Notes on a yard sale gun purchase.

Author: Josh  |  Category: fiction, josh

This gun was something I came across at a yard sale. I was, at the time, a guest of a certain university’s graduate program in quantitative theology. For about a year, I was able to head a team attempting to measure the resistivity of the human soul. We had modeled the will with such precision that we could, with the aid of electric fields, produce in voluntary subjects sensations indistinguishable from emotion, desire, tranquility, etc. 1

My tenure as head of this project was brief, however, due to the interference of a cuordoroy jacketed interloper. A literature professor on a one year loan from an indeterminate eastern university, he was interested in trans-curricular studies and expressed a desire to participate in the project. He contacted my assistant via gem-engraved lawn dart, and following a brief courtship, explained his interest in our research. The self-described “literateur” intended to provide our team with test subjects, and then write about their individual progress in the project.2 Eager to expand the base of our test subjects, we agreed.

He failed to include on his vitae, however, that the state he wished to induce, in a group consisting solely of his more attractive female students, was a sensation indistinguishable from desire. He was successful, and published a number of papers on his findings. The phenomena he observed, termed educator lust, in conjunction with films he made of his experimental procedure, cost us our lab and our funding. There were positive effects, however, as the visiting professor received a Tanner Fellowship and eventually, an “endowed chair of comparative gender studies.”


1. A French team had concurrent data supporting the simulation of liberté, fraternité, and egalité, but the Nobel committee overlooked both of us in favor of a pack of squawking Yalies who had spent the summer inducing beat-driven tremors and convulsions in young subjects. When the undergraduate target is exposed to strong, periodic stimulation in the form of either sound or light, under certain conditions, these stimuli can override the normal firing of neurons. The synapses in the brain actually begin firing in sequence with the stimuli. This is the phenomenon responsible for the apparent propensity of Japanese children to seize during video games. The victorious team exploited this effect, called auditory (sound) or photic (light) driving, and induced a state of complete apoplexy in 87 per cent of their test population. Their treatise, published earlier that year, Electric Variation of Boogalotic Behavior in Photic-Driven Youths: The Establishment of a Krush Groove, or in preprint, “Who Makes the Body Rock?” is considered the seminal work in the field.

2. His collection of poems and short fiction, entitled “Emotion: The Feelings my Feelings are Feeling” is available from Livre Pathetique, Rue de Bette, Paris.

Marshall Dillon tackles sexual dysfunction

Author: Josh  |  Category: fiction, josh

James ArnessMy trip to Tiffany’s Waikiki went better than I expected. My fiance impressed me with her choice of wedding jewelry–a pair of mirror-bright Barrington brother’s 70 caliber game rifles trimmed in ivory and standing attentive in quickset florists foam with a splash of baby’s breath.

“They’re beautiful.” My lover struggled to remain composed but nearly wept at the weight of them.

The attendant smiled politely. “They have hair triggers and a set of 100 cartridges is included. “

As she handed one of the display cases to me, it was my turn to fight tears. The chamber was surround by a metallic starburst of precision machining. What I’d thought was a setting fixture for the rifles was instead a wreath of 700 nitro express rounds. I was beginning to hallucinate the scent of cordite filling the display cases and spilling into the street, telling the world of our love.
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“Nein, mein amigo. I am born of Paraguay.”

Author: Josh  |  Category: fiction, josh

How is it that a woman like you, so beautiful…so charming…so delightfully scented of hornets and clover, can engender within me both the sort of desire which until just this moment had been the solitary domain of impossibly wealthy men who ache for riches even they recognize as wasteful and ridiculous, and the confusion of a child who, having stepped on a mouse, has yet to decide whether or not he liked it, the step, and its subsequent sound and moisture.


These are the sorts of things I say to garner attention. If at a party, I’ll shriek wildly about interest rates and their precipitous decline thanks to the scores of plucky Chinamen and their indomitable spirits. What I mean by this tirade is, of course, that the salsa has reached a new and dizzying height of spiciness, piquant and formidable, bordering on the inedible. Cayenne is the great equalizer. At least this is true of capsicum oil, the active ingredient in cayenne. Death is also, classically, the great equalizer. Extreme abdominal cramps tend to greatly equalize too. The existence Read more…

Incident at the Durango Fairgrounds

Author: Josh  |  Category: fiction, josh

While waiting to judge a hangar full of preserves and 4-H macramé disasters, I watched one of the fairground’s auxiliary police officers sprint past me into the Gallery of Hays. It’s an exhibit designed to cultivate corporate interest in the “development of sturdier grasses for consumption by livestock and, eventually, man.” An eighth grader at Graham Gardner Middle had postulated that if humans would simply practice eating hay, alfalfa, rye, etc. that we could evolve into creatures capable of digesting it effectively. This would not only solve hunger problems but would help us, as a race, to appreciate the dilemma facing livestock, namely “Why should I eat only to be eaten.” The town council thought this idea wonderful and began immediately raising funds to develop grasses which were flavored, textured, and I hope, composed molecularly in fashions more suitable for human tastes. A terribly misinformed gentleman from GreenPeace apparently meant to stop this Anthrocentric abuse of local plant life and the horrifying anti-cow legislation to which it would inevitably lead (according to his attorney). He stormed the Gallery about an hour before it opened, in as much as one man can effectively storm any surplus airforce hangar which is only locked in the dead of winter to protect the hays from freezing (which won’t be necessary if the research is sufficiently funded and the hardier strains take hold).

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Flier from local haunted house.

Author: Josh  |  Category: josh, Uncategorized

Say Halloween to most parents and you hear,

I love Halloween, but how do I celebrate the most fun-riffic of fun holidays without turning my kids into candy-toting targets for the crack-addled crosshairs of pushers, prostitutes, and pederasts?

Well, no need to worry. Parents, adults, and kids of all ages can spend a spooky, but safe, all hallow’s eve this year at a family-oriented haunted house. Our Lady of the Holy Redemptor, at 314 Brewster Square, presents its House of Horror this October 27-31. Our Teens for Christ youth council has outsourced the construction of the haunted hall to Lovecraft Enterprises, and our parishioners’ donations (which paid for the transformation of our cathedral) were not wasted.

From the Maze of Hybrid Squalor Near the Ancient Waterfront Opposite Governor Island to the Gardens Which Laugh and Speak, Insolent in Their Chromatic Perversion, you are guaranteed to be creeped out to the MAX. Get ready for fun and fear, and a rock-climbing wall! Our choir loft has been mutated into a monstrously convincing Babel of Sound and Filth and our prayer room was proud to become the Tangle of Material and Spiritual Putrescence of Blashpemies.

And it’s all for you!

Whether you are an elder god, or just an old fashioned unspeakable subterranean menace with a sinless love of Halloween fun, this haunted house is for you. Listen to these satisfied customers from former events:

* I staggered dizzily, shut my eyes, and covered my ears.
o Karen Whitcomb, teacher, age 29

* I dashed about in the chaotic world that unholy temple had woven about me.
o Wesley Miller, loan officer, age 53

* Holding my knife as far as possible ahead of me, I started once again for the shining crystal.
o Mandi, student, age 7

Remember folks, tell your friends, although we are fairly certain that any description by mortal tongue of the shaggy, dream breeding exhalations to be found at this fun and family oriented event will cause the listener to be driven irrevocably mad with horror.

Praise the Lord! And come on out!