April 8, 2016
If I Could
Bruno. Before he went back to Italy, to warn him not to go. To warn him of Mocenigo. Or, alternatively, in 1600 before they burned him, to tell him that a full four hundred years later, people would be reading his books, and there'd be a statue honouring him right where he was about to get burned. To tell the Nolan that his life's work had not been in vain. That he would be loved, and more importantly perhaps, understood.
Aug 23, 2023
Ye Children of Akhenaten
Congratulivings, ye Childer of Akenhatunwake! Methinks, somewinklings among yee fancy as Muslimans, Chrishtians, Judeites, or whosoevers, but beknowst to me deep drown heart, ye've the mark of…
Jun 18, 2021
On The Folly of Souls
If you believe you have a soul, you’re probably not going to like this, but hey, I’m not here to make you happy. It’s hard to think of a single fiction, other than that of monotheism, that has been…
Jun 15, 2021
Don't Art for free
I really want to address the phenomenon of people asking artists to work for free on commercial projects. You have to understand that not all artists can afford to work for free, and whereas it may…