General Humor

Ice. Death. Winter.

If autumn is my favorite season, with its luminescent leaves, portly pumpkins, and abundant acorns, it is tainted by the knowledge that winter is coming next.  Try as I might, I can never quite forgive autumn for failing to transform magically into spring as soon as it realizes its days are numbered.

In autumn, the sun is crystal clear, clean, adding a bright glow to everything it touches.  In winter, the sun is grey.  Not “g-r-a-y,” the predominant American spelling, but a full-fledged Wuthering Heights-quality GREY.  “Wuthering” is a fine word for winter, by the way… go look it up.

I hate the grey sun. (more…)

Great-great-granddad

My great-great-grandfather, by all accounts, didn’t put much stock in photographs.  Too new, too strange.  It was almost indecent, making pictures of people like that.  He’d heard that kings and princes and such had painters to come and make pictures of them, but that was painting, that was different.  It took a while… several days, by his reckoning… and, well, that was for kings.  Like wearing those bright-colored tights — fine for fine folk, but not for him.  These photographs, somehow, were worse.  Too quick.  They didn’t take so long to make, and so people were going around wasting them on regular folks.  That just couldn’t be right, could it?

He didn’t hold with fairs and festivals and the like, either.  Too much like carnival.  Oh, yes, he’d heard stories about carnival.  A visiting preacher had spoken one Sunday morning about the immoral ways of the old country and how every year they had revelry so scandalous that it took forty days to atone for it afterward. (more…)

November 4, 2008. Election Day, USA.

If the candidate of your choice doesn’t win, feel free to blame the voting-machine goblins… they are obviously biased toward the other candidate.

Alternatively, you could read Writer Dad’s brilliant election poem, in which he likens America to the Roman Empire… distracted by bread and circuses while the Empire’s leadership rots from within. (more…)

I… am a goblinist.  There, I said it.  I believe in goblinism.  *whew*  That’s a tough admission to make for someone who claims to be pretty tech-savvy.

So…

What is goblinism?

Goblins. Seriously.

Goblinism is the truth at which a clear-minded individual may arrive once he has moved beyond the deceit and the conceit, the pretense and the pretender.

Simply put, once one has accepted that all those little bits of wire, green boards with copper inlay, and mysterious cylinders and rectangles of some not-quite-plastic, not-quite-metallic material are mere illusions to deceive the unwary, one’s vision is unclouded to reveal:

Goblins.

I’m going to ask again: What is goblinism?

(more…)

The Mouth of Truth has left the building...

Welcome to Shreds of Truth.  You, yes, you  have the pleasure of reading my very first post on this blog.  Awesome feeling, isn’t it?  Awesome in the sense of “filled with awe,” right?  …Perhaps not.  Pity.

Here at Shreds of Truth, I will be publishing simple stories, valuable vignettes, entertaining essays, and amazingly alliterative articles from time to time.  Best of all, each post will contain no more than a certain minimal amount of truth… and I will pass the savings on to you!

Yes!  That means each post here, on this mind-boggling collection of illusory insights, will be completely 100% free!  You pay nothing up front, no monthly fees, no hidden costs, and no sales tax!

But seriously… Why?!

 I wanted to have a blog, mainly to stretch my fledgling writer’s wings.  I just wasn’t sure what I wanted to blog about.  Obviously, the next step was to choose a topic.

Hmm. (more…)