Guest
I've decided to inject some creative talent into dying arm of this blog using the clean syringe of inspiration. Our first guest speaker is none other than the esteemed and famous writer, author of such under-rated classics as "Anime Love 9" - Angus Wellington. You can see a picture of him below - note, it's black and white because he refuses to "use any of that modern colour crap".
Via a series of complex puppet shows I've managed to persuade him to share with us the first paragraphs from some of his upcoming novels, sure to become classics in our time. However, he insisted I issue a disclaimer. At least, I think that's what he meant, he kept pausing every few seconds to lick paint off a stick. Nevertheless, it apparently goes something like this :
Warning : These stories are not for the weak of heart, or those soon having a transplant. Or those offering organs for transplant because it might destroy said organs.
With that out of the way, we can bask in his literary genius! Beneath each entry is a note from the author himself!
"Destiny"
Between an intersection of two motorways, beneath a pavement, in a place not touched by civilization since the dawn of time sat a small patch of lichen, alone in the darkness. Nobody cared for it; it had no healthcare and no benefit plan. But this is what our story revolves around – the challenges of the little people who don't have a hope. Like a rock left untouched by the waves of time from the sea of eternity, the lichen didn't have any of the social training we normally have. But nevertheless, as you will soon read, the life of a lichen can be fascinating and philosophical too.
Author's Note : With this piece I tried to convey the tragedy and loneliness of the life the common lichen suffers. I hope to be nominated for the Booker Prize next year, but the judges are generally fatuous morons who will vote for a book simply because it is "Interesting", "Moving" or "Not Shit". Philistines.
"Aura"
There was a change in the air, subtlety detectable as Gildersleeve walked through the botanical garden. It had only been a week since he had burnt all his family on the pyre, but the ash could still be smelt. He savoured it, thinking back to the dreams he had when Mr Bunny tried to tell him that the End of Days was nigh. Taking a moment to listen carefully for the slightest signs that told him Spring was approaching, he heard a crunch of footsteps on the courtyard gravel. Gildersleeve began loading his shotgun. It was time to do Momma proud.
Author's Note : I'm hoping this could win the Whitbread Book award. I think it's a powerful piece that conveys a lot of different emotions. Admittedly when I brought my book to the attention of the judges they dismissed it as "the ramblings of someone with the literary talent and emotional depth of a braindead chicken", but I'm sure they'll come round.
"Transcendence into Ecstasy."
As Bill embraced Petunia, she felt all her problems in the world fading away. She was carried away on a wave of ecstasy as a tsunami of joy engulfed her. The hurricane of love whirled around her as the minor tropical storm of desire fought its way to the front of her mind. Then they had sex.
Author's Note : This is probably my best chance for the National Book Award this year. It deals with some very complex issues in a mature and non-conformist way, and I think it's very challenging. Some critics have called it "Bollocks", and I'm glad to see they understand one of the difficult topics it tackles.
"My Life : A Life of a Trailblazer : The Angus Wellington Life"
Grandaddy was a big influence in my life. Having made his riches as a Scart Cable tycoon, he retired to live out his days reading pornographic magazines. Until he died from Intestinal Worms, he was my role model. Even when he threw away my entire Gundam Wing comic collection (included the Limited Edition one) I wasn't angry, because I was sure Grandaddy always knew best. But now I'm alone in the world, and I didn't know where to go. Forced to move out of Grandaddy's house at the young age of 51 when the Repo people came round, I found myself on the streets.
Author's Note : I've been trying to get this one in for the Commonwealth Writer's prize since I feel it removes the boundaries between difference cultures. Alas, they seem to feel different, calling it "a waste of good Trees", whatever the hell THAT's supposed to mean. Idiots.
So there you have it, some stunning upcoming works I'm sure you'll all be looking out for in the shops. Some time in the future, would you like Angus to return to share with us some more of his poetic majesty?
Warning : These stories are not for the weak of heart, or those soon having a transplant. Or those offering organs for transplant because it might destroy said organs.
With that out of the way, we can bask in his literary genius! Beneath each entry is a note from the author himself!
"Destiny"
Between an intersection of two motorways, beneath a pavement, in a place not touched by civilization since the dawn of time sat a small patch of lichen, alone in the darkness. Nobody cared for it; it had no healthcare and no benefit plan. But this is what our story revolves around – the challenges of the little people who don't have a hope. Like a rock left untouched by the waves of time from the sea of eternity, the lichen didn't have any of the social training we normally have. But nevertheless, as you will soon read, the life of a lichen can be fascinating and philosophical too.
Author's Note : With this piece I tried to convey the tragedy and loneliness of the life the common lichen suffers. I hope to be nominated for the Booker Prize next year, but the judges are generally fatuous morons who will vote for a book simply because it is "Interesting", "Moving" or "Not Shit". Philistines.
"Aura"
There was a change in the air, subtlety detectable as Gildersleeve walked through the botanical garden. It had only been a week since he had burnt all his family on the pyre, but the ash could still be smelt. He savoured it, thinking back to the dreams he had when Mr Bunny tried to tell him that the End of Days was nigh. Taking a moment to listen carefully for the slightest signs that told him Spring was approaching, he heard a crunch of footsteps on the courtyard gravel. Gildersleeve began loading his shotgun. It was time to do Momma proud.
Author's Note : I'm hoping this could win the Whitbread Book award. I think it's a powerful piece that conveys a lot of different emotions. Admittedly when I brought my book to the attention of the judges they dismissed it as "the ramblings of someone with the literary talent and emotional depth of a braindead chicken", but I'm sure they'll come round.
"Transcendence into Ecstasy."
As Bill embraced Petunia, she felt all her problems in the world fading away. She was carried away on a wave of ecstasy as a tsunami of joy engulfed her. The hurricane of love whirled around her as the minor tropical storm of desire fought its way to the front of her mind. Then they had sex.
Author's Note : This is probably my best chance for the National Book Award this year. It deals with some very complex issues in a mature and non-conformist way, and I think it's very challenging. Some critics have called it "Bollocks", and I'm glad to see they understand one of the difficult topics it tackles.
"My Life : A Life of a Trailblazer : The Angus Wellington Life"
Grandaddy was a big influence in my life. Having made his riches as a Scart Cable tycoon, he retired to live out his days reading pornographic magazines. Until he died from Intestinal Worms, he was my role model. Even when he threw away my entire Gundam Wing comic collection (included the Limited Edition one) I wasn't angry, because I was sure Grandaddy always knew best. But now I'm alone in the world, and I didn't know where to go. Forced to move out of Grandaddy's house at the young age of 51 when the Repo people came round, I found myself on the streets.
Author's Note : I've been trying to get this one in for the Commonwealth Writer's prize since I feel it removes the boundaries between difference cultures. Alas, they seem to feel different, calling it "a waste of good Trees", whatever the hell THAT's supposed to mean. Idiots.
So there you have it, some stunning upcoming works I'm sure you'll all be looking out for in the shops. Some time in the future, would you like Angus to return to share with us some more of his poetic majesty?
posted by Mkzrj at 1:33 pm
5 Comments:
lol, very good :D
I wonder how skilled he is at other forms of writing... like poems. Or newspaper articles.
I hope to see him published at some point in his career. I would endorse him.
Classic comedy
I have spotted every single tag-line. I demand a prize.
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