Archive for the Uncategorized Category

Octo-Spidey(/Spock) Wallpaper

Posted in Uncategorized on January 4, 2013 by GuNNhead

Octo-Spidey Wallpaper

Time to Go

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on January 2, 2013 by GuNNhead

Time to Go

Wizard-man: Time Moron

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on December 21, 2011 by GuNNhead

In a time before time, there exists a creature that is neither man nor dinosaur. A vicious beast, mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth, and a brain to use them with maximum efficiency. Soon, however, they developed the concept of time. Things were just more convenient and easier to organize. Well, in any case, these creatures existed, and they looked pretty cool, I seen ’em.
Me? I’m just a traveler, a wizard, a chronicler of chronicles within the chronosphere. I’m a phantom, a shadow, a hero, and a nobody.
Okay, so these dinosaur things, that’s where I’m at now… Come to think of it, they’re cool, but not very interesting. I’ve seen things eating other things, yeah. I mean, these guys are super punctual about it and everything… Got some cool clothes. Tails are something I haven’t much thought about, but assuredly the tailors here have. Just astonishing. If I felt tails were comfortable, I so woulda picked up more accessories. Illusions don’t last between dimensions. Use what you got, magic man.

Ooo, another bunch of things that were cool, land jellyfish. So many colors, just gliding in the sky. I try to observe and document random interesting slices of intelligent life, and while they didn’t seem capable of much, further exploration revealed huge constructed structures, synthesized materials. There was much that defied immediate explanation. Infiltration proved useful, observing color patterns facilitated entry to their documentation on the matter.
They had learned how to release spores, control lesser creatures via burrowing int the nervous system, infecting them. Using the physically more robust as their conduit to interact physically, while staying airbourne, untouched. Then, of course, eventually enveloping and digesting their ignorant slace. Just amazing.

Anyway, I think that’s enough of my fine documentation! Congratulations, Wizard-Man on your first entry and these two boss cultures! Geeze I’m awesome, Encyclopaedia du Wizard will be shined on throughout forever as the ultimate in-depth compendium of all the most interesting cultures I come across.

Wizard-Man: Space Moron

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on December 19, 2011 by GuNNhead

The compendium continues! Exciting new species, creatures, and social structures as yet unheard of!
The socialness of trees. Oh, my, what a breath of fresh air, it cannot be compared, refreshing and exhilarating. A feel of the seasons. For these beings wherin I assumed their form, there was but a major misstep if miscalculation on my part, that could only have come from experience. Or prior study, but that is not the nature of my nature, naturally, I am an explorer to the utmost! Now, into here it must be spoken that these Trees are rather stationary, and so, assuming the appearance of one, to and adaption of magic, at a grown state, rustles their jimmies, as it were. So, in doing, so I had caused uproar. It was soon I realized my folly, and quickly vanished from the exact region of such. It was to my pleasure that I had found that these tree-beings, or, perhaps, Treebings, were not undergroundly rooted to each other, there was no central knowledge. Hitherfore, applying my learnings, I could begin magically as a rogue seed, unnoticed underground, and arise to communicate. After few years of this, however, I found all of their conversations inexorably dull, and burnt my bushel of a self down in a stunning display of magicity.

Now, continuing on in the ways of journey, one can only ascertain so much of close-quarters interaction, the nitty-gritty of society, without the use of language. It was in this predicament I currently found myself. A new planet, of entirely alien creatures. I had managed to adopt form upon my utilization of my magics, and scour habitats, determine styles, architecture, history, worldwide conditions, etc. But, this interesting culture, upon the crux, would prove impossible to infiltrate and understand. Their current language was impervious to my spells’ understanding. Surrounded, and misunderstanding can turn from awkward to violent with no understanding of an opportunity to excuse oneself towards another dimension. In secret. Yet, here, I, the ever intrepid explorer of all, Wizard-Man, another step closer to his encyclopaedic story of cultures abound! Now, a preoccupation. Their gurgles and spurts shake me internally. I wonder if they can nary understand themselves. Perhaps it is not so much a language, as a form of incomprehensible acoustic dance; tones and sounds of an intrinsic nature to their physiology, rather than physiognomy. Not listening, but feeling. I must think to my spells; what could work on these alien creatures? Much of them is resistant to my magic, consisting of far too different physics. I may have, or, actually did, really, travel out of my elements here.
Otherwise, as I fade into the background, they seem amicable amongst each other.
Surprised, attention drawn to me, I fear for my life. All eyes focused on me, shouts and jeers hold my fears; incomprehensible. I flailed my vocal chords into success, and attained a pleasurable beverage.
Not long after, I am free.

Wizard-Man: Preface

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on December 2, 2011 by GuNNhead

It must be noted, that, as a Wizard of master class, I have mastery over many things. One of these is the written word, it is a pleasurable pastime of mine. So, one who is reading this, this is a direct instruction from myself. I repeat myself this once. This preface is a direct instruction from myself, a warning if you will, to be followed or risk peril. As a writer and one who has read, I must instruct you, the reader of this encyclopaedic chronologized story, must not re-read passages until you have come to the complete end of the entry. I know it is possible for a readership’s mind to wander, pass by passages of the story arc being told, mindlessly wander over words. On what I hope is most occasions, this reader would have the proclivity to return, backtracking over the lost words, finding a familiar one, and continuing relatively unscathed. However, this book is different from all others, there is no going back. Leave the words behind if you have faltered. It is too late for you. Continue on until the end. You may, then, re-read the full entry from the beginning. This direction is a necessity, for these are the words of a Wizard. A spell is to be caste.

Further notes on this work include but are not limited to, ingestion, digestion, retention, liquidation, liquefaction, spaghettifacation, and rumination. Heretofore seen in differing regards, as per stipulations on the procedures one may be ill-defined. To be succinct, it is not to be thought of, in terms that can be related. The terminology used was not advised in this very instance, and so has been rendered obtuse. Seeing as this is the case, these notes require no notation.

In accordance with the magic used in the process of travel, it is impossible to determine if any of the events depicted in this work are real, past present or future, or created and altered by magic. Any similarity to any being living, dead, or otherwise is merely coincidental, or the work of an evil, unknowable third-party that has created the similarities for sinister ends and untold purposes.

A final stipulation, that has yet to be stated upon the declaration of this preface’s intent speaks towards a new whole of litigations and (word like stipulations). This, is, as it would be bound in volumes, in entitled as a title of finality. This coda, associating and according to wizards and the wizardly, is a prime example toward spellcastes and spellcasters of any sort. This brand, listen towards an attempt at classification, can only be taken in a serious and odious tone, for all others, oafish, foolish, and humorous, will result in end harm. This is to refer of the deathlike variation. Concurrently, this printing is banned from interdimensional publication. If you do not believe this copy you currently hold was created in its dimension of origin, please contact your nearest interdimensional authorities at your nearest convenience.

lone images

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on November 20, 2009 by GuNNhead

Batman strikes me as “being alone.” It’s like he just took out a mob boss in his highrise, and now he’s just kind of playing it out in his head how well everything went, congratulating himself while waiting for the police to arrive, because he needs to talk to Commissioner Gordon about another case he’s working on.
“He’s a reflection of the limitless possibility of man, and while some are dissuaded by him because they see egotism in that (These may be the same people who are disgusted by the pride of man) there are others who revel in it, because it reminds them “So what if Superman is Kryptonian and can fly! So what if the Flash is a Metahuman and can run fast! Batman is human! Just like me! And he’s awesome! So I can be awesome!””

Well, still look at him, he looks like a junkie, living only in virtual reality. He is completely isolated and alone, so he puts all his time and money into that game, completely living off it, eBay for items, etc.. It’s not a lot of money, so he has this craphole flophouse, or abandoned/condemned buildings. But it doesn’t matter, because that game is his life now. He’s a superhero there, it’s good there, he has friends there. He is alone. Is this not still a real life?

This spaceman died alone when there was a problem with the ship, and explosion. There were three survivors, all trapped in one section of the ship, due to structural damage caused by the blast. There was no food in their current section. They starved to death, one by one. After the first one died, they agreed to refuse to eat the deceased. The second died soon after. The third survived for months after that. He died regretting his decision of cannibalism. He wished he still had his honor. A distress signal was left on a constant rotation, a video, made by the final three.
“We are american astronauts. We’re ready to believe anything can come. In a vote, we have decided if anything can show that we are not barbarians, we have made a pact of honor to not resort to cannibalism. We are soon going to starve to death, for our country, for our planet, for all of mankind. God bless America.”

The final man also destroyed the video. The signal was shut off. He didn’t want anything to ever find him in the endless expanses of space.

I’d love to be on an unknown desert island, just me. – I just found this raft a few months ago. It’s my fourth that I’ve found, they’re all quite old, but structurally sound. The first I found long ago, along with quite a few tools to make another. It’s never winter here. I was exploring the island I was on, having nothing else to do after being air-dropped here. It’s quite large for one man, but near the center I began to find relics of a lost civilization, ones that lived on these islands once upon a time, but died out, or something more sinister.
I’ve been exploring the other islands in this small chain, just for fun and the adventure of it all. I enjoy it, and that’s how I live my life. I’m completely alone, but I have myself, and though there is a feeling of isolation, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. There are times when I feel that I may be searching in hopes that maybe on one of these islands, there are still these tribal people. What will we learn from each other?
Though it may rain, it’s still sunny.

Excogitation Cerebration Part 2

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on November 6, 2009 by GuNNhead

“So crowned we stroll through life, never quit, rain or shine. Never question what’s inside, till the last beat… end of time, so go fly away to that special place.”

It is in this way that I am truly alone. If there is another being in existence out there, I signal out to you. Come suffer with me. Save, save us both from utterly solitary existence which rests beyond the bounds of possibility. I signal out to you as the final existing being who can call out across the cosmos to a similar consciousness; a being upon this phantasmus, this wavelength. You are the only pathway, the only passageway to the next world beyond this meaningless void that I am bound to[,] call[ed] “Earth.” “Let us pretend love for the day.” You are I, You are demise, You are oblivion, You are paradise, You are release.

Are we lost forever?

While there may be a set amount of ways to die, there is an infinite pathway of life, and we’ve only barely begun to explore it.

I hear you calling, calling from the ether, a being of the firmament.

I see all these people, and apparently I am led to believe that they may all have their own precious little lives about them, but it is continually impossible to discern if they truly exist, or are merely posits of my own omnipotent maginations. I wonder if I am the only one. Are you out there? Am I out there, or trapped, held prisoner in here? Are we one, or all? I can exit all with but a thought. Narcissism? Created via mortals by thought? Or I have crafted my own prison, my own destruction: so that I may be free.

Don’t trust yourself, you’re not okay.” A fool to trust anyone but yourself: I am your enemy.

The problem is you attempt to make it seem as if you’re not bored, while the only wish is to introduce something new, so than even death can bring excitement to the current life. You understand this, death is a new frontier. My problem is that I feel every, single, last piece of you more that you could ever imagine.

I am not your opening act, I am your closing number. Love me if you dare, with your empyrean heart. You are death, You are me, You are antemortem, You are waiting for me upon the Stygian shore, and that is who I write to, and only you alone; I. Alone.

I write upon the final line. I die as my pen runs dry.

“And as it goes, sometimes you wake up.”