Original Writing by Robert Leigh Angus

CREATIVE TRANSLATION (RLA) The old wizard has finally left me alone,  His spirit servants will now fulfill my commands! I have studied his words, his symbols, and his gestures!  I can perform the same miracles with my own genius! Broom! You have always been my slave! I know things that do things! I command you to do my bidding!  Use your own mind! Use your own legs! Do fingers!  Go and fill the water pots! Go to the river! Wash stuff! Quickly now! Clean the floor! Once! And again! Then once more! And once again, and ... damn, me, I have forgotten how to turn you off?! How do I get you to stop? Stop? STOP! STAWP!!! PLEASE??? (no more wash???) The place is scrubbed with maelstroms and cyclones and hurricanes!!! The place is a hellish flood, I am drowning! (IS THAT A SHARK???) This cursed broom! It has no ears to hear me! Stand STILL! Where is my axe? I would split you into KINDLING! STAWP! AW! FAWK! EACH SPLINTER BECOMES ANOTHER MOP!!! Woe is me! Such powerful hoodooge...

(Just a clippet from something I'm playing with. No cryptic meaning, Mama. It's fiction.) "Am I allowed to say thank you, it's a dream come true? No? Well, thanks. Dreams rarely rate reality, but I am still happy for the moment. Then again, it's a far cry from what I actually want. But I'll take it. Life has a way of fucking around with your head. Your head has a fucky way of messing around with your heart. Your heart has a bad habit of reminding your soul that your wants are best served as karmic debt. Until next time, Shakyamuni. I'm not going to be enlightened any time soon." 

"I know myself well enough to know that I am not a nice man, a good man, nor a kind man. I know that I am weak and incapable of doing what is right and reasonable and decent. I want you to know that I love you, and want only for you to know that I believe in you, because I hope that you are better than I know that I am. That is all that I know, because I know that I am not equal to the ideals that I hold dear. I will fail in all of the things that I believe to be great and honest and true. I am sorry. Please forgive me. I know that I should be better, and if challenged, I plan to be so. But like all men of failed virtue, I forgive my failure, and pick my teeth with the bones of your tiny toes, my dear, beloved child, and beg that God will bless you and forgive me for the horror that I have cursed your last hours with by sacrificing you upon this rock."  -- Abraham's Prayer, by Robert L. Angus. 

  "The book market as we have known it over the past century, and the centuries leading up to it, is no longer relevant. We are in a state of transition, as a result of many influences unique to our current technological and economic model. But, under scrutiny, the wise publisher will see parallels between what is happening now, and what has happened already, and if that publisher is willing to pivot and change their approach, taking notes from the challenges our predecessors have faced, then we can take a step back, adjust our goals, and reapproach the market with our original intentions intact, but also directed to a more exclusive audience. These people may be more highly educated, though in my experience, not -- they may have more money, though again, in my experience, lack sophistication, -- they may have more specialized interests, though again, in my experience, lack authority -- and they may have a collector's instinct, though, as has proven time and time again, litt...

  SWORN-DOG-ON-A-THRONE  A Dull Knife Story His eyes were the strongest of his fellows, and he was once fast on foot, quiet when he needed to be, and did not hesitate to draw a knife and put it into another man’s back if the opportunity required it. Sworn Dog was once a passionate fighter, but to live another day, he would not hesitate to blind an opponent with a fist full of sand and cut at his wrists and ankles. Some would say that it was not fair, but he was not in this to look like a dancer at a festival, he was in this to survive and thrive. That is how be became the Sworn-Dog-On-A-Throne. None had defeated him since he climbed the high seat at council, and none dared try in over ten long years. He had no honour, and he had no mercy. But he held a throne, and that is all that mattered.     Sworn Dog was once given a wise man’s secret in trade for a favoured rifle when he was a young man. That secret stayed with him for these many decades, and it had neve...

  DEATH AMONG FRIENDS By Moses Levi First published in Devil’s Advocate Magazine, July 1996 “It was a masterstroke only made possible by a certain kind of genius. His was a mind of uncommon integrity, rarely found in organized criminality.” [1] …………………………. This is an eulogy for my dear friend, Douglas Hartford, who was more of a “man” than those “men” who presume otherwise. May he rest in peace. It was obvious by his presentation and affectation that he was a gay man, but he was my partner, my best friend. We had no resentments between each other. He was a lovely person. He was my brother. I loved him. That was all anyone ever asks for. His queerness was not hidden. It was linear. It was analog. It was the singular detail that you did not need to know in order to respect or appreciate him. I understand that. If you are a hetero person with religious inclinations which demand that you hide such substance from your own human experience, you are what you are – but that...

Michael’s first day at the desk was not his first in the hotel. In fact, he’d begun his time as a young veteran fresh off of the boat, having served in the Royal Air Force   during the last two years of war, and a few short months following. He was no airman; his   vision being far too gone to sight in a gun or handle an aircraft. He wore thick glasses of the sort which allowed him to view the world through a narrow fish eyed lens, and only as far out as a few yards. He served as a mechanic, and all-around hard-working grease monkey. He was strong, tall, and well spoken, and could handle himself in a rough situation, but was unfit for military duty. He was comfortable doing his duty for his country, and when he was finally freed of service, took the first ship he could board to America. He heard the new world calling and was eager to find his place in it. Soon after his arrival, he’d begun seeking employment as a mechanic. The new world was certainly in a state of post-war c...