The Damned Lies Project

Wherein I muse about America for a while.

Overjoyed as I was at being back in civilization, that still left me in an uncertain position.  I had been dropped somewhere along Route 66.  For those not familiar with the intimates of American geography, Route 66 is a very long road.  It stretches from California through the middle of America and then up to Chicago (though some biased readers may suggest that it begins in Chicago and ends in California instead).  I knew that I was on it, but I didn’t know where.  Before my sojourn through the wasteland, I had thought that I was in Texas or New Mexico.  But after that dream-like experience of dark worlds and walking houses, all bets were off on where I ended up.  I wouldn’t be surprised if I was in Oz.

Lost with only a backpack full of meager possessions is in some people’s minds a very romantic way to get to know a place.  Having been there, I disagree.  Sure, if this were Paris, Rome, London or New York City, I might agree.  But when you’re on a highway at night with darkness as far as the eye can see, you are not very endeared to the desolate expanse.  I was tired and hungry, weary of travelling and wanting a bed where I didn’t expect a crazy person to wake me up with cryptic words in the middle of the night. Read the rest of this entry »

We’re on Twitter now!  Find us under DamnedLiesProj.

Now you have more ways to find out when we update.

The more you know…

It’s that time again for me to answer all your questions!  Let’s see what the grab bag has today!

Q: Didn’t this website used to be funny?

A: Uh, yeah.  We’re getting back to that…

Q: If Jesus and Superman got into a fistfight, who would win? Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein things come to a head.

The next night couldn’t come soon enough, yet I almost wished it never came.  I wanted to put my plan into action, to get back at the old man, but I was also almost paralyzed with fear.  From all of Emily’s allusions and half-dropped inferences, the old man was dangerous.  I didn’t know how dangerous.  Worse, I worried that he’d somehow know before I made my move.  He always seemed to know everything; I needed to make sure he wouldn’t know this.  I tried to avoid showing it on my face, and put up a mask of irritability all through the day.  But with his dark eyes, I wondered every second in his presence whether those eyes were staring through me to the truth.

Somehow I made it to nighttime without him mentioning anything.  He called me outside while he began preparations to enter the Dark.  While he had a backpack of stuff he didn’t have on our previous jaunt into the Dark, otherwise the ritual to enter was the same.  I questioned him about the trip while he was still preparing.

“So we’re going into the Dark to…” I prompted, which just caused him to stare at me as he measured an amount of powder from a pouch using his palm. Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein I come to a revelation.

I went to bed after the house stopped moving.  It lowered itself in a stretch of wasteland that looked very much like the last place it was.  Had we really gone anywhere?  Was this place all the same?  How could the old man tell we’re in the right place?

When I woke up the sun was already going down.  Days seemed very short in this place and nights seemed endless.  I had no real way to time them, since there was not a single clock in the house.  I had lost my watch long ago.  The only other way to keep time was to count in my head, and I didn’t care that much.  This left the passage of time so subjective amongst the other weirdness going on.

“We go into the Dark again tomorrow night.” Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein a house moves.

After my trip to and from the Dark, the old man retreated to his study.  When he freed me from my imprisonment in my room, I was told that the second floor was off-limits as well as a first floor room behind a heavy door.  It is this room he entered and then closed the door.  I guessed it to be a study, but in truth I had no idea.  The door was always closed.

A few minutes later, that same singing began emanating from the room, filling the house.  I wasn’t sure the acoustics, but there was not a room in the house you could not hear it well.  I’m not sure if there was some resonance, but even the pots, pans, and metal strangeness hanging from the ceiling of each room seemed to resonate with that sound.  It was all a little too weird for me and it made my head feel funny.  I retreated to the deck.

There was one admonishment that the old man had said before secluding himself in that study.  He said not to leave the deck or the house.  That was fine with me when he said it.  There was nothing for miles around, and all that was left from our foray into the Dark was the smoldering embers of a fire pit.  But now with that weird vibration, I wanted to go for a walk and get away.  Instead, I stood on the deck, leaning on the railing and staring out into the wasteland.

I sensed her before I heard her, that latter probably impossible, since she moved with an amazing silence across the planks of the deck.  Emily came around the deck from the back side of the house.  At first I didn’t turn to face her.

“Climb out a window or something?” I asked, referencing the fact that there was only the single door to the house. Read the rest of this entry »

Wherein there is the Dark.

It was nighttime when we began.  The fire was burning, offering a wavering heat against the cold and windy night.  The old man sat cross-legged on the ground near the fire.  He had just finished grinding something with his mortar and pestle when he beckoned me over.

“Sit.  I need to paint your face so that the hound cannot see you.”

I reluctantly sat.  I hoped that he was painting my face with something cool, like the face paint from KISS.  Only not the Cat or the Star Child.  Those would be lame.    I’d want the Demon or Space Ace.  I wonder if he had one of those frilly rocker wigs. Read the rest of this entry »