Brief Conceits

Home

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 12:00:00 +0000

If ever there was want of home, I have it. It calls to me over the miles upon miles of ocean waves. It beckons me with sweet siren song, driving me mad. I consider for a moment swimming home, but my brain pipes in, "Wait to fly. It's much faster."

Though it's only briefly been my home, it is home still to me. Home sweet home, as the saying goes. And home I want to be.

Farewell, sunny Africa. You've been good to me. Now I'm off to where the buffalo roam, and the wheat fields stretch out like a sea.

The Case of the Fourth Wall

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Shamrock O'Malley and I sat in our study, as we often had before.

"Like old times," I reminisced.

"Indeed," Shamrock noted, "Except for the convoluted way in which I somehow came back to life. I dare say if this were a story and not real life, I would say the author of our tale wasn't really trying."

"In any case," I said, "things are back to normal."

"Quite right," Shamrock agreed but not for long, "though if the events of today would foreshadow anything, it would be that our new adventures just won't have the spark they had before I died."

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Mortobo

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Mortobo spied the gathering mob of the village. He drew his knife. "Stay back," he called out as the people drew near, "or I shall bring lightning down upon you."

The people mumbled among themselves hesitantly, and the elder of the village was pushed forward.

"Mortobo," his voice shook, "you are no longer welcome here."

"No one commands Mortobo!"

The elder motioned to several warriors of the village. Five approached the witch.

Crack!

Lightning flew from Mortobo's knife, and one man fell dead. The other four charged.

Crack! Crack!

Another two men fell before an ax was lodged in Mortobo's head.

Beauty

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Crickets still sound the same on the other side of the world. I imagine they are crickets. If not, they are excellent imitators of that which they have never seen nor heard.

Everything is beautiful here, even the ugly things. But I cannot help missing that which is not here, what I have left behind.

I close my eyes and I see more clearly than when I was there. My hand can reach out and touch what is so firm in my imagination.

With opened eyes the immense beauty of this place only reminds me of the beauty I left behind.

The Case of Science

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Continued from The Case of Doctor Walton, The Case of Zombie O'Malley, The Case of the Gypsy Amulet, The Case of the Magician, The Case of Another Detour and The Case of the Anachronistic Quote.
~~~

Meriwether O'Malley did not acknowledge us as we entered his study. He was huddled over beakers of various colored liquids.

"Dear brother," my zombified friend, the late Shamrock O'Malley said.

Meriwether coughed and continued to stand over his chemistry set.

Shamrock and I shared glances. Shamrock's left eye fell out of its socket as we did.

"Dear brother," Shamrock tried again, "I am in need of the miraculous powers of science to free me of this gypsy curse!"

Meriwether looked up slowly. "De-zombifying Chamber on the left," he said.

"Well, that's rather a convenient development," I proclaimed.

"It's SCIENCE!" Meriwether shouted.

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Johannesburg

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Johannesburg is a city that sprawls over the African landscape. You can drive for what seems like forever, and you'll still be in Johannesburg. You'll drive past the quaint suburbs, the skyscrapers of the business district, the shantytowns filled with little more than shacks, the rich walled-off living areas. You're still in Jo'burg, as the locals call it

But you begin to wonder if there are actually any locals at all, or if we all have been caught in the unrelenting gravity of Johannesburg. Some have just been here longer than others. You cannot seem to leave even if you try.

Brought to You by the Letter Q

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

"Hey kids! It's Grusto!" a grimy puppet declares, "We're going to have all sorts of fun learning about the letter . . ." he waits for the letter to be superimposed upon the television screen. It is a Q. "Wait . . . What? Q? Are we serious? Is there any less useful letter?"

"Hey there, Grusto!" an odd-shaped puppet enters the frame.

"Who are you?" Grusto asks.

"I'm the country of Iraq," the puppet's shape now kind of makes sense, "My name ends in the letter Q."

"You know what else has a Q in it?" Grusto asks. "Quagmire. Can you say quagmire, kids at home?"

~~~
More episodes of "It's Grusto!"

The Case of the Anachronistic Quote

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Continued from The Case of Doctor Walton, The Case of Zombie O'Malley, The Case of the Gypsy Amulet, The Case of the Magician, and The Case of Another Detour.
~~~

"My brother Meriwether heads the Academy of Science," Zombie Shamrock O'Malley was beating himself up (and bits of him were flying everywhere), "It's so obvious! Why hadn't I thought of it before?"

"Perhaps it's because you lack a quarter of your brain," I observed through his skull.

"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, my dear Doctor Walton," O'Malley explained to me, "Therefore; it should be a simple process to reverse the gypsy magic that turned me into a zombie with one of my brother's technologies."

I momentarily dreamed of the bygone days when I would have called this ridiculous.

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Thor

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

"It's Thursday, Pieter. Where are your sheets?" Sylvia says.

"I wasn't aware that Thursday was sheet-day," PJ mumbles.

"I want those sheets now."

"Yeah, yeah," PJ sits at the lunch table and mutters, "I've been home for three months and it's never been sheets on Thursday."

"Thursday is derived from 'Thor's Day,'" I quip, "Thor being the Norse god of thunder . . . and bed sheets."

PJ smiles, "How silly of me to forget."

"Where are those sheets?" Sylvia calls from several rooms away.

"You better get those bed sheets," Alan says, "or you will have to deal with the god of thunder."

The Compound

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

"Do you ever think of outside?" Matthew casually asked.

"That's crazy talk," Joey said, "There's nothing but inside."

"Why is it called inside, if there isn't an outside?"

Matthew and Joey lived inside the Compound, a large building with no windows or doors leading out.

"What we have here is special," Joey said, "You'll let all we've got pass you by because you're daydreaming about some fantasy 'outside.'"

Matthew had been digging through the wall of his compartment with a spoon. After twenty meters in, he was ready to give up until a small beam of light pierced his dark tunnel.

The Case of Another Detour

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

Continued from The Case of Doctor Walton, The Case of Zombie O'Malley, The Case of the Gypsy Amulet, and The Case of the Magician.
~~~

"I'm sorry," Edward Hilton said, "but my magic tricks are beyond countering gypsy magic."

"Another dead end," the zombified remains of Shamrock O'Malley cried, "Excuse the pun, dear Walton."

"Well what do we do now?" I said with an exasperated sigh.

"If I may," Edward said, "the proper way to counter-act magic spells would be to seek the opposite of magic, yes?"

"Of course!" O'Malley snapped his fingers two different ways. "The opposite of magic is technology. To the Academy of Science!"

I sighed again as we were off yet to another location, and Shamrock's body parts were barely holding together.

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Contemplation

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

George stood on the Golden Gate Bridge and marveled at the majestic pinks and purples of the fast-dwindling daylight hovering over the Pacific Ocean. He let out a deep sigh, because there was no one around for hundreds of miles who could enjoy it with him.

Being a self-aware zombie was not all it was cracked up to be.

"Am I a freak of nature?" George asked the demolished vehicles rusting on the bridge. "Why am I the only zombie who still knows anything? Sometimes I envy the mindless zombie horde."

George considered ending it all, but he was already dead.

Plane Ride

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

The air has long since become stale. My eyes can no longer focus on the tiny words printed in the book. They dance about the page, jeering me, mocking me. I fiddle with the air nozzle, but it has not miraculously begun working somehow. I push the assistance button.

BUM!

The stewardess answers, "Do you need anything sir?"

"Susan," I don't actually remember the name she gave while demonstrating how a seatbelt works, "Susan, I am ready to get off."

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't land in Johannesburg for another six hours."

My final shred of sanity crumbles into dust.

Books: The Television of Ancient Phoenicia

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

"Amun, help your father with—" Eshmun freezes mid-sentence as he catches his son in the most abhorrent of acts. "What are you doing, Amun?"

"Nothing," Amun quickly hides a scroll behind his back.

"Are you," Eshmun exhales loudly, "reading?!"

"It's not what it looks like," Amun pleads.

"My son is literate?" Eshmun laments theatrically. "Is there nothing more evil and corrupt than reading?"

"Father, reading is not all bad!"

"All readers do is sit around all day getting sick and fat as they consume books filled with nothing but sex and violence. What is wrong with oral tradition, I ask you?"

The Origin and Death of Asbestos-Boy

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

It was a grim time for the asbestos industry. Defending multiple civil cases, and fighting a growing public outcry against the use of asbestos, it was agreed that was the industry needed was a fresh face. If only the general public was made more aware of the good properties of asbestos, fortunes would turn again in their favor.

Thus Asbestos-Boy was conceived. Super strength and flexibility, resilience to extreme heat and imperviousness to chemical and electrical attacks were only a few of the asbestos-based powers of Asbestos-Boy.

Sadly, Asbestos-Boy was not impervious to cancer, asbestos's one weakness. That and respiratory disease.

~~~
More adventures of the St. Louis Superheroes!

Casey

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 12:00:00 +0000

"CASEY!" a high pitched scream echoed through the empty halls of the dusty house. "CASEY! CASEY! CASEY!"

"What? What? What?" Casey answered.

Tiffany rushed into Casey's room, which was the same as every other room in the house except for the fact that she called it. "Casey, I saw a monster!" Tiffany was gulping breast of air.

"Impossible!" Casey said. "Monsters aren't indigenous to this area!"

"Well, I saw one!"

Tiffany led Casey to the room in which the monster resided. Casey swallowed and with her bravest face on entered. Tiffany waited with grim expectations.

"It's just a chipmunk!" Casey called.

2010

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 06:00:00 +0000

A new dawn is rising.
Can you see it, dear boy?
With the rising of the sun
Comes new possibility.
Ride out and seize the day
As if there were no tomorrow.

A new year is upon us.
Who knows what may come?
Keep alive your dreams.
Follow the direction of your heart.
For if you keep hope alive
You may be pleasantly surprised.

Winter

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 00:21:00 +0000

Louis took a deep breath in through his nostrils, "Can you feel it?"

"Feel what?" Hannah replied, shivering.

"That winter air! Isn't it great?"

"You mean the biting cold? The wind that blows straight through you no matter how many layers you're wearing?"

"The delightful monochromatic ambiance," Louis continued, "The absolute stillness of the landscape."

"The gloomy, dreary sameness of it all?" Hannah retorted. "The strange sensation that nothing is alive and never will be again? The lingering doubt of your own mortality?"

"The long evenings! Hot chocolate by a roaring fire!"

"Limited daylight! Vitamin D deficiencies! Frostbite!"

"Snow," Louis smiled.

Theodore

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 05:05:00 +0000

"Every day is the same," Theodore says with an apathetic sigh, "Nothing interesting ever happens."

Two kung fu masters fly through a window behind him. Glass pieces rain to the floor. A battle of battles is waged to Theodore's backside. He does not notice.

"My life is just one dull series of events leading to more dull series of events," Theodore picks at his teeth.

From multiple directions, the kung fu masters are surrounded by ninjas. They form a temporary alliance to deal with the new threat. This all happens outside of Theodore's scope of vision.

"Bored out of my mind!"

The Pain Cuts Deep

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0000

"How about we watch A Knight's Tale tonight? I liked that movie," Annette says.

"No, we can't watch that," Paige says, "The main character is dead. It's just too painful to watch. Why don't we watch This Is It instead?"

"He's dead, too!" I cry. "We can't watch that, either!"

"What about Clueless? We could watch that!" Adam suggests.

"Brittany Murphy's dead, too!" Dana laments.

"I know," I say, "How about we watch old OxiClean infomercials?"

The entire group wails in agony.

"I had to throw out three tubs of the stuff," Ron says, "It reminded me too much of him!"

Reason for the Season

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0000

The young Macphersons swarmed the Christmas tree like locusts on a ripe field. They greedily snatched at presents without regard for anyone or anything.

"Hold it right there," said Mama Macpherson, "You youngins have forgotten the reason for the season!"

"Sorry, Ma," the Macpherson kids said in unison.

"Why dontcha sing a Christmas carol, and think about who gave you those presents."

A melancholy verse rose in the living room:

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday, Baby Jesus.
Happy birthday to you!

Mama Macpherson wiped a single tear from her eye, "That's what Christmas is all about!"

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 5

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0000

Gifutoman was waiting for Santa on the summit of Mount Fuji.

"Your reign ends now, Gifutoman!" Santa said. "I'm canceling Christmas!"

"You cannot cancel Christmas," Gifutoman said in the English dub (supposedly Gifutoman is better with the Japanese voice and English subtitles), "Only with rampant materialism can we recover from this worldwide recession." Gifutoman shot rockets from his elbows.

Santa dodged. "What about charity and goodwill toward men?" Santa said as he pummeled Gifutoman into submission.

The children of the world woke up to stockings full of coal, and developed a cynical spirit that followed them the rest of their lives.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 4

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 04:12:00 +0000

"There is only one solution," Santa's voice carried with it a stoic steadiness that it never really had before. The laughter had ended. His belly was rock candy hard with conviction. "Every child is on the naughty list this year."

"You can't put every child on the naughty list!" Jangle the elf protested, "That's— that's—"

"—the truth," Santa said, the twinkle now gone from his eye, "If children are so consumed with material things, then they will be better off if Christmas just didn't come this year."

"What about Gifutoman?" Jangle asked.

"I'll take care of Gifutoman," Santa narrowed his eyes.

To be concluded . . .

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 3

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0000

Gifutoman!
You are number one best!
Gifutoman!
Give us gifts!
It is now the Christmas time!
Peace on Earth and fighting crime!
Gifutoman!

Santa watched with horror as the Christmas special, Gifutoman Super Kurisumasu GX's theme song played on the television. "This is horrible! It's consumerism at its worst! This isn't what Christmas is supposed to be about at all!"

Jangle the elf mumbled, "You know, you're partly to blame, Santa."

"What? No! How?"

"Your focus on presents just made the children eager for more. And Gifutoman just gives out presents indiscriminately regardless of behavior. Can you really blame the children?"

To be continued . . .

The Year Santa Stole Christmas- Part 2

emhamilton@gmail.com (Eric Hamilton) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 12:00:00 +0000

Gifutoman had taken the world by storm. Children everywhere had abandoned Santa Claus for the sleek new Japanese character that brought gifts to children on Christmas and then battled gigantic robotic dinosaurs from the future.

"Gifutoman Super Kurisumasu GX has completely replaced all of the classic Christmas standards: Rudolph, Frosty, Shrek the Halls," Jangle listed.

Santa pounded his plump fist on his desk, "Not Shrek the Halls!"

"Kids just love the anime Japanese stuff nowadays," Jangle said, "It was a matter of time."

"No!" Santa's cheeks reddened like roses . . . angry roses. "I refuse to be ousted by a cheap Japanese knock-off!"

To be continued . . .