In Flux

It’s funny how one comment can propel you down memory lane which—if you’re observant and lucky—can serve as an on-ramp to something better. Recently a friend of mine commented on an illustration of Ada-as-Sisyphus (which is a major theme in Deukollectrum) as reminding her of Aeon Flux. Fortunately, tucked away in the DVD collection, I actually had the three-disc boxed set of the animated shorts, the “pilot,” and 10 episodes MTV began airing around 1995.

Based on the fan art above, you might think Aeon was something of a progenitor of Ada, but I’ve searched my subconscious on this subject, and had even done so when I bought the DVD set a long time ago when Everyday Music existed on Capitol Hill in Seattle. But the more I thought and reflected on it, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a case of convergent evolution. Continue reading “In Flux”

November 29, 2020April 12, 2022

A visit to the Garden of Forking Paths

The Garden of Forking Paths

I remember it was in Geneva where I first met him. We sat not too far from one another—his assistant, an attractive woman named Maria, was with him and helped make the selection of something to drink through the customary consideration of a menu. While blind, he knew the menu intimately, so the ritual was somewhat meaningless. At the time, I was surprised they were not ordering maté, but rather coffee, which I was also drinking. We fell to discussing books and my immediate post-adolescent appreciation for Schopenhauer. Then as now, much of it had to do with Schopenhauer’s clear style—the more pessimistic aspects also found an appreciative home in my burgeoning cynicism and misanthropy. Continue reading “A visit to the Garden of Forking Paths”

October 1, 2020

Ghost Stories

cover artwork for Mammoth Book of Ghost Stories

Well, it is October…

I picked up The Mammoth Book of Ghost Stories 2, from Magus Books in Seattle when I was attending Graduate School. Magus Books is an archetypal used bookstore that one can sometimes find near Universities: in an old brick building covered with ivy and loaded down to the gills with all manner of volumes. It wasn’t the first book of supernatural tales I had bought. As a teenager, I read much of Stephen King’s output and from there onto Clive Barker. In fact, the story I had submitted to the Creative Writing Department at the University of Washington was a ghost story, although not the wet, dangerous work of King or Barker.

I still have The Mammoth Book of Ghost Stories 2, because in there was my first contact with M.R. James. Continue reading “Ghost Stories”