The Damned Lies Project

Wherein we discuss Evil Twin theory and my personal experiences.

It was during my time at college that my evil twin died.

Not everyone knows this, but everybody has an evil twin.  There may be some naysayers, but it is true.  Somewhere on this planet, there’s an evil twin for every person on the planet.  They may be on the other side of the globe, a thousand miles away, or just across town going to that bar you never go to.  Everyone has an evil twin somewhere.  Except me, because my evil twin died. Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein I talk about massive dorms, laundry etiquette, and Trent is introduced.

During college I lived in a prison.

The Jester Resident Hall was designed by a prison architect.  While this might initially provoke an amused laugh from new UT students, that laugh soon gives way to an introspective moment.  If you’ve ever been in Jester on any of the dorm floors, you slowly begin to realize that this might actually be true.  You remember the long hallways with cell-sized rooms which you could look down and just imagine pulling the switch that locks all the cell doors at once… Read the rest of this entry »

In 1942, in a small seaside town in occupied France, the Nazis plotted to form an alliance with the Deep Ones, an ancient race of aquatic beings who served dark gods.  With this alliance, the Nazis would push back the Allies in a war that had turned against them.  On the night when the alliance would be finally sealed, US guns shelled the entire site from the nearby mountain range, destroying the operation.  In the wreckage were found documents and confession of a would-be Nazi traitor.  Though the man died, his guilty explanation of the occult arm of the Nazi SS made it into the US’s intelligence organization, the OSS and their Delta Green offshoot.  The Nazi backup plan would be to find the lost city of Thule, and unleash something that would put all other doomsday weapons to shame.

Delta Green: Denied to the Enemy by Dennis Detwiller is a strange mix of themes and influences.  If you ever wanted to combine Lovecraftian horrors with WWII and Nazi occultism, you’ll find it here.  At the same time, it focuses particularly on the politics of US and British intelligence agencies that deal with the supernatural, bringing up similarities to novels like The Atrocity Archive or Declare. Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein I talk about Austin, UT, and registering for classes.

The Austin, Texas I lived in for college is not what you would think of today if someone were to mention Austin.

For those that know Austin, this was back before the recession, before the second tech boom, before the dot com bust, before the first tech boom, and before the zombie outbreak.  Captain Quackenbush’s café was still on the drag, Toy Joy was in a smaller location, Half Price books was still on bus routes, and Linklater’s Slacker was still somewhat relevant to the city.  UT’s football stadium was three renovations smaller, the science departments had far more accidental fires, and parking was even worse than now.  183 was not elevated and simple called “Anderson”, 290 wasn’t such a parking lot during rush hour, but there were still no good east west streets. Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein I talk about Becky and reminisce about college orientation.

It was when I had been in the hospital a month that Becky finally visited me.  She claimed that she had visited me right after the car accident, but I was concussed, so all I kept mumbling was something about Cocoa Puffs.  Once it stopped being hilarious she had left and just been busy.

I’ll admit that when she showed up, I flinched, expecting a punch.  Who would punch someone in hospital and in traction?  Becky, that’s who.  Throwing a punch is like some sort of social exchange for her.  If she were male, I would expect her to chest bump everyone as a greeting.  Since she is female and well-endowed, I can understand why she would find that awkward and how men would soon find that such awkwardness would lead to more punching.

She wasn’t always quite so violent, I recalled as she scrawled dirty words on my leg cast both where I couldn’t read them and couldn’t reach to scratch them out.  When I met her she was still a don’t-take-no-shit person, but she reserved her violence for those who truly deserved it.  It was until post zombie outbreak that she became more violent; but since she and I were at ground zero, so I understand that changes a person.

***

I first met Becky during orientation for college. Read the rest of this entry »

Astute readers may notice that the this website has not been updated in a month, and it has had new lies in even less time.

There are a few possible reasons for this:

1> I was kidnapped by beautiful space aliens who put me to work in their pleasure domes, providing relief for their amazonian warriors who then conquered the galaxy.  Through the help of one beautiful warrior who was willing to betray her race, I escaped and am now an intergalactic freebooter and pirate, using both blaster and technology-enhanced sword.  Also me and the girl who helped me have sex a lot.

2> Dark cultists finally succeeded in subduing me, which resulted in them removing my brain from my body.  That brain is now kept in a capsule for future travel to some alternate world where their diabolical masters sit, keening mad melodies on thrones made from the souls of countless lost souls.  I have not yet developed the ability to use telekinetic powers to login to my computer and update the site.

3> While exploring the basement of my parents old house, I found a piece of furniture that hurtled me across worlds into one mired in medieval technology where magic is real and cute woodland creatures talk.  I was given the choice to become their Hero, a savior who saved them from their dark foe or a conqueror who razed most of the forest to bring all under my thumb, establishing myself as King and tyrant.

Regardless of the reason, I hope to get back to semi-regular updates soon.  I plan to start Season 2 of the Lies, focusing on my college years in Austin, TX and Austin’s initial zombie outbreak.

I’m also toying with the site format, so you may see the site differently depending on when you show up.

Sincerely,

King Damned Lies, Oppressor of the Rabbits of Barrow Forest, Lord of Fire Wolves, Destroyer of the Bastion of Light, Slayer of Unicorns, Wielder of the Demonic Blade

Hiromi Goto’s novel Half World is a hard one for me to review.  I love the concept and the themes used in its world, but unfortunately I just could not get into the story itself.

The background of her story are three metaphysical realms: the Realm of the Flesh, where beings live their normal lives, Half World, the after-death realms where they relieve their greatest trauma to work out their issues, and the Spirit Realm where they end up after their traumas are understood and learned from.  Eventually the spirits return to the Realm of Flesh and it starts over.  But a great division happened and all the worlds became separate from each other.  Beings in the Realm of Flesh reincarnated there with their issues not resolved.  Spirits stayed in the Spirit World, distant and aloof.  And those in Half World stayed there, never dying, never moving on, just endlessly reliving their traumas.  For centuries this division has existed and only a prophecy of a child born in Half World to break the cycle. Read the rest of this entry »

We’re having a lazy Sunday, just hanging out and listening to music.  Since the day is breezy and nice, the glass door is open with the screen door closed, so that we can feel the nice breeze and my cat can sniff out at the myriad of strange smells.

Suddenly, we hear this awful grinding and sputtering.  My cat immediately freaks out.  As it grows louder I realize that this is the sound of somebody riding a motorcycle in the apartment complex.

But this is no normal motorcycle sound.  This is not the buzzing whine of a crotch rocket.  This is clearly some serious piece of machinery.  But it’s not even normal for that.  This is loud, far louder than the loudest harley I’ve heard.  This is clearly someone who has altered their bike for sound or who is doing particular things to be louder, which, in their apartment complex, is a rather dickish thing to do.

The bike’s sound roars through the complex, passing our building before receding into the distance.  My cat looks out the window, alert and looking for this great sound.  Finally as it passes, she looks at me, her ears up, her eyes wide, her head pulled back on her neck.  Clearly if she could speak, the phrase she’d be looking for would be: “WTF.”

I look back at her, completely understanding her shock and confusion.

I reply: “I also think that he must have a small penis.”

When you’re stuck in traction in a hospital ward, you end up watching a lot of television.  It doesn’t matter how many books, projects, or distractions you’ve had loved ones bring you.  Unless you’re loaded to the gills with sedatives, you end up watching daytime television.  This forced exploration of daytime television reawakened my love of one of the greatest shows of my youth:  The Price is Right.

I remember summers as a young kid where I planned out a television watching schedule for when it rained or I was feeling antisocial.  If I was up early enough, I could watch Robotech and Land of the Lost, though the former required me up extremely early.  The next reasonable show was the Price is Right at eleven.  If I stayed around, at one there was Bewitched.  And if I were really lucky and really lazy, I could tune in for Press Your Luck at three.

The Price is Right is the one I saw the most.  It was late enough for sleeping in during the summer but early enough I could go out and play like a normal kid after.  I think it was also the least inoffensive to my mom, so if she wanted to relax and watch television, the Price of Right worked out fine. Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein there are police, flowers, and a shock.

“You didn’t blow up the Circle Line,” said Bruce.

He had come to see me again in the hospital.  I had invited him to read over what I had written and this was his first response after he finished reading my dealings with my clones.

“That sort of thing is so hard to confirm,” I said. Read the rest of this entry »