Brennen's the name, straight-shootin' adaptation is the game. I'm a shadowy figure on the edges of your story line. How do I effect the outcome? Am I the cavalier who holds all the answers inside his canvas duster, right next to his revolver and whip? Or am I the proverbial wild card who creates a third outcome and saves the day through happenstance and vagary. Are they the same role? I'm a man of many formulas. X + I = rebellion. Blue + White = Chivalry. Feed me a concept and I'll spin you a story. I'm moving into a new place, it's somewhere between the Iron Age and the advent of faster than light travel. I'll always take the fourth box, Mr. Showhost, the greatest prize is in that which you never knew was possible. I've got the solution to indignity somewhere in the walls and panels of this grey-red little central nervous system of mine, if only I could draw it, say it, or write it. If there were a chord for science fiction, I would strum it until my hands cracked and it all became science fact. I'm afraid of helplessness, I'm afraid of fists with no power, of guns with no bullets, of keeps without walls. I'm on a quest to find out where change comes from. Hint: not my pockets. Something has to get the ball rolling, and I think my ball is more dense than yours. I've been drawn on three times. Once for solidarity. Once for logic. Once for Memory. To me the concepta of the apocalypse, the ragnarok, and the fimbulwinter, are synonymous with catharsis. When the towers topple and the roads split, I'll be walking through the Northwest with a warm jacket, a homespun scarf, and a trusty machete, ready to start anew. That might make me lazy, but I feel you can't fix every problem if they keep compounding. You can't get a break if the tickets keep rolling in. You can't get home if the car keeps blowing hoses. You can't row to safety if the boat keeps springing leaks. Purge. Cleanse. Bleach. Break the ticket feeder. Walk. Use your arms. Rebuild. Rejuvenate. Start over. Give everyone a refund and go home for the night. Build your own method of transportation. Tame a whale. It's all about starting anew from a different angle. I see the nuances. I listen for rumors of treasure and energy. I watch, I watch, I act. No one knows black until they've gone blind. In a two sided argument, both sides are wrong. I walk fences like roads and kick both neighbors in the throat. War: it Is. Violence: it will Always Be. Peace: is always the instigator of war and violence. We're always looking for resolutions. Philosophers are too preachy, and died out before our time. If you're a philosopher, You aren't. If you know what you want, you're a genius. Life is all about getting what you want, if you disagree with that, it's because you want to disagree with that. Point in Case: We all want to live, except those who want to die, there is no person who wants to do neither, and if there is, he wants it. If something is interfering with your ruthless path to your desire, remove or circumvent this obstacel. Keep in mind, obstacles fight back, and force of will resolves any conflict of agenda. Stay off the roads between 4:30 and 6:00 pm. Tell everyone that. I have road rage, and it is boundless. If I could I would graft a set of steam powered wings to shoulder blades. I would modify my mind with computers and circuits. I would replace my organs with something more efficient. My Grandpa always tells me, 'There's too much that can go wrong with people, too many parts that can break." Alleviate that stipulation and you have fiction. In the end, I guess I'm just striving to be immortalized in ink. If you don't think I'm a pompouse ass, talk to me.
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