8FOLD: Mighty Medley # 9, September 2014, by Messrs. Brenton, Perron & Russell

Andrew Perron pwerdna at gmail.com
Fri Oct 10 23:57:55 PDT 2014

On 9/1/2014 7:58 AM, Tom Russell wrote:
> "Space Invaders", by Tom Russell
> A difficult story. Difficult to summarize in this space, difficult to
> read-- but as with all things difficult, perhaps it too has its
> rewards.

Hmmmmm! More experimentalism! <3

> "Beyond the Fields" Part 9, by Saxon Brenton
> Offering a fascinating glimpse into the physical and social lives of
> the heavenly host, and a more unsettling glimpse into the nature of
> the landscape painting. Containing the tale of Taraniel, and the story
> of the insidious month of May 1969.

Sino-Malay sectarian violence in Kuala Lumpur?

>     The ancient Lemurian ceremony is being sung in Ancient Lemurian, so
> the afternoon Melody spent mastering their modern tongue is pretty
> much useless. But she's pretty sure the fish-ninja bursting through
> the stained glass windows aren't part of the act.


>      The fish-ninja reaches into his belt for his fishurikens.


>     "Also me," says Darkhorse, using them like cards to do a
> self-satisfied accordion flush. "Afraid I was a little clumsy, though.
> Sliced your bag of knockout dust."
>     The fish-ninja holds up the bag to investigate it. "No you didn't!"
>     "Knew I forgot something. Easily remedied." The fishuriken rips
> through the bag; a cloud of knockout dust billows forth; the
> fish-ninja collapses.

Wonk wonk waaaaa. <3

>     "Leaving one million dollars, labor. To kill a speedster and die
> two years younger? Yeah, for that? A million's cheap. Practically
> doing it for free."


> The y thin k t he Go r go n is be hind it. I don 't k now a bout t
> hat; doe snots e em hi s M .O. N or FE V ER' s.

Ahhhhh, I see.

>     D id no t s top the re, wit hour pho ne sand lap to ps. Eve nonce
> wed is con ne c ted, t hoses paces pop p e dup al la round: an a log
> type writ e r s, new sprint, long h and. T hen, terrify in g, s pee c
> hand though tit self.

That would be *so annoying*.

> D add is gust ed t hiss on be cause hel et j us tone p art de fin eh
> is en t ire s elf. Hel o stone ski l land le tit de s troy bot ho f
> the m. Al lo f us. In ever for g ave hi m fort hat.
>     Butt here's ad is tin c tan dun be arable pos sib i lit y t hat In
> ever w ill w rite ac oh er ent orc om p el ling par a graph eve rag a
> in. T hew or d s t ha ton cede lighted m enow rank le, ass on go n ceo
> v er whelmed afor me r te nor wit hat err i b lean g er.

Ahhhhhh, I get it. (And "it" is a headache.)

> "I am fine," she replied.  "It's
> always nice to get back to the celestial Jerusalem, even for a brief
> topover.  Most of my immediate friends are also doing well."  Then
> she added, "Taraniel is unfortunately still in the equivalent of a
> coma, but he's expected to recover soon.  Without going into too many
> details, he was on mission to stop a Hell-wrought scheme, and things
> escalated out of control."  She gave Deidre an arch smile. "He managed
> to put a stop to it all right," then she sighed, "but there were a lot
> of explosions involved, and he took some trauma when his body was
> destroyed."

Hmmmmmm! A pretty neat look into her world.

>     Deidre stated at her.  "So it's not just an idea of what someone
> wants the world to be like.  It's from a somewhere else where the world
> actually is like that."


>     Joan recognised the reference to the few occasions that the month
> of May 1969 had turned up, calling itself the Summer of Love, and tried
> to impose the zeitgeist of the late sixties on whatever time period it
> was manifesting in.  And not the pleasant, touchy-feely stuff either,
> but instead the post-post Woodstock, helter-skelter nightmare.

Huh. Which is itself a certain slice-perspective of reality.

>     September First, Nineteen Seventy-Seven!

Also, I'm glad my story came just after that bit. <3 Also, this one required a 
lot of editing to get into the right length.

>     "Seems to me I read something once, one time, about a man what had
> such a brain. And they-- and I don't rightly know who they is, but
> they did it-- they put something like a thousand words in his brain. A
> thousand don't necessarily seem like a lot, but it was enough,
> apparently, to teach him ten thousand facts, which he could recall
> with perfect memory. Also could do sums quicker and better than most
> people. A marvel, or so it said in the article.
>     "A thousand words, and that's all they had room for, so they had to
> practice concision, which incidentally is not one of the words for
> which they had room. When there were two words, or three, or ten, what
> meant near the same thing, they used just one. Which is a shame,
> because the charm of English is that it allows for style and shades.

Ahhhhhhh, nice.

>     Three-Nine spoke. "I am both acquainted with and equipped for human
> fornication.

Fanfic time!

>     "Murder, kill, they mean near the same thing. But there's that
> nearness again, and this time it's not just a matter of poetry. I did
> indeed kill those men, but I did not murder them. They was attempting
> to hang this lovely, uh, man. If they had succeeded, they would not
> have killed him, but murdered him. Shades of meaning, Marshal. Near
> the same, but different. By killing, I did prevent a murder from
> taking place. Therefore, I did not commit murder."
>     Three-Nine looked at the noose around Hank's neck, and lowered his
> gun. "You did it to save another. That is sufficient and supported by
> evidence. You could have said that and only that, and it would have
> been sufficient."
>     "I suppose so," said Adams mournfully. "I suppose you call it a
> kestrel, too."

Oh, Adams. <3

> Green Knight and Acro-Bat created by Tom Russell, and used with
> enthusiastic permission!

Yaaaaaaaaay! <3

Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, trying to work on capturing different voices.

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