Hello . . .
So, you have found your way here. I am probably working. Plodding away at one thing or another. Most likely completing all the necessary work of an Indie writer. Although I could be exercising. Or gardening, season allowing. Regardless, I'm likely out in the Treehouse or down in the Basement Lab. If you ring the doorbell, I may not immediately answer. Hang around the front porch and wait, if you want. Enjoy the autumn temperatures and colours. Don't let the strange noises frighten you.
Obligatory Gibberish
Simple & imperfect.
Writer. Fighter. Candlelighter.
Curious observer, honest analytic, and explorer of life who writes (often under pseudonyms) and who—inspired by the capacity to animate monsters in a basement laboratory—composes rock guitar instrumentals in a manner similar to that used by Dr. Frankenstein in the performance of his work.
Historically, since reaching the age of majority, a regular voter.
To reach me, please use the form provided.
Motto
I believe there's a subtle but important difference between pretending and make believe. I love being creative and engaging in make believe. I do not, however, pretend!
Quote* from a Rock-n-Roll Read short story
*or excerpt
And following in the footsteps of those who came before him, he too sought extreme freshness in his specimens . . .
from "Peace Frog" for October 2020, story inspired by title of song by The Doors and the weird fiction story HERBERT WEST—REANIMATOR by H.P. Lovecraft
Warning
Visitors, regarding the Front Porch and any pages of this website accessible to the public, do you possess a sense of humor? If not, flee (squealing, you swine). If you do, thrust it out in front of you—that shining lantern—and spot the serious within the silly as you continue your journey.
More Obligatory Gibberish
|
In youth, he enjoyed [action he never felt totally comfortable performing but did do hoping this girl would return his love in similar measure]. In college, he videotaped himself doing [the then latest and coolest attention-seeking gimmick pimped by a celebrity] until his attention—and personal information—was captured and auctioned off by [recently IPO'd Techco]. Nowadays he questions where he misplaced his identity and wonders if he used a shovel he bought at [BIG box store spending loads of ad $$ on brand awareness & loyalty] to bury his own decision-making capabilities, values and self-worth.
As an Indie writer he has to hold down and work at several different jobs, including the following: Founding Creative Director and Chief Fry Cook, DAEDALUS Hot Wings culinary kitchen concepts DAEDALUS Hot Wings culinary concepts kitchen is a creative agency specializing in collaborative design and advertising. Avian AV Engineer, Script veterinarian and Seed Investor / Founder, MOCKing BIRD PRODUCTIONS The title of this film production company should be self-evident. If it is not, please leave. There is a bowl of sugar-free candy on the étagère near the entrance. Feel free to take a few as you depart us. ( Do you believe them? They were an idiot. I mean... I once found and pocketed a chunk of Hadrian's Wall possessing greater intellect than that fucker. Bet they use social media. Tweet-tweet-tweet. I'm happy to see them go. I wish they'd just die! Don't you? ) Organ Grinder and Supervisory Sausage-handler and (surprise! surprise!) Founder, Oscar WILDE BORE Sausage, Ltd. Oscar WILDE BORE Sausage, Ltd is a global endeavour of complete and firm sausage love. We make it. We watch it be made. We create for everybody. But we cater to men who love sausage. To your grills. Time to get macho! Oscar WILDE BORE Sausage: No filler — All thriller* * Heh, just kidding. That last bit of phrasing is Huckster 101 (the kind of shit Trump might say) — lazy & tired AF. Managing Muffintop, DEEP SHIT DOCUMENTARIES DEEP SHIT DOCUMENTARIES assists in securing financing and distribution for short- and feature-length documentary films that are destined to place their creators in the crosshairs and in jeopardy with the Establishment, especially Center-Right and Center-Left Establishmentarians who believe they are germ-free gatekeepers of truth and of speech and behavioural purity as they wipe away—with ungloved hands and naked tongues—the filth and clean the backsides of corporations and career politicians. Nondescript Customer, INTERNATIONAL HOUSE OF PAINCAKES A semi-professional man of leisure wearing a fake moustache and writing squirrel-themed poetry while sipping robust coffee and nibbling croissant at a bistro table offering him a good view of the opposite street corner--into the glass front of MARCHÉ ANXIÉTÉ--where Very Online Personalities and famous Media & Entertainment persons shop for groceries, the anxieties they stoke in the broader population. [ REDACTED ], CLAWFOOT PHARMA CLAWFOOT PHARMA is located in an abandoned house and manufactures various hallucinogens. The house, Victorian-era. And spooky. The washtub used to cook up the stuff, antique. (And soo heavy. Fuck me, you can't even believe.) CLAWFOOT PHARMA is NOT a front generating cashflow to fund black ops projects. Trust us. Hubbard Gandleswink, CONSULTING MATHEMATICIAN Specialist in the development of super-sophisticated formulas used in the development of black ops budget proposals. Case Study: Seek a reasonable sum of money, say $1MM, to fund a generic research project that won't be pursued. Stonewall on reporting to oversight committees on bogus research project used to secure funds for at least one election cycle. Use the money to buy chemicals and equipment and an old abandoned house and establish a cash-generating business that will fund ongoing operations meeting strategic and tactical objective(s) of your off-book department or agency. Note: Hubbard Gandleswink suffers from chronic back and neck pain as a result of his having to repeatedly look over his shoulder. High School students considering a career as a Consulting Mathematician should realize the profession has a high turnover rate whose former participants are unable to provide career guidance and firsthand accounts of their experiences as they are disappeared. (Psst! #LearnToCode) Washboardist* and lyricist, THE CATERPILLAR & ASHMEDAI JUG Band Dedicated to discretion and specializing in private, intimate events—like the coupling sessions where Simon does your mom. THE CATERPILLAR & ASHMEDAI JUG Band is a (bed) chamber ensemble using spoons, washboard and jug to instrumentalize and score your (coital) performance. Call today. When you book your performance, ask about this month's special on One Night Stands: "Don't Cry for Me Argentina." * Asthma prevents him from mastering the jug Anyhoo... He has a number of interests and pastimes too. For example, kayaking. Or what he calls a good paddle. If he enjoyed a different kind of paddle—and under the right circumstances he might—his safe word for consensual amorous spankings would be expialidocious. (Commit that to memory, please.) He finds sailing exhilarating, although he has yet to master the art and science of wind + water. He also cannot call himself—or anyone else, for that matter—a seaman while keeping a straight face. He once had a childhood crush on a friend's mom* and believes that wasn't entirely atypical. At least not for that time period. This is the 21st century and people are no longer supposed to talk about such things. Such topics... oh! they're verboten. So, forget you read that last bit. And don't say anything. Okay? * Forwarding a private message to school-friend's mom: Over the decades, you've remained kind. That's no insignificant feat in this world. And you're still smoking hot—that's just cosmological truth that is. To get his attention, feel free to SMS him $1MM or, less expensively, use the contact form provided. |
Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. No, I'm really listening to you spaz on again. I'm taking it all in. Absorbing it. Promise. #tycmasiuya
|
Questions and Answers
Why Have You Shared Rough Drafts?
Because the starting point is important, and nothing to be ashamed about. Also, for all its talk about embracing and accepting it, Western culture punishes—and hides from—failure, the unpolished, uncouth and unrefined. The entrepreneur who "made it" is placed on a pedestal and is not only stroked, but stroked mighty hard. The business owner who lost everything and became homeless is mostly ignored, often mocked. I'm straight up challenging the lies and bullshit. My culture markets aspiration — "success" and "achievement" — harder than a fucking street corner dealer pushes heroin. Tastemakers can entirely fuck off.
What's your favorite James Bond scene?
Oh! That's an easy one. It hasn't been filmed yet. Oscar Wilde plays the part of James Bond. I play the role of Auric Goldfinger. Oscar has just left the shower. He walks to the writing desk—where I am trying to work—and quite rudely grabs the pen from my hand. I look him in the eye and say: "No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to give me the pen and, for a change, you hold my nutsack while ** Iiii ** write." It's sort of a weird, genre-crossover, double-dip fanfic thing I've been working on. Thanks for asking. Bet you're glad ya did.
What's your elevator pitch that describes you?
No pitch. A pitch implies branding. And the question reeks of personal branding. If you want to discuss personal branding tune-in and watch a particularly crappy "reality" TV show pushing conformance Capitalism, and the accompanying myth-building horseshit, airing on network television. For now, I'll share with you a phrase describing me with a certain accuracy: A silhouette reminiscent of SHAW's unreasonable man admiring TWAIN's acerbic wit.
Why Do You Occasionally Spell Words Differently?
Short answer: I am playing and having fun.
Long answer: My grandparents wrote and spoke their English words differently than we do in the States. That fact made an impression on me. Also, have you ever heard William F. Buckley Jr. speak? I once read or heard his voice described as pan-Atlantic. I grooved on that. It made a kind of sense to me, given the peculiar sounds and spellings extant in my own house (family) when I was a boy. Anyway, I decided I'd create my own little mashup and merge aspects of language from both sides of the pond. You know, I am playing and having fun.
Can You Provide Guidance or Assistance With Writing Query or Submission Letters?
No, aspiring writers focused on traditional publishing, I can't! Why? Because I have zero experience with such things. I've never pursued traditional publishing. So, I've never written a query letter. Not once. And I'm not ashamed of that, although some so-called "pros" in the leech-filled Land of Letters believe I'm somehow less than—and not serious about the craft—because of it.
Didn't You Once Describe Yourself as a Recovering Accountant?
Yes, I did. However, I have fallen off the wagon and am using (capitalism) again. Now let me ask YOU some things: Do you assume I'll hide the delivery mechanisms feeding the junk into my bloodstream—the straws and needles? Believe I'll be a bathroom-stall-hideaway-closet-user like the elite members of the Center-Left Establishment, the privileged members of Media, Technology & Entertainment masquerading their greed and hunger for power? You think I'll engage in similar subterfuge?
What's Best In Life?
I don't know. Go ask Conan the Barbarian. And if you see that brutish fuck, tell him he ruined my petunias his last visit.
What's Your Proudest Moment?
It's not a moment --and certainly not something I am, like, "proud" of-- but I totally fucking dig the fact I've performed at least two jobs Alan Moore has.
What's the Best Way to Prepare Liver and Onions?
Don't.
Assuming it was the end of the world and mutually agreed upon by both parties and, therefore, a consensual act, would you engage in coitus with a certain famous author that gets under your skin and irritates you to no end and who also likely borrowed both storyline and protagonist elements from other authors and strategically overlooked and did not mention these influences during their rise to fame?
Honey? Is that you? It's you... isn't it? I mean this seems to be a pretty fucking specific question and fact pattern hinting at insider status afforded only to someone who is both intimately familiar with me and who was present when I may have answered a TRUTH OR DARE / WHAT IF? question during a game night session with family and friends during a Kansas winter holiday or while at a summer camp home in Maine. It's you, honey... right? Yeah? No? Hmm... Okay... then it's some lowly junior-level NSA analyst who drew short and pulled a weekend work shift to tap cellphone mics and was unlucky enough to unlawfully tap mine. What's your name, kid? You're a G&T Language grad, I bet. Am I right? Look here. I am sure you're swell and all but the role your playing is shit. Nothing patriotic about it. The job is a burning ember lit by a mage flame of paranoia and hegemony. I encourage you to consider other avenues of employment. It's the time of the plague. And kids, at least the kids here in my state, are going to have an extended summer. They need fun distractions. Something to reduce the stress. They need ice cream. Consider NOT spying for slack-jaw career politicians and their more furtive shadow government counterparts. Consider peddling ice cream. Cold. Refreshing. Tasty. Ice cream. Folks need cheering up. It's the time of the plague. And your job is shit, in case I wasn't clear earlier.
Social Media Presence?
SIXSTRINGcpa social media activity is spotty. Bursts. And then silence. Depending on what is happening in the world and if I am seeking inspiration or doing research for some project, writing or consulting. Otherwise, my social media activity is performed outside of this SIXSTRINGcpa alt. I post about once a week—on average, across a twelve month period—on behalf of a podcast hosted by my wife. That's the only consistent social media activity I engage in, and, as you can see, it's infrequent.
Because the starting point is important, and nothing to be ashamed about. Also, for all its talk about embracing and accepting it, Western culture punishes—and hides from—failure, the unpolished, uncouth and unrefined. The entrepreneur who "made it" is placed on a pedestal and is not only stroked, but stroked mighty hard. The business owner who lost everything and became homeless is mostly ignored, often mocked. I'm straight up challenging the lies and bullshit. My culture markets aspiration — "success" and "achievement" — harder than a fucking street corner dealer pushes heroin. Tastemakers can entirely fuck off.
What's your favorite James Bond scene?
Oh! That's an easy one. It hasn't been filmed yet. Oscar Wilde plays the part of James Bond. I play the role of Auric Goldfinger. Oscar has just left the shower. He walks to the writing desk—where I am trying to work—and quite rudely grabs the pen from my hand. I look him in the eye and say: "No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to give me the pen and, for a change, you hold my nutsack while ** Iiii ** write." It's sort of a weird, genre-crossover, double-dip fanfic thing I've been working on. Thanks for asking. Bet you're glad ya did.
What's your elevator pitch that describes you?
No pitch. A pitch implies branding. And the question reeks of personal branding. If you want to discuss personal branding tune-in and watch a particularly crappy "reality" TV show pushing conformance Capitalism, and the accompanying myth-building horseshit, airing on network television. For now, I'll share with you a phrase describing me with a certain accuracy: A silhouette reminiscent of SHAW's unreasonable man admiring TWAIN's acerbic wit.
Why Do You Occasionally Spell Words Differently?
Short answer: I am playing and having fun.
Long answer: My grandparents wrote and spoke their English words differently than we do in the States. That fact made an impression on me. Also, have you ever heard William F. Buckley Jr. speak? I once read or heard his voice described as pan-Atlantic. I grooved on that. It made a kind of sense to me, given the peculiar sounds and spellings extant in my own house (family) when I was a boy. Anyway, I decided I'd create my own little mashup and merge aspects of language from both sides of the pond. You know, I am playing and having fun.
Can You Provide Guidance or Assistance With Writing Query or Submission Letters?
No, aspiring writers focused on traditional publishing, I can't! Why? Because I have zero experience with such things. I've never pursued traditional publishing. So, I've never written a query letter. Not once. And I'm not ashamed of that, although some so-called "pros" in the leech-filled Land of Letters believe I'm somehow less than—and not serious about the craft—because of it.
Didn't You Once Describe Yourself as a Recovering Accountant?
Yes, I did. However, I have fallen off the wagon and am using (capitalism) again. Now let me ask YOU some things: Do you assume I'll hide the delivery mechanisms feeding the junk into my bloodstream—the straws and needles? Believe I'll be a bathroom-stall-hideaway-closet-user like the elite members of the Center-Left Establishment, the privileged members of Media, Technology & Entertainment masquerading their greed and hunger for power? You think I'll engage in similar subterfuge?
What's Best In Life?
I don't know. Go ask Conan the Barbarian. And if you see that brutish fuck, tell him he ruined my petunias his last visit.
What's Your Proudest Moment?
It's not a moment --and certainly not something I am, like, "proud" of-- but I totally fucking dig the fact I've performed at least two jobs Alan Moore has.
What's the Best Way to Prepare Liver and Onions?
Don't.
Assuming it was the end of the world and mutually agreed upon by both parties and, therefore, a consensual act, would you engage in coitus with a certain famous author that gets under your skin and irritates you to no end and who also likely borrowed both storyline and protagonist elements from other authors and strategically overlooked and did not mention these influences during their rise to fame?
Honey? Is that you? It's you... isn't it? I mean this seems to be a pretty fucking specific question and fact pattern hinting at insider status afforded only to someone who is both intimately familiar with me and who was present when I may have answered a TRUTH OR DARE / WHAT IF? question during a game night session with family and friends during a Kansas winter holiday or while at a summer camp home in Maine. It's you, honey... right? Yeah? No? Hmm... Okay... then it's some lowly junior-level NSA analyst who drew short and pulled a weekend work shift to tap cellphone mics and was unlucky enough to unlawfully tap mine. What's your name, kid? You're a G&T Language grad, I bet. Am I right? Look here. I am sure you're swell and all but the role your playing is shit. Nothing patriotic about it. The job is a burning ember lit by a mage flame of paranoia and hegemony. I encourage you to consider other avenues of employment. It's the time of the plague. And kids, at least the kids here in my state, are going to have an extended summer. They need fun distractions. Something to reduce the stress. They need ice cream. Consider NOT spying for slack-jaw career politicians and their more furtive shadow government counterparts. Consider peddling ice cream. Cold. Refreshing. Tasty. Ice cream. Folks need cheering up. It's the time of the plague. And your job is shit, in case I wasn't clear earlier.
Social Media Presence?
SIXSTRINGcpa social media activity is spotty. Bursts. And then silence. Depending on what is happening in the world and if I am seeking inspiration or doing research for some project, writing or consulting. Otherwise, my social media activity is performed outside of this SIXSTRINGcpa alt. I post about once a week—on average, across a twelve month period—on behalf of a podcast hosted by my wife. That's the only consistent social media activity I engage in, and, as you can see, it's infrequent.
