The I is active. My mind is ablaze with ideas. I can’t control them, but the I can. That’s the problem, and that’s the solution. I figure I figure too much to figure it out, so I’ll let the I do it for me.
I must share, but beware. If you think too much about it, they’ll find you, and be one step closer to achieving their goal. The host will become the rotting skin of its emaciator.
I’m being fed. The I is telling me what to write:
Freelance paranormal mercenaries
Captive mutant feline surrogates
Terraforming through thought conductors
A-frame of the Mind
The Pagos Nefos
Vinco and Fours
Nooctails and Daemit
Quantum entanglement and teleportation
Hand formed cowboy hats
Visions both disgusting and oddly arousing
The Chalyvas Maul
Justice and Judgement
Halteres and Earth
Cabin parties and mosh pits with aliens and mutant cats
Alright, gotta get ready for work. Until next time, stay frosty, I’m brain-barfing a book.
Kirk E. Hammond loves science fiction, cats, baseball, and words like emulsified, rapscallion, and nincompoop.
Growing up in the ‘80s, he was scarred by badass sci fi movies; Re-Animator, The Evil Dead, The Thing, Robocop, Aliens, Mad Max2: The Road Warrior, and The Return of the Living Dead, just to name a few. The more gore and camp, the better.
Authors he wishes he could hold a candle to include David Wong (Jason Pargin), Chuck Palahniuk, Chuck Wendig, Frank Herbert, H.P. Lovecraft, Philip K. Dick, Christopher Moore, and J.R.R. Tolkien. He likes to think what he writes is funny, but I’d put his ability to write comedy right down there with Ayn Rand and Christopher Nolan.
He’s a naughty boy who needs to be punished. Every twelve years, he changes careers; from biotech dish-pig, to high school science tyrant, to creator, publisher, and purveyor of lies. The main reason he writes is to give his friends (all imaginary) something to do.
And his writing has no deeper meaning. It’s just action, and gore, and drugs, and magnificent scenery, and witty, snarky banter. In fact, he told me, “There’s nothing more depressing than a moral.”
He was born, raised, and lives in Colorado. He does not ski and smokes pot for research purposes only.
The universe planted many ideas in my mind. I pass them off as my own, but know they're stolen. My ideas gain traction, grow, and consume me. I become my ideas. The universe implants the idea of me in my brain. I am stolen.