation whose main product was nostalgia.

He said, "Is it normal for college graduates to see their relationship with their alma mater as a simple financial transaction?"

I said, "I'm different."

A graphic illustration of the devolution of the Grotesque Old Party. A sad state of affairs, but fascinating from a strictly scientific point of view.

Outside the Box

Zombies meet the business world, and they find each other oddly appealing. A flash first published by the fine Opium Magazine can be read here.