The Shaman War

“The border between the Real and the Unreal is not fixed, but just marks the last place where rival gangs of shamans fought each other to a standstill.”

– Robert Anton Wilson

“There’s so few of us now,” Lucinda said. He stepped over the wreckage of the passenger craft down the torn remnants of a hallway. “Ebabwe is gone, so is Helena. There are so few of us to shape things anymore.”

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The Rabbit’s Last Stand: Postmortem

…In which I explain the joke and therefore rob it of all power.

“The Rabbit’s Last Stand” is a small project that hopped out of my control, and good thing too. It started off as a lark, turned into a writing prompt, and ended as a story with an actual end.

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The Weekend Redirect – KITCHEN CRASH by Basilike Pappa on the site SILENT HOUR

Constraints can shape art. A good example is the band “The White Stripes.” The very limited drum skills Meg White brought to the table actually created a unique and successful sound.

Another great example is this piece called “Kitchen Crash” on Basilike Pappa’s amazing blog “Silent Hour.” Each sentence contains eight words, which match the number of letters in the word “omelette.” These self-imposed constraints shaped and informed the art.

While there, check out the rest of this site. It contains a great mix of poetry and prose. This is someone to pay attention to!


Silent Hour

‘It made my hair turn white,’ Dimitris said.

‘It formed stalactites in my mouth,’ Vassia said.

‘Seriously now, guys, it cannot be that bad.’ Christos mildly defended his cooking, fork in hand.

‘Go on, have a bite,’ Vassia urged, smiling.

‘A big one,’ Dimitris added, reaching for water.

Christos bravely thrust his fork into the omelette. He cut a piece thick with triple cheese. He brought it to his mouth and chewed.

Dimitris and Vassia watched attentively for his reaction. They saw every twitch that touched his face. Finally, the chewing came to a grateful stop.

‘Well?’ they said, their voices united in amusement.

‘You were right, too much salt,’ Christos admitted. ‘Like a sea wave crushing against my tongue.’

His elbow brushed against the bottle of wine. It pirouetted awkwardly and shattered on the floor. Christos’ face fell, exactly like his spirit had. Laughing, Vassia got up and brought…

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Disposable Fiction – The Rabbit’s Last Stand: Part Ten – Nous Sommes Une Collection de Connards!

Part TEN?! How much longer is this going to go on?! Wait… I have been informed that THIS IS THE LAST OF THE RABBIT’S LAST STAND SERIES!!!!! If you are still reading, please look under your seat for a potential gift!

For a glorious remembrance of things past, peruse PART ONEPART TWOPART THREEPART FOURPART FIVEPART SIX, and PART SEVEN, PART EIGHT, and PART NINE!

The Story So Far…

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Disposable Fiction – The Rabbit’s Last Stand: Part Eight – BOOM!

Well, despite all of my best endeavors, PART EIGHT has happened. I know that you and I had that talk and we thought we were of an accord on this. But things happen, life intervenes, people change over time, folks fall into pits, governments ascend and descend, and zoological signs proceed slowly across the sky in a twenty-five thousand year cycle and next thing you know a Pisces is a Gemini.

All I am saying is although we didn’t anticipate it, PART EIGHT is here and we’re going to have to deal with it – meaning PLEASE ENJOY! And afterwards, please send PART ONEPART TWOPART THREEPART FOURPART FIVEPART SIX, and PART SEVEN some love!

The Story So Far…

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