Leviathen

Mr. Molasses stepped out onto the stage. He was standing alone at the very altar Baron Frankenstein had used to create his huge but hideous and nameless monster. Mr. Molasses, who had his own monster and who thought it compared pretty well to the Boris Karloff version, looked lovingly over at his at the manikin

The New Nostradamus

Mrs. Molasses tasted the apple and it was good. Sweetness tasted the apple nd it was sweet. Mother and daughter agreed; honeydew was a far better apple than the pomegranates they were touting at Fisher’s Fresh Fruit. They were too seedy. Mrs. Molasses bought all her vegetables in the Garden of Arden. They had two

DEERSTALKER, THE MOVIE

If you would like to read this narrative from the beginning, go to Mr. and Mrs. Molassasses   A pale blue envelope with green ink addressed to Mr. Shylock Holmes—Shylock—was in with the ordinary fan-mail. Benedict Cumberbatch fished it out, and held it up to the light. He was feeling more and more like Sherlock

Two Sobriquets

[This story is growling a nd changing in alarming ways. I recommend reading it in the order it was written. Scroll down to there post called Mr., Molasses and Mrs., Molasse and read uo post by post.] Okay, let’s sort this one out. The Two Sobriquets is going to be my working title; a sobriquet

The Little Ones

I have been thinking of unearthing some of my old prose pieces that I wrote when Extrasimile was a mere babe in my arms. Though some of the material is dated, most is not. Or it is dated in a good way: it will help by providing a perspective on our current situation. Much of

Asylum

At its beginning, every life goes through a phase in which a mild two-person illusion defines the world. —Peter Sloterdijk              You don’t see watermelons with seeds so much anymore. But of course, once upon a time, we thought that was how watermelons were reproduced. We even thought, the more seeds the sweeter the juice. My