It was another night with another story about a damsel in distress.
The dame in question was one Julia von Larke. Daughter of Aloysius von Larke, made his name as an owner of family business Von Larke Pharmaceuticals, military contracts for morphine during the war. Having served as one of the Kaiser’s men in the war beforehand, Uncle Sam swept him up in the thirties after his folks got killed during the rise of the NSDAP. When the Pacific campaigns ended, he started dealing to private practices, keeping veteran hopheads with needles in their arms; shady, but legal all... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
As for me? I was just another out-of-business private eye with a half-tank of gasoline and too much curiosity for his own goddamn good. I yanked the wheel and my old black pony groaned, pulling off 9th Avenue onto the tunnel road. It glared up from below, the orange-lit maw of the city. One slip of the hand and it would swallow you up whole. I’d seen it happen before. The first broad.
I didn’t even know about her until she turned up a floater in the Hudson. You could see it from the newspaper. Water in her lungs, and a pair of starry doe eyes that never stopped getting excited to be seeing the Big Apple first-hand. Pretty. The innocent-looking kind of pretty. Small-town Georgia girl sweet on a big-city guy doing his nation proud over there in Korea. She told him she’d wait for him when he shipped out; life has funny ways of making you break your promises. Thanks to some friends in low places, I got hold of the pictures that the press wouldn’t publish.... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Hey /lit/! My friend has started getting very interested in Steven Molyneux, and he is constantly linking me videos, and talking about how much he agrees with everything he says.
I think he is going a little bit over the top in his obsession. Every time we go anywhere, he tells everyone about Steven Molyneux and how everything his says is right and very interested etc.
I read a few nights ago that FDR is kind of like a cult, and Molyneux is a weirdo who no one should listen to? If it's true that Molyneux is a weirdo, how can I convince my friend to no agree with him?
>I read a few nights ago that FDR is kind of like a cult, and Molyneux is a weirdo who no one should listen to?
An understatement. The guy is hysterical, frantic, generally turbo-batshit.
>If it's true that Molyneux is a weirdo, how can I convince my friend to no agree with him?
I'm too autistic to help. I don't feel like he would even entertain a principled critique. Go dig up Molyneux's mad ramblings about how much he hates his mother. He uploaded the video, then took it down,... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Obviously adults who read YA books are the lowest of the low, but are teenagers allowed to read them? I have sisters aged 14 and 16, and for Christmas I was thinking about buying them 'The Alchemist' and 'Looking For Alaska' because they're both keen readers and it's exactly the sort of shit that they'll love to read.
However, I am worried that if I encourage them to read YA books now, I might inadvertently lead them into a lifetime of being plebs. So my second option is to buy them Ulysses and Infinite Jest.
The door seems stuck but not wanting to set the groceries down I have to shove it a couple times with my hip before it pops open. It's been eight months sense I've been here and instantly it feels good to be home. The job was only supposed to last two weeks but the offer was far too tempting to pass up.
Coding and building are my passions, a couple years ago I build a small submersible ROV to explore the nearby lake and for it I had developed a modulation method to transmit and receive relatively high bandwidth data over sonar, the code was opensourced and... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Setting my bags down on the table and hear a little servo actuates an empy mist bottle making a quack like noise which draws my attention to the now dead bonzi tree, I had set up a timer on an actuator to mist bottle before I left but the water had long sense ran out, I reach out to feel the needles on the tree and when I touch it quite a few of them fall out. Sighing as glance at the refrigerator and I start rummaging through my grocery bags to find the kitchen gloves and heavy duty garbage bags, this is not going to be fun.
I hear someone run in through the hallway and I realize that I left the door open, I turn to see a stunning young Asian girl grinning ear to ear as she exclaims that I'm finally back. It takes a moment for it to register before I blurt out "Nozi?"
What had started many years ago out of desperation of her parents, my hall mates, to find someone to look after her for a couple hours during an emergency had quickly grown into a friendship with the six year old. The girl was inquisitive and bright and found my little projects fascinating, soon she was hanging around most days after school learning how to solder and the function of various components I had given her some arduino kits and taught her how to do some coding in objective C. While I really have a hard time interacting and forming friendships with most people things were different with us. She had even slept on my couch a couple times towards the end when her parents arguments turned violent. Eventually her parents separated, her mom took her back to Japan and her dad married some fat white bitch with two half Mexican shithead boys and together they have a two year old baby.
"No-zo-mi!" she corrected fanning indigence and placing her arms on her hips. "Yes Mam" I reply overly crisply and somewhat awkwardly.
Her smile again cracks as she runs and jumps up to give me a big hug with one arm over my shoulder. More of a reflex not to let her fall than a reciprocation of a hug I wrap my arms around her and instantly feel uncomfortable. She whispers in my ear half crying "Oh anon I've missed you so much" and kissed me on the cheek. Blushing and somewhat mechanically I set her down asking how things where in japan with her mother and what brings her back.
She tells with out much emotion that Japan sucked, she could hardly speak the language, all the kids in school made fun of her for not being Japanese enough, her mom started drinking and couldn't keep a job and eventually killed herself about six months ago and moved back in with her dad… "but things will be better now that I'm back with you."
"Oh, I'm sorry" is about all I can reply.
She notices the gloves and garbage bag and offers to help muck out the mess and doesn't even complain, while cleaning with me she asks about my adventure in Alaska, she really focuses in on my picking up the guy with the rover and is convinced that I saved someones life even though I'm sure they would have gotten him, they had called in a helicopter to find him anyhow.
She seemed not to notice how awkward I was and came by daily for the next few weeks, she would do her homework at my table because she cant study in her apartment and would show me her robotic dolls which she built and programmed herself. Each time we met she would greet me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, which I started returning. We would discuss things like SpaceX's plan to colonize mars or why I didn't own a TV or what my childhood was like or if I had ever had a girlfriend. Once the matter of sex and virginity came up, she asked me if I would like to have sex with her, I stated clearly that that would be illegal and that was the end of that subject.
It's called western pseudo-buddhism. Don't tell me you thought that western buddhists were actual buddhists? It's just a, manipulated, permissive philosophy that they use to justify their ignorance and detachment from any issues in the world
I am able to conjure words with meaning but they seldom expand past 400 words. I've been looking at other short stories and they are all past 1,000 words. My problem is not that I am fatigued from prowess but that I am baffled at the expansion. How can one write more when less is appropriate. I seek your guidance now /lit/.
>>7474611 Vacuity binds those who are blinded by sight. To ponder upon how without the thought of how else is to be stubborn towards everything. Stricken by ignorance is nothing more than a dislocation of a severed limb. What’s left of nothing is immeasurable for it is nothing. Even a specter that dwells within a dark cave knows not of the dark cave; to it, the surrounding is just a surrounding, assuming it can gather that much. A cluster of light speckled by a string only to unravel without a spectator is to never unravel.... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
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