Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from September, 2011

Santa Claus is in town???

Can someone please tell me why Santa Claus is backing his fat Ass up into September? Took this at CVS tonight... It is still September! WTF mate! I understand that we should have the Christmas spirit all year long, but this is really going too far... it is seriously embarrassing Christmas is so commercialized that we except this level of advertisement for the holiday. Even if you are not a Christian (or especially if you are not) and just celebrate the Yule-Time joy of Winterfest, I can only imagine that this is just as ridiculous. I am not sure what we do about it, and perhaps that is the problem... how do we stop this errosion in a culture which not only doesn't have any sacred icons, but strives to reject anything as being sacred? The answer is, you don't , of course. This is the icon of our nation... not the Santa Claus in the window, but the notion that there is nothing improper about it, and that the real important objective is market-value . ... A bit of trivia I learne

Cairn - Rock Piles

No matter what I am writing about, whatever subject matter I wish to apply to a fictional scene, some one out there is a total geek on the subject. I'm very fond of those people. Cairn - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia : "Cairn is a term used mainly in the English-speaking world for a man-made pile of stones. It comes from the Irish: carn (plural cairn) or Scottish Gaelic: càrn (plural càirn). Cairns are found all over the world in uplands, on moorland, on mountaintops, near waterways and on sea cliffs, and also in barren desert and tundra areas. They vary in size from small stone markers to entire artificial hills, and in complexity from loose, conical rock piles to delicately balanced sculptures and elaborate feats of megalithic engineering. Cairns may be painted or otherwise decorated, e.g. for increased visibility or for religious reasons." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cairn Also see the Rock Piles Blog http://rockpiles.blogspot.com/2008/03/some-irish-rock-piles.ht

Family First

"Sure would be easier if Grandfather was dead." "Did you just wish our grandfather killed?" "No. I just said it would be easier." "That's horrible!" "Why? It’s not like he's more than money these days." "Jeffery! What has gotten into you? You can't possibly be so cruel!" "Why is that cruel? I am just being sensible. Besides, it’s no worse than killing your husband." "That's got nothing to do with it!" "You are saying that actual murder is better than wishing someone had passed away of natural causes?" "He's your grandfather!" "Oh." "Besides, my husband was terrible." "In bed?" "That too." Fiction in 101 words by Glenn Hefley © 2011

Brighter Than I Am

Your eyes in the morning; bright, wonderful and clear. The happiness in them as you look at me. Your smile is almost as bright in the rising golden sun. You have just woken, half of your face still buried in the pillow, so you don’t yet remember all of the disappointments, or the heart breaks. You only remember you love me. Today I am going to be more, change, move with greater power and focus. Today I will accomplish a goal, and strive to build a dream… so that sometime soon, you will give me your morning smile, in the afternoon. Fiction in 101 words by Glenn Hefley © 2011

The Fountain of Jephthah's Daughter

The sky is bloody, like a burn festering with black and sand. There is no sun, no moon, no clear sky to see the stars. Cold iron walls the garden with spike posts and bars. Forty by forty by forty by forty the rose trees stand in staggered bloom dark with thorns they grow from pure white sand, stark and bold the grains hum in the wind and sing when walked on. No stone, no gray mar the purity of the ground. Petals fall soft to the white, splash as drops of blood, and soak in, nurishing the ground, leaving no trace of  death or decay.  Death is always here, death is  where here is. This is the tomb the garden, the grave. She is no longer here. Gone to her afterlife, to her next life to the life after. Where ever that may be, but she is no longer here.  Here, in the center is  the fountain, and her form carved from the stone  of ancient beliefs. The  beliefs in a god who  demanded her blood as  payment for a battle won. H