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Deviant for 7 Years
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A little bit about inevitability
My mother led a very active life. She was a dancer.
My mother led a very active life well into her sixties. But then it caught up to her, as it does.
When you do something long enough, it starts to be a part of your self image.
I think my mother will always be someone who used to be a dancer. I think she feels like she's lost a part of herself.
And maybe she has.
In fact, I think the world lost a part of itself when my mother stopped dancing. I think if you look at the pictures of the Earth at night, around twenty-sixteen there's one less light gleaming, somewhere in the midwest.
But, everything ends.
We all will end, someday. We can give our money to medical research and read futurist magazines but the reality is everyone who is alive today will end, and there won't be any parts or portions or fractions about it.
And that's just something that, for our own lives, we have to accept.
Or not. To accept. Which is what it is.
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The Day the King Came Back
    Every day the gods wake up, sometimes as early as 8:30. That day it was closer to 12, for one of them at least. Lion groggily stumbled over piles of lost things and pointless keepsakes as he made his way from the bed to the bathroom. He comes to life in the shower, flat, scratchy moans replaced by flat, scratchy singing, and after a good forty minutes, he emerges. Naked and dripping, he fell onto the couch, pulling the phone from where it lay within the cushions. He’d missed a call.
    Stoat had been up since 10. He had no job, but never could sleep through the morning noises. Great, flying animals fighting and mating on the roof above his room, his mother’s radio playing EDM loudly down the hall. When Lion called him, he’d been doodling something abstract in an old, old notebook. He was glad; this doodle had been going nowhere, and he aborted it with a few dramatic scratches before reaching for the phone.
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Icarus Screamed
    It happened there, on the windswept wastes, mile after life-forsaken mile of cracked gray earth, flat and monotonous as ever a place could be, and dry as death. For days we trekked, here in a line, there in herd, remarking as we would on some triviality of the lives we’d left behind, or then and again at the way the familiar grayness of the sky here took on a somehow sinister affectation, revealed as it was in all its expansiveness, stretching to each flat horizon in every direction one might look. Without the presence of the high halls and towers of our home, so often given names like imposing, imperious, domineering, by the pained lamentations of our poets, the sky itself closed in, and we found ourselves wanting for those towers and walls, our much condemned oppressors.
    We came there in the thrall of Erasmus Ruseau, the mad alchemist of Oretz, enduring the hardships of this lengthy expedition for the same reason we did the scrutiny of the
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Mature content
Reddit Tomfoolery :iconconnery55:connery55 0 0
Reddit Shenanigans
We didn't know what to expect. Hell, no one did. For a spacefaring race to come out of a competition planet, it was unheard of. Supposed to be impossible. I mean, a sentient predator, what does that even look like? Can it be reasoned with? What would it even want? There wasn't a ship in the whole collective willing to find out, not a single family who wouldn't rather jump to warp and take their chances among the stars. But when we found ourselves with a fried jump drive, we didn't have a choice.
When we discovered them, learned what we could, Parliament put out a decree: No violence. They weren't about to get dragged into some kind of horrible... species-wide... space-fight just because a few homesteaders wanted to keep their holdings. A lobbyist had shown them a video recording, he'd gone to a competition planet on a charter ship, shot a few plasma bolts at the biggest, meanest-looking alien he could find. Cue the horde of screaming aliens scratching at the hull. The message was clear
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We've got hot-rods with eight balls waving way above reach
We've got bikini tops and goggles, man we're miles from the beach
We're driving, and striving, and living, cause fuck soft i's
And the war doesn't bother us, cause this tank was built for hardcore peace
We're Neobedouins in Arabia in space
It's a young new planet for a young new race
And our minds are like the skyline
Cluttered with possibilities yet reaching the very horizon
Racing the sunset to infinity
Racing the wind
The first one to nowhere wins
Share your canteen with thirsty lizard
Make a transparent puddle on the sandstone as the sun beats down
Watch as he bathes, spastically, euphoric
And smile, because we know the old forgotten thing
(It was never meant to be secret)
You gotta have this little to have this much.
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A man walked out of Hades.
There's a place called Hades
Where no one leaves alive
Folks who go to Hades
It's Hades where they'll die
A man walked out of Hades once
He didn't turn no heads
Cause this man walked out of Hades
He was already dead
He walked to Persephone
And slunk around in town
He filled his plastic holster
With a pistol that he found
He walked right through the people
He never made a sound
He snuck up to the guvnor's place
And he shot the guvnor down
He said,
Now we are both the same
Now we can get along
When I was high and mighty
There could be no right from wrong
When folks aren't on the level
They can't see eye to eye
You have shown me God today
For today's the day I die
The stranger saw a hundred towns
And shot a hundred men
High were all their stations
And hubris was their sin
They spoke a hundred different tongues
Had as many different names
They were buried six feet under
They were buried all the same
He said,
I have shot a hundred men
I'll shoot a hundred more
But it must have been a thousa
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Rocketeers on steeds of cosmic metals soar through the unfathomable doorways and sideways and byways and allways, expanding by change in pressure as the universe grows larger.
Black panels on white paneling procreates without sentience, a robotic army wanting for a hive-mind. Changing, producing, controlling, expanding, acheiving nothing.
What once was was once, what?
Enlightenment was first acheived by fire, but now by the careful coordination of electricity. Robosheep goes "Bleeeep".
Let me struck by lightning, for then I would be dead but unafraid.
Push to open, pull to close, jiggle the handle to reflect on the pointlessness of existence. Couldn't be simpler.
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I Smell Salt
I Smell Salt
We shimmied down the rope as fast as we could, but not nearly as fast as we wanted to, but probably as fast as we ought to have anyway. Down, down, down from the bestilted roadways that twisted and curved above an art-deco wasteland of scrap metal and bones. Handsome young millionaires in sleek cars sped past above, going far too fast to notice us, or so we prayed to no in particular. The desert beneath us was littered with the corpses of cars that had jumped the edge, driver too slow, too high, or too miserable to turn the wheel. It wasn’t littered with the corpses of the drivers themselves, but only because those don’t last as long.
Each man started running as soon as he hit earth, darting from junk pile to junk pile, not daring expose himself to the lights from above for more than a split second. It would be like this for miles, for hours, all the way back to the coast. The neon city Babel in the distance was too near-sighted and apathetic to see us here, bu
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Treyos Featured By Owner Dec 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fave on Ironclad! Be sure to check out :iconmurderousautomaton: for more mechs, monsters and mayhem!