Cindel: Don’t you have a star cruiser?

Wicket: Bitch, if I had a star cruiser you think I’d still be on a goddamn forest moon? Fugg that, I’d be getting my drank on in a Coruscant suite.*

*Translation provided by P. Krueger

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

I watched the moon bleed out.

[photo]

At a certain hour I become wistful. When this occurs, I turn to that which inspires me, helps me believe that wonder and beauty and triumph still exist.

I present my muse of the evening: Paul Gilbert

If you enjoy the sound of electric guitar, I think you’ll find his work breathtaking.

And if you think John Mayer’s the greatest living guitarist, prepare to have your belief challenged.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Night gives love and steals lives.

[photo]

[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Floating somewhere past Neptune, I decided to start reading. I had a fresh stack of Picto-Literature, given to me by my lover the day before departure. She knew that I had a soft spot for the paneled page, tales of hyperbole accompanied by a glut of exposition. Such insights into my interests were why I had accepted her as my lover in the first place.

I joke. The fact that such a babe would receive a Thought-Scientist, especially one as scrappy as myself, is a damn miracle. And these days, I’m no longer a disbeliever of miracles.

Rummaging through the cartoon-books, I was impressed by the titles at hand. My lover had collected some of the most critically acclaimed titles, the classics I grew up reading as a young lad. Grant Morrison’s Batman and Robin. iZombie by Roberson and Allred. A rerelease of Casanova, the groundbreaking title by Fraction/Ba/Moon. Ah, such wondrous creations were crafted before the Collapse!

Staring out the bay window, I knew that I should feel some sort of immense gratitude. For the splendor of the universe. And the opportunity to explore it. But with a handful of pulp – yellowed, slightly battered paper narratives — I couldn’t maintain the gaze.

What’s more impressive — the constantly unfurling, eternal and infinite nature or the ability of small, squishy flesh creatures to represent it?

Sifting through the works, I found the first issue of Scarlet! What a gem! Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev, the writer-artist duo known for reinvigorating Marvel’s Matthew Murdock (known at the time as Daredevil) had come together for this creator-owned property. Truthfully, I had never read it before. Hell, this made the fact that I was shipping out to a six-month work assignment a bit more bearable.

Before reading, I flipped through the pages to admire the artwork. I know, I know, according to the comix guides of the Aughts, this is a big no-no. But I like to give myself a sneak preview, titillating myself in the same way as experienced through a movie trailer. But this time I found myself slowing down, breathing in as much of every page as possible, words aside.

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[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Day Eight; He regretted previous seven.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Fine cuisine spewed from his mouth.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Before leaving, she shot my dog.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

The sword is easier to use.

[photo]

I’ll tell you the problem with the scientific power that you’re using here: it didn’t require any discipline to attain it. You read what others had done and you took the next step. You didn’t earn the knowledge for yourselves, so you don’t take any responsibility… for it. You stood on the shoulders of geniuses to accomplish something as fast as you could and before you even knew what you had you patented it and packaged it and slapped it on a plastic lunchbox, and now — you’re selling it — you want to sell it!