Wednesday, October 31, 2007

I got nothin'.

Almost six months since I last wrote anything here, yesterday excluded, and I still have nothing of substance to say. It's starting to feel like that'll always be the case.

Damn.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Long time...

...no see. I'm just dropping in to say howdy for now, but I'll probably write more later.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Store hours are now officially sporadic.

Because a) I've grown very tired of spending time in front of the computer at home, b) silence is more appealing than blather, and c) this site no longer functions as a viable news source for what few readers I may have, and not only because I rarely have news to share (only truly noteworthy thing as of late is the heartbreaking demise of Dr. Oliver Long Ghost, ferret extraordinaire, which I'm sure you already knew), I hereby warn y'all not to expect The Corpse to Speak here very much from now on. I may occasionally type up the odd bit of prose poetry, just so it doesn't languish in the back pocket of my jeans, but honestly, I reckon things'll stay as generally quiet as they have for the past few months.

I could be wrong, of course, but I wanted to make it quasi-official.

If you need to reach me, your best bet is on the
front_porch_of_Asgard@montrose_houston.texas. Bring some beers, will ya?

Still writing, but in a whole different headspace,

D.A.S.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Wu-wei redux.

My break from writing fiction has seemingly extended to writing commentary here, too. Hell, the only writing I've done lately is some reviews for Enslain, a heavy metal fanzine that I picked up a copy of a year ago. I wrote to the editor offering my services, just for kicks, and a few weeks ago she wrote back. Next thing I know I've written ten reviews and gotten my name on the masthead as the copy editor. Works for me.

Lessee. My brother's having a kid in August. I saw a handsome cat in the driveway yesterday. I've been reading lots of comic books, listening to records, sitting on the porch, etc.- whole lotta nothin', really. I enjoy it, which should come as no surprise, but I think my sedate existence is a bit more pleasant than usual because I'm slowly getting comfortable with the notion of not really worrying what to do with my life. Achieving x, doing y, putting z on my resume: not so interesting, and not really all that crucial. I'm not completely abstaining from effort or a modicum of ambition, but I'm not interested in striving toward anything resembling success by this world's standards, either.

Later, y'all. Stop by the house sometime and enjoy the porch!

-D.A.S.

"By action without deeds
May all live in peace."
-Tao Te Ching (Lin Yutang translation)

Monday, February 12, 2007

Since I haven't felt much in the way of a creative urge in, oh, several fucking months, and when I do I can't follow through to save my life, I've decided I need something else to do with myself. Unfortunately, since time travel, mastering Chinese overnight, and/or becoming the world's best sniper are out of the question, I have no idea what that something else should be. Suggestions would be welcome, if I didn't suspect that they'd be almost useless.

Good thing there's always the old standby: comic books. Life, you ridiculous noun, meet your new best friend, the adjective Vicarious.

Demon Cleaner (again, probably)

I'm sure I've posted these lyrics before, but fuck it. This song is that important.

"Demon Cleaner"
Kyuss
Welcome To Sky Valley

I've got the demons in me
I've got to flush them all away
I feel the demons rage
I must clean them all away

Yeah (yeah)

Inside i see more
Cobwebs in the way
The magic cleaner will
Shine his smile over me

I am the demon
Cleaner to save the day
I get the back one
Important they'll always stay

If only one thing that you'll know
Impostors from the show
They'll try to trick you into
Normal treatment
Oh don't you listen to them say
Shush them all away
I am the demon cleaner
Madman saver
I am the the freedom bleeder
Standing naked here to say
I'm the only way

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Every little thing helps.

While I don't have all the details just yet, I learned today that Dr. Long Ghost's biopsy revealed that he does not have cancer. Sweet blessed god(s), talk about good news. I'll find out more when I pick him up from the vet tomorrow.

It's not only the good news about Oliver's health that's got me feeling more positive these days. Last week- yes, xenisucks.com readers, I know how well those two words serve to diminish any sense of authority I might otherwise have- I started doing yoga. It's very much the kind of modern, feel-good, suburbanite-friendly yoga, but I don't care. It's a good introduction to what I hope becomes a regular part of my daily routine, and I actually do feel better. As everyone knows, I'm a lazy dude, adverse to many things that require time and/or effort, but I can manage twenty minutes a day on top of my regular strollin' around the neighborhood (which I'll do more of once the weather grows warmer). I've been pretty good about reducing my booze intake- not so good at quitting smoking, alas- and it seems like a natural progression to get some decent exercise as long as it doesn't feel like exercise. Going vegetarian almost a year ago was the first step in the right direction, i.e. being a conscientious, healthier, more relaxed corpse. Here's hoping that yoga will get me a little further down that road. Maybe one day I'll be able to touch my toes without my lower back shrieking in pain.

Credit where credit's due: I owe my introduction to yoga (holy shit, I just found myself looking forward to it tomorrow morning) to Dave. Merci beaucoup, monsieur.

Lessee, what else? The ever-excellent Rachel sent me a bottle of shou wu chih. I finished Lawrence Sutin's biography of Aleister Crowley today. They put a computer in the proofreaders' pseudo-office at work, so I'm even more isolated from people than I was before- thankfully. The weather's been gorgeous lately, so much so that I'm reluctant to check the forecast out of fear of jinxing it. Mucho Brant Bjork vinyl should be arriving shortly. Dave bought a teapot, so I've been drinking tons of pu erh the last few days. Asgard is shaping up slowly but surely. Writing is as frustrating as ever, but I'm working on changing that. I've found all manners of things to burn, especially dragon's blood and Solomon's Seal, that please the olfactory glands and clear the mind. On top of it all, I'm glad to be writing here again.

Yeah, life is all right. Hope y'all can say the same.

Love always,
D.A.S.

P.S. I know it's a little late, but happy birthday, Jen! Get well soon, and please forgive me for not calling or writing lately.

Friday, February 02, 2007

Como andas, D.A.?

Well, then. Looks like I owe what few readers I have an apology for my protracted absence. Simply put, I haven't really felt like writing lately. Sometimes writing stuff other than fiction or (bad) poetry is a reasonable substitute, but such hasn't been the case in 2007.

So, let's play catch-up, shall we? Como andas, D.A.?

-I moved. In early January the house in front of my former, rather troglodytic residence was vacated, and Dave and I jumped at the opportunity to rent it. Given the new place's amenities (a porch, gas heat and a gas range, a big kitchen, twice the square footage, hardwood floors, an abundance of windows), the increase in rent is well worth it- and believe me, the increase wasn't too hard to swallow. Odds are you've already seen the new place, which Dave and I have christened Asgard, but if you haven't, swing by sometime.

-I'm single. Wait, that's not news, that's the status quo.

-I have been writing, just a bit. Unheimlich merits an occasional thought, and I'll probably extensively revise Critical Hits over the course of the year, but there's not much in the way of new fiction on the horizon.

-Good ferret news: Tim Finnegan is doing extremely well. His fur's grown back, he's put on a lot of weight, and it seems that the medication for his faulty adrenal gland will continue to work well. He's also taken to sleeping in my bed ever since I moved into the new house. It's hard to kick him out.

-Bad ferret news: Dr. Oliver Long Ghost is dangerously ill, and the vet suspects he may have cancer. He's going to perform a biopsy on Monday so that he can make a proper diagnosis. It goes without saying that I'm worried sick about ol' Longtoast. Everything else this month has seemingly gone in my favor, or at least just been on the weird side of bad, except for Oliver's rapid decline. I hope he pulls through, but- and I hate to say it- I've got to remain realistic. Poor fatty.

-Miscellanea: Been catching up on my reading. Haven't been going out much (and don't really want to, either). Cutting back my drinking has gone pretty well, though I'm still smoking cigarettes. I also can't wait for warmer, sunnier weather.

And that, dear reader, is it for now. I'll try to start writing more often, but in the meantime, happy birthday to James Joyce, and y'all have a good Imbolc and Groundhog Day.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Oversleeping beneath the algiz rune

Half-assed apologies for the lack of writing lately, folks. I've had the holidays and work and general apathy on my plate, but things are looking up. One thing in particular, but I'll leave the details for later, when everything's in order.

ASGARD AWAITS.