Worlds of WillyDJ

 Fascists don't get things done. A disturbing trend I see in popular culture is this weird notion of Democracy equals weak and Autocracies, particularly Fascist ones, are strong. This is quite a worrying thing for a member of a free society because I happen to like all these weak, pathetic freedoms. The ability to say what I want, believe what I want, love who I want all the while having some power to decide who calls the shots is dear to me. Also, autocracies commit all sorts of blunders because no one is able to tell them differently due to being in a grave or gulag. The rejection of Einstien's understanding of the atom being 'Jewish science' on the part of the Nazis and the Soviet's embracing of Lamarck over Darwin because it matched their ideology better is well known. So why is this less of a feature in our fictional societies? Ofttimes they stride the world like the colossi the propaganda of their real-world counterparts depicted them as doing. We see nothing ...

 Old weird stuff  I've been writing bits and bobs since ever. Here's an earlier thing. The working title was The Valley Girl. It was a pleasant evening. The air was warm and birds twittered and chirped at one another as Andrew waited for the bus. Checking his watch he noted it was another twenty minutes before it was due. So he decided to walk home. Had he known what was to transpire he would have wisely chosen to damn well wait like a good patient commuter. Andrew was not feeling patient and didn't like the bus trip home. He felt the driver contrived to hit every bump and pothole. He also liked walking and was in no hurry to get home.   Andrew walked to the corner store and bought a coke. He then began my walk home, reading his book and drinking the coke. He decided he would cross the common, walk down the road, cut through St Andrews and stop off at The Exminster for dinner before getting home for bed. A f...

  Killed him! It took a while, but I finally killed that damn bureaucrat. He's been awaiting death since March. Of course, a little thing happened then and my mind was on other matters. Still, he was hard to kill and that was a minor character! Eventually, I'm going to have to kill off a major character. Hopefully, it doesn't take as long.  What made killing him off had was that this is where Glynn, our main point of view protagonist actually commits to the revolution. Oh, sure humanity's overlords are callous colonialist types and representatives of The Man. Sure, the entire system is rotten and rigged. Sure, everything at the moment has The Third Servile War as an inspirational springboard and the hero has 'to get on with it' but the hero has to choose to do so.  Up till now, Glynn has just been reacting, trying to make the best of a situation spiralling out of his control. This is where he steps past that and has to make the break from the known and proceed i...

Argh! Argh! Argh!  What a dreadful day. Just horrifically dreadful in the way toiling as a cog in the machine can be. On the plus side, it made writing this scene far easier. Maybe as an exorcism of today's demons, inspiration to never fly a desk again or maybe I too really wanted to do this. The excerpt is from my space opera story. The working title is Once and Future Queen. Our protagonist has been called to task by an officious bureaucrat. Spoilers, don't get attached to the bureaucrat... ----- “Come in, come in,” said Ghalem as Glynn entered the Administrator’s office. He noticed the large chair in the centre of the room. It looked quite comfortable. “Please sit.” continued Ghalem and waved towards the chair. Obediently Glynn sat. That was what a loyal subject of the Ascendancy would do and what were humans if not loyal subjects? “A rather interesting request here Senco. Rather interesting indeed,” said Ghalem. Glynn tensed. What had this official noticed? What had given t...

Scary things I was going to post this later, then I realised it's Halloween and since I am working on a tale of Vampires and Zombies I should include the big scare that happens next. There was more crashing downstairs. It occurred to me that concepts such as 'paper' and 'clean' may not be understandable to Jeremy in his current state. Still, he was not dripping on my bedroom carpet. It then occurred to me that he would be dripping on the hall carpet, the stairs, the foyer and most probably every other room. It was going to take him ages to clean it up. But who was going to do that? Jeremy had inconsiderately become a zombie and I certainly wasn't going to do the cleaning. What was going to happen? I began to panic.   Much literature has been spent on how vampires are cool, calm, collected and sexy. I like books about vampires. The authors paint us so well and recently the vampire tends not to get destroyed by the real hero any more. Sometimes they are even the h...

It's all a little crazy. Here we are at the start of a new story. It's probably going to be termed Urban Fantasy, seeing how it has Vampires, Zombies and is taking place in the modern era. You probably have read stories like this and here's another. So, why read this one? Asides from making me happy and becoming able to say bye-bye to my day job? For the differences, for those things within that, for want of a better word, are a little crazy. The first is our POV character. Big things are afoot, it wouldn't be a story otherwise. The entire universe is poised to come crashing through our poor, unsuspecting protagonist's life, carry them off to lands made polymorphic and bizarre and turn a very ordinary unlife into an extraordinary one. He however first wants to read the newspaper. Probably a physical dead tree version. That's a little, off. It's the first twinge of dissonance telling you that we're off to parts unknown. He's also in Kumeu. Where th...

Huzzah! Off on a new journey. This one is being a writer. So to start let's kick-off with the intro to a world not so different from our own. Vampire Lord of Kumeu   I should have known something was wrong when I awoke. Normally Jeremy is there with the newspaper and an amusing anecdote. He'll mention something odd that happened in the world at large, recount some man bites dog story that the Herald would never cover or announce that today was Nikolai Tesla's birthday. This evening however there was no amusing witticism, no paper. No Jeremy.   It was a break in my routine. Routine is important to me. Without routines, I would be hopelessly adrift in my mind. I wouldn't know whether it was bum or breakfast time. Not that I eat breakfast or use a toilet of course. In fact, I don't think I've ever used a toilet in the sense that you understand them. I don't think it's severely inconvenienced me, just one of those little things that Jeremy should be telling ...