The Consciousness of Sleep and the Universal Round

October 11, 2014 § Leave a comment

Dear IT Guy From India,

I feel that cosmically, forces deep from the universe flow through my soul, and that each evening, when I sleep, the darkness I experience is only that from which I come, and to which I will ultimately return.

I don’t fear the darkness, because in it, I find a warmth and love that makes me know that it is not my enemy, but rather, a friend. Proof of this, to me at least, is that the darkness of my sleep is split with dream, of which I can take to believe as reality as any waking moment. What is waking consciousness after all, but sensory perceptions of a world that I cannot prove exists other than my mind perceives all things I experience. Is that not the same as dream in sleep?

Coming Awake in Des Moines


Dear Coming Awake in Des Moines,

You’ve got a lot of choices with an Apache server install, and depending on your distribution or installation choices, Apache may already be installed.

Setting it up on Linux varies from machine to machine, Red Hat, Debian, Caldera, or Mandrake, among others have different ways to fine tune the install, but in the end they all work the same.

When I configure Apache, I like to keep all the binaries and associated files in one directory, typically /usr/local/apache and I’ll set up a content directory like /home/httpd/html. Here is where I’ll put all the CGI scripts and programs.

What’s nice about this setup is that if you end up with multiple “virtual hosts” running, you get an easy handle to manage it all. In a lot of distributions out there Apache is already set to go out of the box. You just start the server and populate it with content. But sometimes you have to play with the config file.

Apache is really a simple operating system to get up and running, unless you have to compile your server, which is beyond the scope here. But if it is installed already, great, you’re almost there!

Hope that helps.

On Writers and Writing

October 10, 2014 § Leave a comment

Go carefully into these dark woods

Because when power comes to subjugate people,

They go for the writers first.

They will hunt them down and kill them

Not because they are the mightiest

But because they stand for the truth

Sittin and Thinkin, and Drinkin.

June 18, 2012 § Leave a comment

William Clayton broke into Giliad’s apartment today.


He’s scopin’ the place out just to make sure his keys work. Killing is on his mind, but just how is the question.

June 11, 2012 § Leave a comment

Originally posted on NewsFeed:

Worried about recent bouts of rampant cannibalism? Fearing an onslaught of the undead? Well, fear not: you can now prepare for Zombiegeddon with a new line of specially engineered zombie bullets — while supplies last.

Hornady Manufacturing Company, a Nebraska-based ammunition maker, is promoting its line of Z-Max zombie bullets as “specifically designed to vaporize zombie varmints.” Since killing zombies, as everyone knows, requires taking out the brain,  the Z-Max line boasts “Ultra-flat trajectories [that] send mangy menaces to the varmint graveyard.” These bullets are built, as Hornady’s website puts it,  to “make dead permanent.”

(PHOTOS: Pop Culture Zombies)

But before you rush out to fill your survival bunker with special anti-zombie ammunition, please note that the product’s more of a gimmick than anything else. The Observer reportsthat the bullets are mostly a product of company owner Steve Hornady’s affection for zombie flicks, plus a dash…

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June 11, 2012 § Leave a comment

Originally posted on Gem State Writers:

Showing emotion can be one of the hardest things for new writers. Most spend hours learning body language and the physical reactions emotions stir.

Fist-clenching. Teeth grinding. Lip-curling. We know them all. We have the list.

The problem is that these standard expressions get old quickly. If your antagonist sneers more than once in a book, he looks like a cartoon villain. My agent calls this “grimacing” and she wants it out of my writing.

Fine. Agreed. But what can we put in its place? Dialogue can’t carry all the emotion. Sometimes the strongest feelings are the ones we can’t put into words.

There has to be a way to physically show emotion without falling back on these old clichés.

I have always struggled with this, but recently I remembered a scene from my childhood which illustrated exactly what I need to do as a writer.

When I was growing…

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Death and Taxes

April 12, 2012 § Leave a comment

Doug Becker walked into his son’s bedroom and took the rolling chair next to Sammy sitting at his desk.

“Got them girls figured out yet Sam?” He asked.


November 11, 2011 § 2 Comments

Rusty and beat up, like a dessert mesa, the building rose. Lonely among the red sands sitting silently centered in a patch of blacktop, hot and stinking of oily asphalt fumes.

“What time he supposed to show up”

“Said Three o’clock”

“Well it’s goddam half past three o’clock now, he’s fucking late”

“Shut up”

“What d’ya mean shut up, the guy was supposed to be here half an hour ago, you shut up. I’m sick of this stink. Maybe he changed his mind.”


“What we going to do if he don’t show.”

“We’ll do it ourselves.”

“You’re nuts, we ain’t never done something like this ourselves.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, you ain’t scared of it are you?”

“Fuck no, I ain’t scared of shit.”


Waves of heat rose from the blacktop, shimmering mirages beyond the car’s hood, then, a stretch of baked concrete leading to a door.

“Le’me see the gun.”

He reached under the seat, feeling the upholstery brush his hands as he felt along the carpet, finally, feeling the grip, he pulled at it. It got caught in some wiring and spring work.

“Shit, this things gonna go off, blow my balls off in the process. Damn thing’s stuck.”

“Don’t blow your balls off, just get the gun out.”

He got it loose and tossed the gun on the seat next to him.

“There ya go, there it is. Now what, we gonna go or we gonna wait. We ain’t never done anything like this ourselves before.”

“Nothing to it.”

“Nothing to it my ass, we ain’t never done this ourselves before.”

“We just walk in like we own the place, walk down the hall, open the door and shoot the bastard. Simple.”

“Simple eh? You been inside? You know the layout? You know where to go?”

“Shut up.”

“Fuck you, you shut up. I say if this guy doesn’t show in the next minute we get out of here. We stick out like a sore thumb, there ain’t no other cars around us, people gonna wonder what the fuck two guys are doing sittin in a car in a goddamn half empty parking lot on such a hot fucking day. This stinks.”

Five minutes passed.

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah, let’s go, it’s about time.”

He opened the car door, stepped into the heat clutching the gun and shoving it into his pants.

“I thought you meant let’s get out of here!”

“No, we’re going to do this thing. C’mon.”

The door handle burned the second his hand touched it. Yanking, quickly, the door fell open and a wash of cool air flooded across his sweated body filling it with sudden chill.


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