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Green Sunday Chapter 15 ‘Strange Eyes’ (Raw)

Finally back in black on facebook, spent all morning trolling people about Trump and getting in various pointless internet arguments to spark the old brain furnace going. I know it’s pointless but it sort of just gets me going, it stokes the coals, gives me a rush, really gets me in the mood to tear some shit up in a literary sense. If it doesn’t consume my whole fucking day. I always like to think that the mind is like a razor and you need to take it out and cut now and then so you can remember how to use it and keep it nice and sharp. Or if you like some ancient samurai quote about swords getting rusty or covered in blood and sticking I can’t be bothered to google ha. Even better highlander two; “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if you don’t take it out and use it, it’s going to rust”. Which now I’m recalling it probably also is about swords since it’s highlander but for some reason has always sounded like it was about dicks. Guess that says more about me than the film. GOTZ D DIKS ON D BRIANZ OOOOOHHH!!!1111

My audience (all three of you, and that’s being generous) will be happy to know as of some time in the middle of the day yesterday or was it the day before? I completed Green Sunday, my steaming pile of something close to zombie satire. Kaloo kalay, I hear you say.
Yeah well still in editing hell despite being completed, here’s the following chapter, I’m gonna keep editing it on the same schedule, no reason to rush that stuff just because it’s completed. Instead I’m gonna keep editing it gradually and move onto writing something else in the mean time to keep me sharp and sane. I’ll decide later today if I want to plan for nanowrimo or just do a short to bump up traffic on my inkitt page and show people I can write more than zombexploitation. Maybe something dramatic, a period piece. I am fucking with you. It’ll be in the same vein, maybe something a little more serious, a little more pulpy or surreal. Gonna start hashing it out after I finish writing this crap.
Ok well long story short, this is the first portion of the next chapter where some crazy shit happens, some resident evil maybe some weeb action who knows?

As usual you can check out the full chapter on inkitt until I find something better. I think inkitt is ok but I might change it to goodreads if I go the self publisher route just because the review system on inkitt lends itself to nepotism. But who am I to complain with my five star rating haha?

GS Chapter 15 ‘Strange Eyes’

~

The brief silence ripped apart like a laminated piece of paper. A red beetle door with garish orange flames spray painted on it flew across the garage. Spinning like a coin flipped by a king kong size index finger and thumb. It hit the wall of the shop pancaking the fat bike. Embedding itself in the concrete and sheet metal load bearing wall.

The fat biker was eviscerated by the force of the door and his body hitting the wall. He looked like he’d fallen from space. His body was only recognizable by garish near human shaped body parts. Hands, feet, an eyeball, a tongue. A limb with bone shrapnel perforating the skin from as many places as seemed humanly possibly. His bodies wet carcass popped like a waterballoon full of dark red jello. Sticking in some places, plastered to the wall. Heavier matter slopping on the floor making a cringe inducing wet slapping noise.

He looked inside out. Grown men who watched people beat eachother to death and fed people to half dead freaks threw up raw hotdogs on the concrete floor.

Mojang shook as he clutched the grenade launcher in his large hands.

The bikers watched without sound as a puckish boy hopped off the rim of the pod. His body size and shape gave him away to be an age range that could have been anywhere between sixteen and twenty. He had a slim strong frame, coming to a short height of only around five foot four.

He scanned around the room. His face wasn’t visible for a carbon fibre helmet covering most of his head. Making him looking something between a paladin from WOW and a power ranger. His body was covered in a skin tight compression suit covered in individual plates of a space age metal. The plates moved and breathed with his body like the scales of a dragon.

A slit in his visor gave way to a penetrating stare and a strange set of blue green eyes. One eye was blue, the other was green.

The boy looked around the room like the terminator, but his eyes had a feint smile to them. As if he was in on the joke. His gaze nevertheless was cold and unfeeling with no unessecary movments. When he’d finished he flashed a cocky grin with his eyes and turned around. He hopped back onto the pod like Peter Pan, dislodging a strange chrome rod. The rod flaired out in the middle in both directions. Leading to two conical points on either end, measuring almost the length of the boys entire body.

Clutching it in the middle by what was now evidently a handle. He crossed his chessed with the strange chrome double ended lance and let out a cocky breathy laugh.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? This clown need to make you balloon animals? GREASE THIS MOTHERFUCKER!” Mojang stuttered wrestling with the volume of his voice as his whole frame shook from the base.

A symphony of gunfire erupted. Small arms fire popping and snapping in the small metal box building. Small machine gun fire, revolvers, pistols. A staccato ww2 bolt action rifles cracking like thunder intermittently. Between satisfying metallic clicking noises of bolts moving into place. The assault rifles slicing in whip like bursts of ecstatic crescendos. Bassy shotgun blasts punctuating the end of a phrase.

“I’m out”

“Me too”

The lancer punctured the cloud of dust and debree. And with one dismissive gesture it was dispersed. Revealing the lancer in his silvery scale armor. He looked untouched.

“What the fuck?”

“We missed?”

“I’ll stick this motherfucker!” An older man with long silvery hair and a black leather jacket covered in patches chimed in. He held a mosin nagant ww2 bolt action rifle. He’d so proudly procured it from a dead ww2 vets house. He could almost see nazi helmets popping off with each satisfying pull of the antique trigger. The fool charged the lancer, bayonet flashing in the air with martial furry.

The man came in at angle to the side of the Lancer, who didn’t even turn his head to the charging man. Despite his loud cries and determination to skewer the young knight.

The man lunged forward with the bayonet like a pike and stabbed at the lancer who didn’t move an inch. The instant the blade made contact with one of the many small plates coating the lancers body. A small sharp explosion like a party popper broke the supple body of the wooden gun stock. The gun shattered lit it had been struck by lighting and sent the bayonet bounding back. Firing like a piece of shrapnel up under his jaw and coming out the top of his head. Blood erupting out of the top of his head and mouth like a science fair volcano before he ragdolled to the ground.

The Lancer struck a pose and cast a cheeky grin with his strange eyes “I guess that means it’s my turn.” A tinny voice said over the rising dust and smoke.

~

Thanks again for checking it out (wait, did I even thank you a first time?) don’t forget to go to my inkitt page if you liked what you read and want to read more of that stuff.

GS Chapter 15 ‘Strange Eyes’

Cheers!

0

Dexter is Dead… again.

Ok been letting my blogging slip for a while because of this and that excuse, work, travel, romance, all that shit. But that’s all gone now, back to business as usual.
I recently finished the last of the Dexter series, if you don’t know already the blog is a play on the title of the first book ‘Darkly Dreaming Dexter’. And although the series isn’t what inspired me to become a writer myself it has influenced a lot of thematic choices I later came to love.
So needless to say I’m a big fan of the show and then I just got done reading all eight of the books and it’s fair to say I really liked them since I read them back to back, which is pretty is pretty rare for me. I think the last time I did that was when I first discovered pulp and read all the Philip Marlowe books by Raymond Chandler one if not THE godfather of literary pulp/noir, whatever you wanna call it. I personally think he beats the pants off of Dashiell Hammet although I love me some Sam Spade and I really enjoyed the first Parker novel I read by Richard Stark I think it was. I was actually thinking of filling the hole left by Dexter with some Parker.

Parker is like a more amoral version of Philip Marlowe I guess, like half way between Dexter and Sam Spade maybe. He’s just a straight up, hard edge career criminal. I was almost shocked when I read the hunter. There’s a scene where he kills this innocent woman by mistake and that wasn’t really the problem it was the way he just brushes it off, like ‘oops’ and I thought even Dexter would have had a moment of contemplation over that. And that’s why that character is really memorable, someone so focused on what they want that they burn everyone and anything in their way and feel nothing for them. A really powerful character I thought. It’s like you’re reading this like “Am I the baddie?”

Ok so I really enjoyed the Dexter series, I felt it flagged towards the end a little, like Lindsay was just in no mood to continue it so just ended it. I was a little disappointed by the prison sequence (Oh yeah spoilers Dexter goes to prison ha-ha), because I expected him to shank a fool or whatever but it was pretty boring monotonous, nothing really happens.

I liked the change of pace, overall I thought the books were weird because they became less about serial killing and more about Dexter’s life getting in the way of his serial killing but I guess that’s realistic and a great parralel for real life getting in the way of the things you love.
I’m not sure if this actually is the last book because the ending was very and obviously intentionally open ended. And the show also played around with an open ending although mercifully they thought better of that because that show really started to drag. Looking back having read the books I can see it was dragging its heels as soon as it left the starting block of the first season. They really really really shouldn’t have killed off the ice truck killer. He’s a pivotal character in the books, well sort of, but I think that was a mistake. They could have dragged out that familial conflict into later seasons allowing them to not have to rely on really over used tropes and shameless filler.

I liked the show for what it was, it was almost an expanded universe, exploring things around his dad and his mom, they took the books and ran with them and it was very entertaining. it got me through a lot of stressful shit at uni when the new Dexter ep came out. I could sit and watch it and talk to my friends about it

Anyway, enough of that bullshit, what I really wanted to talk about was that I really do feel like there’s a Dexter size hole in my life. So I was thinking of doing a fanfic of sorts, a continuation surrounding Dexter’s grown up daughter Lily-Anne. Essentially I want to get deep in the shit and explore some of the stuff I think Lindsay shied away from and fill in the blanks myself.

Because I think I mentioned in the past that the Dexter lore has some supernatural elements, he essentially #spoiler alert# squares off with a demon or old god or whatever in the third book and then after that it was just dropped like an old guy’s jock strap in the men’s locker room at the gym. I think it must have got panned or received a lot of criticism for taking what was essentially a mystery/crime thriller book into the Dan Brown illuminati/Alex Jones territory. And honestly I have nothing against that sort of shit. I really liked that book, it was such a jarring change of pace I was a little disappointed it wasn’t gone into in more detail or at the very least touched upon at least one more time. It was just sort of side-lined. Just like how in the books he’s promised to train the fledgling killer kids he’s raising. He never gets around to it, so I want my story take on that to be the result of his inaction.

I was thinking of having the ancient society from book three come back and hunt down Dexter’s progeny to harvest their dark passengers. Structure it the same way as the other books, have her as like a crime blogger who investigates murders and gets tangled up in this web of intrigue because of her innate morbid curiosity. Then out of nowhere the murders seem to be spelling out a message to her. I essentially want to make almost a copy of the first book, almost an ‘homage’ force awakens that bitch. That’s about all the spoilers I want to give away. I may turn this into like a fun side project of short novellas or full blown novels maybe if I can get in contact with Jeff Lindsay, I’ve exchanged a total of three words with him on twitter so I’m in like flin motherfucker ;).
I dunno it just seems like there’s so much that could have come from the Dexter mythos, it just feels unfinished, unloved, like Lindsay was just tired of that headspace, which I can totally understand. I think Dexter was a character I related to in a scary way and I was very invested in his struggles and I just think it didn’t end quite right. I mean I never expected him to live happily ever after, but why not? Yeah it’s fiction and bad guys always have to pay but do they? Do they in real life? Not really, so why should fiction have to conform to that standard?

I just thought it would be interesting to keep the series going with a woman at the helm, especially in this current political climate. I could see myself having a lot of fun with that. I’m not sure if I should do it for nanowrimo because I already had some lovecraftian thrillery type stuff lined up for that or maybe something odd and lynchian, completely surreal and off the wall. But we’ll see if I can come up with a synopsis in time. I might just start those other things as soon as I’ve released every chapter of gs.
Anyway my facebook ban should be lifted soon and I’ll be posting more shit on there and on twitter, I have to get my thumb out of my ass and reignite my social media platform, reanimate that sucker.

Peace out my african brothers and have a killer day ;).

 

0

“Safe spaces”

After what I think is maybe my fourth ban from facebook I think a rant is in order.
Recently I’ve had a lot of life piled on me keeping me away from all this wonderful stuff, not that I’m complaining. Most of it if look at my facebook feed is beautiful adventures with the most important person in my life. A bountiful expression of love for a person who’s filled my days with more rapturous happiness than I thought possible (She reads my blog fyi :P).
But some of it is my day job, dieting, excercise and arguing/trolling people on facebook who can’t seem to seperate their political views from their ever so precious feels and delicate sensisibilities. Mostly Bernie supporters, I have nothing really against Bernie, I just think his followers are a lot of insipid cultists who wallow in self pity and blame all their problems on ‘the man’. And like him don’t really understand economics and how his policies can’t really work in a capitalist system. So they try and downplay the socialism, but there’s really know way his policies could work without a socialist system. Which in america seems unfeasible.

I got for what is known on facebook as “Hate speech” which pretty much equates to any coloquial slur or shortening of a word. I said tranny the first time and I didn’t use it as a slur, just for what it is a shortening. But I get it’s un-pc for anyone but a tranny to say tranny. Then I guess I was on like a hate speech watch list and I don’t know if it was a bot or an especially vindictive facebook sjw. But it seemed like my entire feed was gone over with a fine tooth comb to weedle out the slightest hint of ‘wrongthink’.

I then was found guilty of using the colloquial insult of “faggot” I know what a crime, what a cishet oppressor I am for using a word that offends people. Well then I got banned again and again. I got banned for like one day then when I was reinstated they found something else to ban me for, this time three days. Then the same thing happened again, this time it was a week.
This time I made the mistake of commenting on some propaganda I saw on facebook and I quoted it. It was some anti-Trump propaganda where it accused him of saying racist slurs like “Beaner” and “Wetback” and “Anchor baby”. Well the last one isn’t a slur, it’s actually just a term.
All I said where “When did Trump say beaner?” Banned for thirty days. seriously?

Just quoting a video is hate speech now? I mean who are they protecting here? Do they honestly think they can stop racism/homophobia/etc just by stopping people saying the related words?
And even saying that I think back to the ban bossy campaign and it just sends me reeling when I think about the Orwellian idea of newspeak. If you don’t know ban bossy was a group of feminist morons including Facebook’s own Sheryle Sandberg who blamed women not getting ceo jobs on being called ‘Bossy’ as children. Which goes without saying is beyond asinine.
But, the idea of newspeak is to limit speech for the purposes of limiting thought. How can you speak out against something you disagree with if you don’t have the words to do it? Not that I think insults or racist slurs are good for the effort of changing things to fit the ideologies of a racist. What I don’t like is the idea of controlling speech for the purposes of controlling thought. Forcing some pc orthodoxy on everyone.
You can’t speak freely on facebook because you can’t know what will be listed as “Hate speech” next, so you just have to walk on eggshells and watch what you say on what is supposed to be a free and open social media site.
But even saying that now there are people who will read this and say something as retarded as “You’re only against pc culture cos you wanna be free to be racist”. To which I would respond “Yes, I do want to be free to be as racist as I want, which is not at all”.
I’ve literally seen this response, there was a video of right wingers saying pc culture makes them afraid to speak for fear of being called a racist. To which all the liberals responded by calling them racist proving their points perfectly.
Racism/sexism have no meaning in this generation, none at all they’re just thought ending cliche’s, words used to silence a person you don’t agree with. Like for instance… Trump.
I’d challenge anyone to link me to anything racist he’s said, any slur or generaliazation, you wont be able to find one. The label racist is only thrown at him because he’s against illegal immigration. When they call him racist, they’re trying to shut him up and make people afraid to support him. It’s standard form propaganda. And it’s the same with anyone that disagrees with this rampant pc culture. No disagreement is allowed, you’re either with them or against them.

I don’t really know what I’m trying to say which is standard for a rant I guess, just butthurt and need to bitch. I’m just sort of saddened by facebooks pandering and greed. First they limited free speech by charging people for reach, which is disgusting enough but now these Orwellian speech codes. I hope they tank, I hope a new site comes up and demolishes them because freedom speech is the only the cure for this.
Safe spaces and pc culture will only make us weaker and stupider as a species which only benefits invading aliens or maybe the illuminati or whatever haha.

0

Spyderco Delica review

This knife was a bit of a weird fascination for me since before it I wasn’t a huge fan of folding knives and I’d never even heard of Spyderco let lone would I ever be able to admire their unique beauty.
They’re odd looking knives but they’re so iconic and functional that you have to respect the craftmanship and utilitarian nature and the subtle curves of an effortlessly elegant knife such as a spyderco.
I became fixated on this knife in particular after I saw what was close enough to it in a punisher comic.

hdj3AyS.png

I really loved the idea of such a small nimble deadly little knife like that taking on someone with a machete. That sneaky way you can open it without looking using the spyder hole. Finding the edge alignment just right, waiting for the moment they’re close enough for you to launch one quick strike before they can even raise their knife. The serrated blade cutting evenly and quickly.
The knife is tiny, its probably the smallest folder I own since I collect just for show, so I like bigger flashier folders not so much utilitarian edcs. But something about it’s vicious utility and the idea of such a small knife being so deadly like a spider bite really intrigued me and I had to have one similiar.

The delica is the closest I could find, the blade may be a little rounder, the knife from the comic is more like a smaller version of the spyderco police which has that little top unsharpened swedge. But I never really liked the police and I wanted a three inch hide away type knife and there was something that irked me about having the word POLICE on the side of my knife, and I wasn’t really feeling the stainless steel handle scales.So the delica fit perfectly.

JQqP4eN.pngThe delica 4 is just under 3 inches of serrated cutting mini-samurai sword haha. Made with beautiful vg-10 all the way from seki city japan. The only knife I think I have from seki city so far.

Black frn handles, a tight back lock, and 4 way pocket clip. Its a really snug grip in the hand, weighs almost nothing. I’ve had this knife in my pocket and completely forgot it was there. It chokes up really nice and favors, due to the size, a forward filipino knife grip. That’s like a forward sabre grip with the thumb on the back of the knife. It has some really nice jimping so it stays perfectly still for cutting.

The blade itself is very strong and ridiculously sharp, the serrations are probably the sharpest serrations I’ve ever encountered, kicks coldsteels ass cold haha. Once you have the edle alignment right this little thing cuts like no other knife I’ve ever owned, it’s scary smooth cuts.

Overall I just love how small and compact it is and how much deadly power you can get from such a delicate knife. If you need it for household shit as an everyday carry I’d recommend it, it carves through cardboard and plastic like it’s possessed, it cuts anything. And I wouldn’t be that hard pressed to use it for defence if I was inclined. Not home defence, I’d probably go for the more traditional baseball bat, my personal favourite the cold steel brooklyn shorty. But if you were in a country that allowed legal carry of lock knives under 3 inches, I’d say take this.

Not if you’re fighting the punisher though, fuck that shit haha.RBRLwo2.png

0

Ghostbusters failer

Snappy title eh? Bet you can’t guess by that and the comic strip show I feel about this trailer.
It’s about the only thing about this rant that will be snappy, I’m chomping at the bit to keep this short and not devolve into gutteral grunting noises and end it by curling up into the fetal position crying and sucking my thumb. I really have to keep this controlled or I’m gonna write a manifesto and be accused of the dreaded MUH-SOGGY-KNEES!

Ok enough preamble, let’s get up in this bitch… err lady… err ladies… err gender nonspecific pronouns.
The first thing about this trailer and I watched it and I sort of let it just roll over my eyes not really letting it go in the first time I watched it. But subsequently I watched reaction video after reaction video and seriously I must have watched at least fifty different reaction videos on youtube. Just trying to make sure this was real and I hadn’t entered an alternate dimension of pure concentrated SUCK.
So I’m gonna be really anal and not talk about the trailer and instead talk about the reactions to the trailer haha. The first funny thing is almost every male reviewer and male’s are obviously the majority of people reviewing this trailer… COS SEXISM! No. But they almost always (I always get fucking side tracked) had to give the a little caveat before addressing the female cast.
*DISCLAIMER* I am not nor have I ever been a member of the communist party… err I mean I’m not a misogynist.

Obviouly not as melodramatic as that but not far off. And I think it speaks volumes about this PATRIARCHY we obviously live in when almost every man on the internet is so shit scared of being called a misogynist they have to prostrate themselves on the alter of feminism and beg forgiveness for the audacity of having a negative opinion about a movie with a holy vagina carier in it.
Ok mini rant ceased!
Just had to get that out of the way and of course there were women reviewers who tore it apart too so no one especially not sony can really claim like they’ve been trying that it’s neckbeard heman woman haters hammering the living fuck out of the dislike button.
Someone even said that even gods of egypt which tanked had a higher like to dislike ratio on it’s trailer, but the new Ghostbusters trailer almost has double the dislikes than likes. So either the world is just full of misogynists and women with ‘internalized misogyny’ or this trailer is a steaming pile of ectoplasm.
What’s wrong with the trailer you ask? What the fuck is right with it? I ask you.
It starts off with this stupid piano version of the old theme ripping off when jurassic world did it. Then it says ‘thirty years ago four scientists saved new york’ and people have rightly latched onto this as bullshit for two reasons.
Reason one; this movie has claimed to be a reboot but is now acknowledging the previous films as if it’s a direct canonical sequel to the other two. And I’ve had it under good sources that the returning cast are appearing as cameos that are completely unrelated to the characters they played in the first, they’re just random guys held at contractual gun point by sony to prance around and bring in more people to watch this mess.
Reason two; there were technically only two scientists, Egon and Ray, Winston was more or less a temp and Venkman was a quack paraspychologist, which is not science any more than crystal skulls are a diet plan.
So the trailer hasn’t even started and it’s poked a hole in it’s own colostomy bag.Then we’re introduced to a recreation of the library scene from the original but instead of this creepy vibe punctuated with sarcastic comedy, we get an instant jump scare gross out visual gag which Feig is known for. The ghost just does an excorcist and pukes all over Kristen Wiig and then a follow up joke is implied when she talks about how the gunk got in all her cracks, haha vaginas and bums, so funny.

But wait that’s only the start of the non jokes. There’s also a joke where Kristen Wiig and the always nauseating Mellissa Mcarthy say ‘let’s go’ at the same time and awkwardly apologise politely and this is a joke, it’s just fucking cringe central.

We’re introduced to the characters in such a cringe worthy way ‘oh what’s her face you’re the best at quantum whatever, oh Egon clone, you do stuff that’s relevent to the plot’ and more to that effect. Oh and the black chick has a car. And of course she is a total token, loud black character ‘Oh lordy, I’m so black and large and loud’. And for a movie sort of aimed at that social justice crowd, fuck the haters progressive bullshit thinly veiled cashgrab, it seemed like an odd choice to not make her a scientist too. Or atleast choose a black actor that isn’t written like a fucking minstrel. And the car is a herse, the original car was an old ambulance, so either they did that on purpose because they’re fucking retards or the people making this reboot didn’t know the ghostbusters car was an ambulance, either out come is bad, it’s all bad folks. It’s idiots all the way down.
The effects look ok, there’s too much cg, I much prefer phsysical effects, even now that freaks me out, puppets and shit man.
Then there’s a joke where one of them wears a wig and a hat, no seriously that’s a joke, that’s a joke in this film. Go look for yourself.
Then there’s some ghostbusting montage and bit of Chris Hemsworth actually making women want to see this movie as opposed to making them all collectively yawn. Then the last joke of the trailer is Mcarthy getting possessed by the ghost of purest cringe. This scene is almost painful to watch as the black ghostbuster Patti basically slaps the ghost jizz out of Mcarthy ripping off excorcist again with such gems as “The power of Patty compels you!”
I mean seriously, you know that movie is forty years old right? So the new generous your trying to appeal to only tangentially understand that that’s a joke at all, not that it is, it’s not funny. And it doesn’t become funnier when you say ‘That’s gonna leave a mark’ after as if stating facts is now humour. I mean fuck that isn’t even a joke but its so old and so tired.
All in all it’s terrible, between the cast and the writing and the feel and Melissa Mcarthy punching ghosts with proton knuckle dusters, to quote tumblr; I just can’t even.
Honestly it’s not even so much the cast, I have no idea who Leslie Jones is but she’s not funny going by the trailer and in the international trailer it’s even worse and they get upstaged by Hemsworth of all people.
The chick who plays the new Egon I have never heard of but she’s like the token hot one I guess but she didn’t seem to do much.
Melissa Mcarthy plays the same character in every movie, which can be summed up in four syllables; FATTY FALL DOWN!
She’s just a female Chris Farly and it was barely funny when he did it.
I actually like Kristen Wiig, I’ve seen her in some pretty funny stuff and she’s actually the only cast member I approve of. But the tone and the writing seems so silly and so jilted and inorganic I don’t see how it can be funny.
I can’t really say my big bugbear is with the cast, I honestly think this movie would still suck even if you had all the original cast including using hoodoo to bring back Harold Ramis, who is as we speak spinning so hard and fast in his grave he’s achieved total plutonic reversal without crossing the streams.
The tone and the feel and the direction is all wrong and I’ve seen a leaked synopsis of the script and it sounds fucking awful. It doesn’t feel like a ghostbusters movie and far be it for me to try and encapsulate what that is in the summation of this blog. But this movie just feels like a summer comedy, it’s like an snl skit that got out of hand and grew into a film like mould.

It’s just silly, the reason people loved the tone of the original gb is  because it was a film first and a comedy second. If you removed the humour it would still be an interesting film, the comedy is inconsequental, it’s just there, it’s just a result of the tone and natural chemistry between the cast and that’s why it works so well, it’s not forced its organic.
This movie seems to just be a vehicle for terrible jokes, like the story and everything else is just decoration, it’s bridesmaids wearing the skin of ghostbusters without the swearing.

I don’t really begrudge the cast for making it, from what I’ve heard they’ve mostly gone into hiding and the entire cast and crew was forced to sign a second nda to prevent leaks. And there have been no real marketing pushes I’ve seen except a carcher pressure wash ad I just saw with the ghostbusters logo, wow sony, really pushing the boat out.
You know it’s damage control, they know it’s going down like the titanic they’re just trying to save as much money as possibly now by limiting the marketing and telling people to shut up as well as deleting all the negative comments that aren’t also sexist and racist in order to make their detractors all half a million of them look like Donald Trump supporters haha *wink wink nod nod current events*.

Honestly I thought this movie was going to be ok, I mean I knew I was going to hate it because I hate everything, I’m probably the anti-christ or distantly related to Hitler. But I thought it would be ok, like it would be funny, because I hear nothing but benign things about Paul Feig and people seem to suck Mcarthy’s dick but people like Amy Schumer and I want to throw her under a thresher. Fuck can you imagine if they cast her and Sarah Silverman, see looking on the bright side, it could have been worse.

Now excuse me while I raid my cupboards for whiskey soaked coasters to suck.

 

1

First attempt at a pitch synopsis for Green Sunday

TJ is an underachieving tubby neckbeard in his early twenties still living with his mother in their suburban home in a rural Midwestern American mountain town, in which he’s convinced will be infested with zombie soon.

Unfortunately for him, the zombie apocalypse already came and went with more of a hiccup than a big bang. Happening in a small isolated town, it was quickly isolated and contained by the army and a government contractor which referred not to be named. But TJ still holds out hope that the apocalypse will get a sequel in his lifetime collecting various weapons and zombie paraphernalia with his meagre pocket money.

A chance meeting with an obnoxious green haired girl sets his suspicions into high gear as she seems to be the cusp of a series of strange visitors which begin to put the small mountain community on edge. Men in chemical suits block the bridges. Armed mercenaries line the woods making escape impossible. All lines of communication are cut off as the town is flooded with the living dead.

TJ unaware of the horror that has gripped his town goes down to the store for a quart of milk only to come face to face with the living dead completely caught off guard he faces his own death but is saved by the same green haired girl who had previously snubbed him. All his planning and fantasising had proved ineffectual coming face to face with the real thing completely out of the blue caused him to rethink his fascination with the living dead.

TJ rushes home to find that the fantasy he’d imagined the zombie apocalypse to be falls completely short and he’s unwittingly stumbled onto a deep web reality tv show where real lives are on the line.

The green haired girl follows TJ, revealing that her name is Sunday, a survivor from the previous town that was, as he now realises intentionally infected for the purposes of this sick game.

The game takes place over three days and is fought for points, each day sectioned off into different rounds. The first day/round covers the initial outbreak, each zombie is designated points for kills, the second round is open season on survivors, combatant human’s become double points, the third round is the endgame, weapons and strange mutants are air dropped to wreak havoc on the remnants of the town. The audience paying to watch and take bets on the outcome, spectating through a series of drone cameras flying above the small town.

The aim of the game is to live, the winner with the most accumulated points wins, winning three consecutive games in a row wins the survivors freedom.

Sunday decides to take TJ under her wing and teach him what real apocalypse survival is about and actually help him to kill his first zombie, something he didn’t consider would be so hard after watching all those zombie movies where people decapitate them as easy as breathing.

Together they take on cheese grater wielding zombies, an insane biker gang and monsters right out of greek mythology to fulfil their modest goal of staying alive nothing more.

TJ learns that the way he saw himself up to this point was a lie and he stands on a precipice of whether to shatter that lie or embrace it and become it, take the girl and say to hell with reality.

He’s taken through the ringer as his life as he knew it is completely eviscerated and everyone he knew and loved is killed, his childhood home decimated, all bringing him closer to this strange girl and learning her boundless secrets and the mystery behind the sick game they find themselves trapped.

He has no choice but to fight and entertain the audience to secure his position as a returning character on the show. Using his hours of imaginary training in his back garden with his cheap novelty swords, he squares off against the living dead in a vain attempt at uncovering the mysterious group behind the annihilation of his once peaceful town.

Having survived the three days thanks to Sunday, TJ and Sunday seeing an opportunity to escape in the chaos of the endgame, seek out a series of tunnels in a missile silo some conspiracy nut turned into a survalist bunker. Coming face to face with the man that brought them here Mr. Evergreen.

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Green Sunday Chapter 12 ‘Live through death’ (Raw)

Been critically retarded in the classical french usage of the word ‘to be held back’ by intense insanity workouts. I’m not in pain, I just feel like I’m dying, like I slipped into a coma and I’m trapped in a nightmare world of tiredness coffee cannot cure. Into the second month and my pudge be quelled, those lovehandles taking a pounding like an inflatable in Michael Barrymore’s pool.
 Been banned from facebook for excercising my freedom of speech a little too much so my social media presence is that of a nat at this moment but I dunno, fuck facebook, if only twitter didn’t look like the fast scrawling matrix code I’d make a full transition. But with their new speech codes I really don’t know where freedom of speech can hide on the internet anymore, soon we’ll have to go underground to be total assholes without repentance haha.
Anyway, still I find the strength the write and somehow to edit and proofread. So here is the first proofread of chapter 12, this is where the feels start people haha. Some action, some laughing some crying, some awkward boners, all that good stuff.
Actually working towards the end now, getting to the real shit soon, should be all done and ready for proofreading by the end of next month, maybe later. So it’s all speed ahead to nanowrimo and maybe a novela in between now and november.

As always this is just an excerpt, I put the whole thing up on inkitt so you can read all the chapters in order from start to finish without having to trawl through this inane collection of ramblings and brainfarts I call a blog.

Read it here for free, all of it, no catches, no scams or add revenue, I don’t think, well be happy in the knowledge if there is, the money isn’t going to me, so add block that shit hard haha.

Chapter 12 Live through death

~

Candle light flickered on the counter top in TJ’s kitchen. A weary flame tossed back and forth by a careless breath or a sigh. TJ, his mother and Sunday huddled around the small kitchen table and ate in silence.  A restrained rattling of cutlery hid polite coughs and awkward glances across the table. No one dared utter a word.

TJ’s mom just smiled at whomever would cast an eye her way, but it was a little cracked on one side.

They finished a humble meal of just some frozen pork chops and a garden salad from a re-sealable pack. Which his mother put back in the crisper at the bottom of the fridge. She cleared their plates “Mom let me help you”.

“It’s fine, you two wash up and get to bed. I set you two up on the couch until we can get your room tidied up” She sighed “It’s such a mess, you said an animal got in?”

“Yeah” TJ said as his hands slipped from the plates. he turned his head away and felt a cold steel ringing in the emptiness that was growing inside him.

She smiled as she took the plates to the dishwasher and loaded them in “It’s ok. I didn’t like any of those posters anyway, we can get it cleaned up in no time.” A weak laugh tried to escape her diaphragm but it didn’t quite make it and instead came out like pained hiccup.

TJ sat back down and looked at Sunday anxiously. She sat with her feet up on her seat poking at a very dry piece of lettuce trying not to be noticed. “I’m done.” She said as she pushed the table away and hopped off the seat. She swam through the tension in the little kitchen and escaped to the cosy solitude of the living room.

TJ bit his bottom lip and swallowed a dry lump, his chest feeling tight and hot.

“Goodnight” He said as he got up from the table and walked away. His footsteps light, barely made contact with the floor. The image of his mother at the kitchen sink got smaller and smaller as he left the room. That image of her burning into his memory.

~

“It’s almost time.” Evergreen sighed as he felt a strange elation washing over him. He kept it to himself inside his stoney exterior. “What do we have in stock?” He said through gritted teeth. A closeted eagerness eaked out in his voice as he leant against a high back chair in the operations van.

“Err a couple of chimeras, one of those big bastards and that new one.” The tech said as he handed Evergreen a small tablet computer over his shoulder.

Evergreen took it from the tech. He seemed to be getting a contact high of Evergreen’s steely excitement. He sat in his chair craning his neck to watch. Evergreen smiled flipping through the pictures on the tablet as it lit up his dark sharklike face. The mobile command centre was kept dark. Only lit by a series of monitors monitoring god knows what. Which covered the inside of what looked like a large tanker truck from the outside.

Noticing the attention he was getting from this eager little welp. He cast  disparaging eye towards the tech. He was a younger guy maybe late twenties early thirties with shaggy blonde. A set of boxy glasses perched on a sharp nose. His name tag said his name was ‘Murray’. tossing the tablet in his lap. “Fuck it ‘Murray’, use’em all”.

Murray feeling a little exposed. Tilted his eyes down clearing his throat and adjusted his glasses and got back to work. “Yes sir, t-minus two hours to full release of specimens”.

~

Thanks for reading to check out the rest of this long ass chapter go to;

 

 

Chapter 12 Live through death

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Green Sunday review by Knicky Laurel

Got a lovely new review for Green Sunday from someone I’m totally not sleeping with, faerie author of delightfully whimsical fiction, Knicky Laurel. You can check her out at her fancy author page on facebook Knicky Laurel, and you can read Green Sunday for free on inkitt Green Sunday.

 

Something Special
I recently finished reading the first eight chapters of Ryk Brink’s Green Sunday, and one of the first of many things to hook me hard was his writing style. It’s metaphoric and pointed laser focus deeply analyses the story’s subject matter, and its razor-edge imagery is hauntingly precise – in other words, the unique way in which he describes the story as he tells it leaves you unable to unsee it that exact way, and you can’t help but agree with his word choice and direction. And I think that is the impression I came away with the most – Ryk is a director, but of words rather than movies, and while every directorial style isn’t to everyone’s taste, his just happens to be one I favour.

I think this style is deliciously juxtaposed with the irreverent, open wound that is Ryk’s sense of humour and is what gives this particular zom-pocalyse novel such a refreshing feel. From the mean-spirited manner in which it depicts our proxy, TJ Kincaid, to the lovesick relationship it clearly has with nonchalant but gratuitous violence, it is apparent that this work is not for the overly-sensitive reader. That said, if you have the balls to stomach it, it is a story that has many elements anyone with an open mind for a different kind of story can appreciate, including some very real human moments, as dark and serious and quiet as they are by turn light-hearted, playful and a little silly.

My favourite aspect of this novel, and it would seem that I am not alone in this, is the relationship between TJ and Sunday. There is something so appealing about the ebb and flow between her hardness and his innocence, and the nuances of the role reversal featuring her as the protector with him as the virgin sacrifice or the atypical dude-in-distress. The space between them is filled with the overtone of the entire work, the loud cheesy camaraderie with death TJ has in his imagination versus the one that permeates the very bleak, sordid reality that Sunday herself occupies.

All in all, there is so much to enjoy here – the style, the voice, the themes and how they all work to tell a story about characters you can really care about. You know the elements that comprise a work are promising when you find yourself reading ahead simply because you cannot take the tension of what you are presently reading in the moment any longer. I found myself doing this consistently throughout my read, which tells me everything I need to know. That no matter how, gruesome, silly and depraved it may seem on the surface, there is definitely something special about Green Sunday.
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Stumped by the Trump (Or why Bernie leaves me floppy as a windows 95 disk)

It’s been a while since I did something off the cuff, so I thought why not do some obvious clickbait haha.

As an Englishman it’s fair to say I couldn’t give a flying faggot who america elects as its chief whipping boy, but I have opinions, you all know this and I have a blog, as you can see. So in the word of my ancestors “Tallyho!”.

Ok first things first I like Trump, ok well like is a strong word, he’s the only presidential candidate that makes me not want to swallow my tongue. He’s a douche canoe, but he’s an entertaining douchcanoe, he’s funny, he doesn’t take himself too seriously and he says whatever he wants. He pisses off feminists and sjw and radical commie lefties and if that’s not reason enough to vote for him, I don’t know what is.
I’d vote for Ghengkis Khan if it meant triggering some politically correct mouthbreather. And if they all move to canada or cuba if they’re more socialist inclined then that sounds ok to me haha.
I’ve had a lot of fun arguing with people complaining about Trump, mainly Bernie supporters because they’re so fun to troll. I haven’t come in contact with any Trump supporters who weren’t in fact trolls haha. People calling him racist/sexist whatever, that’s pretty much what the left does when they’re afraid of a right wing candidate. Just call him names trying to make them stick, it doesn’t have to be true, it just has to stick and it has in their circles but that’s preaching to the choir. Trump himself seems to be teflon coat, he just doesn’t seem to give a shit, he just says words and people seem to like that haha.
So bottomline has Trump said anything racist?
Most of the time when people call him racist it’s in regards to his sentiments about illegal immigrants and muslims. He wants to keep the immigrants and the muslims out, two groups that are not in fact races. Immigrants and muslims both can be any race, Trump himself is from an immigrant background as is the majority of america.
But people casually miss out one word ‘Illegal’ Trumps family and my family too were legal Immigrants. Illegal immigrants are breaking the law, it’s in the name, so they’re criminals. Trump is essentially saying he wants to keep criminals out of america, which as political policies go is fairly unremarkable.

The muslim issue is murkier but I like to use the feminist argument about men, wherein say you have a bag full of M&Ms and you know around 10% or even just 1% are poisonous and will kill you, how many handfuls do you take? The answer is none. That’s the problem with islamic migration, it’s not a race, it’s an ideology, not of peace but of conquest. They don’t want to become part of western society, they want to dominate it and erode it and replace it with a 14th century folklore.

Is he sexist? Well who isn’t these days, a man farts in an elevator and he’s sexist now, so who the hell can make a judgement on that?

The amount of propaganda flying around my facebook page is just astonishing. The most insipid I have to say is for Bernie, coming from someone who is impartial, I have no dog in the fight. The only reason I want Trump to win is for the hilarity of it and the butthurt of Bernie and Hillary supporters alike.

I just think Bernie supporters are one coolaid away from tattooing Bernie onto their… wait what? They already got Bernie tattooed on their asses? But he hasn’t even won the primaries yet, wow that is culty.

2_Bernie-Sanders-Tattoos.jpg
From the outside Bernie supporters do look like a cult, Hillary supporters, I don’t hear much from, the only one I know of is Gloria Steinem who is voting for her because they both have vaginas (Although Bernie did just say Gloria Steinem made him an honorary woman but now she says women who support Bernie only do it for attention) and Lena Dunham who also likes people who share the experience of having a vagina.

Despite that most people, the most cynical people think she’s going to win because Washington is corrupt and people are dumb and want to score social justice bingo points for having the first woman president regardless of what a lying sack of shit she is.
Bernie seems like an ok dude, a harmless old codger but do I think he can deliver on his promises? Do I think he can even remember the promises he’s made before the onset of alztheimers?
His promises are just too bold and they’re just that, promises. Newsflash politicians lie and this guy is a career politician. He seems like a sweet old man and he may be but that doesn’t mean he’s not just gonna say whatever shit gets him elected, it’s what they all do. He’s banking on the student and young people vote but we all know that doesn’t end well.
But his following is rabid, I saw a post the other day where he stopped a speech to check on some person in his entourage that fell over for some reason. All he did was go over to the guy and see if he was ok the caption on the I think it was either occupy democrats or usuncut one of those hyper liberal propaganda bullhorns. The caption on the video was one word ‘Hero’ for just going over and having a look, I mean I burst out in tears laughing. It’s just hilarious the amount of people who are sucking this guys dick and how hard they try to reach his balls going down on it. His following has to be the most annoying in living memory. And that’s not to say anything on his policies. They sound ok if a little naive. but that pretty much sums up his entire movement, people who think this old fart is going to rain skittles from the sky if he wins, replace all the drinking fountains with doctor pepper.

Ok back to Trump, why do I think he’s so popular?
He’s an ex reality tv star, need I say more? This is the age where reality and entertainment meshed almost indistinguishably. Is it any wonder America wants a living meme as a president? I mean what does a president even really do? Why does a democratic country need one leader when everything is decided by a committee defeating the purpose of one leader? They’re just a figure head, they’re a symbol, like batman, (Well maybe not in russia but that’s a different story) they do nothing more than represent America and who honestly, really represents America? Some old codger, Shillary of wallstreet or An ex reality star who just says the first insane thing that rolls out of his wacky head? A crazy billionaire twin of Boris Johnson looney toon who pisses everyone off and doesn’t give a fuck? I think of America and Trump is the first thing I think of haha.

Either way this election is going to be hilarious, if Bernie wins all his supporters are happy for about a year before they turn on him like they did Obama when he didn’t close gitmo. If Hillary wins that should be pretty funny, she’ll probably change the washing monument to a lifesize model of her 50ft cunt. Anf If Trump wins that could be the funniest thing to happen to the earth haha.

 

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