You called happy endings, “The great lie of early childhood literature.”
Saturday, 19 December 2009
And asking readers to acquiesce and even enjoy unhappy endings is the great deceit of post-modernism and naturalism.






I live my life in ruins for you. And for all your secrets kept. I squashed the blossom and the blossom’s dead.
Saturday, 19 December 2009
And asking readers to acquiesce and even enjoy unhappy endings is the great deceit of post-modernism and naturalism.
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I have been checking back around Christmas for like a decade.
[Sed · :P It’s a Perl joke. They said the new major version release would be Christmas. When Christmas came and went, they said, We never said which Christmas.]
[I have some interesting ideas and have done a fair amount of work on and off toward them, but… here we are in 2021 and my desire to reach out to the world on the wane.]
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A Stork of a very simple and trusting nature had been asked by a gay party of Cranes to visit a field that had been newly planted. But the party ended dismally with all the birds entangled in the meshes of the Farmer’s net.
The Stork begged the Farmer to spare him.
“Please let me go,” he pleaded. “I belong to the Stork family who you know are honest and birds of good character. Besides, I did not know the Cranes were going to steal.”
“You may be a very good bird,” answered the Farmer, “but I caught you with the thieving Cranes and you will have to share the same punishment with them.”
Take that, subspace.