The Dark Knight Rises - Review

I'm struggling with writing my review of the movie "The Dark Knight Rises".  I liked the movie for the most part.  But it is nearly impossible to write a review about this movie without dipping into the heavy water of politics.

Perhaps next week I'll get it out, but at the time I'm vexed, very very vexed.

Flash Fiction #3 - From the Mirrorman Journal May 18

The main character I created for my Zombie stories is "The Mirrorman" a vigilante type character that is trying to save humanity for the ever increasing Zombie problem.  Here is a short piece taken from his own journal.  

Enjoy,
Robert


I fought with a thug last night. But he was different than all the rest. He was hunting me.

The night was busy. I jumped from one location to another breaking up crimes. Pimps beating their girls, punks robbing anyone they happened to come across. The gang wars - I didn’t get involved with, I figured it would be better if they got rid of on another. Then I came across the well dressed lady in a bad part of town. She looked like an executive from a fortune five hundred company, and she was being assaulted. The punk had slammed his meat fists into her face before I was able to get down to the street. And when I did, he turned to me and smiled a missing tooth grin, before he said “It’s about time you showed up.” I knew right then I had been set up, so I expected the blow that was coming my way, letting it hit me in the jaw I went with the punch and rolled out of the way far enough the punk couldn’t get another punch off without having to take a few steps in my direction. The lady was staggering to her feet with the help of the wall, her once pretty face was starting to puff up from the beating, but she was still an unknown piece of the puzzle, and questioned her reasons for being here in the first place.

The punk was just about on me, he was big, very big, and slow. I fainted left, then dove right and swept his feet out from under him. He fell on his back with a loud thud. I straddled him, and grabbed his collar with my left hand and started beating his face like it was a whack-a-mole at an arcade. Something caught my ear, and I stopped beating the punk. He was laughing. I shook him, till his eyes opened and I gazed into his soul. He laughed even harder, “that won’t work with me, I don’t have a soul to reflect.” The punk knew my secret. I let him drop to the ground and walked toward the lady. She looked up at me with a crooked smile, and said, “My boss will be pleased, we learned more about you tonight.”

I walked up to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, “Who do you work for?” I said as I shook her furiously. She only laughed, when the sound of gun fire forced me to drop to the ground a second shot came on the heels of the first, followed by the dull plop of the bullet hitting flesh, I looked up to see the tiny hole in her forehead and blood spattered graffiti on the wall behind her. She rested against the wall for a second before her lifeless body slid to the ground.

The punk was starting to get up when another shot echoed in the night and he fell to the ground dead.

I dashed into a shadow and looked for any movement that might give away the shooter. Nothing broke the still of the night. I ran across the parking lot toward the place I thought the shots would have come from. Sirens wailed in the distance and I knew I only had a moment before the place would be crawling with cops. I clicked to the thermal vision on my goggles and scanned the area. In a planter box along the street I saw two faint heat signatures glowing, upon close inspection I could see it was where two casing had fallen onto the dirt and momentarily heated the ground. But only two casings - I heard three shots. One caused me to drop and then one each for the lady and punk. I focused and thought. The first shot had come from the left of where the last two shots came from. I ran in that direction and found an small area built like a park with trees, grass and bushes. I scanned the area but no heat signatures registered. Suddenly a blue glow caught my eye, something below ambient temperature. I went over to it, and there in the grass was the heat impression of a casing, except this impression was cold. I looked at the scale on the side of the display. Minus one hundred degrees, dry ice has a surface temperature of minus one hundred and nine. What was this?

Suddenly my nightly haunts, protecting the innocent from the criminals of this city had become something more. I knew now I was now a target, but a target of who?

I had rattled the criminal element enough that they finally sent someone to find out more about me. I was interested, the nights were becoming much more exciting.

I am the Mirrorman, I look where others fear to gaze.

Coast to Coast AM - Hit by negative article

I have been a fan and listener of Coast to Coast AM for several years now.  I have to admit that I came in during the George Noory regime and I'm partial to his way directing the course which C2C has gone and is going.  For me very little has changed the majority of the program is UFO's, aliens, ghosts, supernatural, conspiracies, myths, angels, demons, and many other outside the box topics (I still want more UFO's and aliens, but then I'm biased towards that).

Coast to Coast AM

So when a co-worker told me about an article that said C2C was following a recipe for failure I had to check it out.  If you would like to read the article in full you can check it out here.  Although I don't encourage it since the article is biased, for what reason I don't know Coast to Coast AM: Recipe for Failure.

The author of the article R.W. Sanders contends that C2C is venturing into the realm of politics far to heavily, at least for his tastes, and says that George Noory should steer clear of the topic.  He even goes so far as to encourage others to begin a letter writing campaign to Mr. Noory, encouraging him to stop the talk on politics.  I must disagree with Mr. Sanders on his premise that C2C is venturing too much into the realm of politics.  At times the topics of C2C drift into the realm of politics, but Mr. Noory and the other hosts are very adept at taking control of the situation and either stopping the discussion or turning it back to the topic at hand.  But to tell the hosts of C2C to stop talk on politics is unreasonable, it is going to come up, it is incredibly hot - politically - in our country at the present time, and you can hardly start off with good morning with out someone turning it into a political debate.

With that said, my own personal opinion is that R.W. Sanders heard something on C2C that he disagreed with, whether it came from a host, guest or caller I have no idea, but he has taken it upon himself to encourage George Noory to veer away from something he perceives as a big mistake.

Mr. Noory if you ever happen to read this, just keep doing what you're doing.  The format is great and I don't see any reason to change things.  And from reading the piece by R.W. Sanders it sounds like he stopped listening a long time ago.

Rest in Peace Neil Armstrong

The weekend of August 25-26, 2012 was one for the history books, a very personal and sad one, but ended with a seeing a good to great movie.

What was it that happened this past weekend that will be remembered in the history books.  Neil Armstrong,  the first man to set foot on the moon, passed away on August 25, 2012.

As a young boy in kindergarten and first grade I watched with anticipation and wonder as the United States put people on the moon.  At the time, I wanted to be an astronaut and nothing would stop me, it was a simple thing for a five year old to figure out.  Two people went to the moon, then two more and two more, and so on and so on and so on, and then on to mars, the moons of Saturn and Jupiter, and beyond.  Hundreds of people would be needed to go, of course they would need a large supply of astronauts ready to brave the dangers of space, and I was just such a person.  I knew it deep in my soul. 

And as I said, noting was going to stop me.  I just didn't realize that in a few short years, the Apollo program would end - no more missions to the moon , instead we started sending this big thing that looked more like a plane than a rocket ship up into space.  What kind of excitement did that generate - None.  So as I grew up the space exploration didn't it just languished in low Earth orbit.  And with time I let those dreams of being an astronaut go.

It is a sad day that we loose our pioneer to space, our true American hero.  On hearing of his passing I was immediately taken back to the playground, where me and my two friends, Jack and Billy, pretended we were astronauts going into space, we were Neil Armstrong.  Billy moved away and I lost touch with him, Jack graduated from the same high school as I and earned a slot at the Air Force Academy, but he didn't finish flight school, I've often wondered if he still kept those dreams of being an astronaut.  My self, I've held many different jobs, I did complete college after a fashion, but the closest I've come to space is writing science fiction stories.

Neil Armstrong left his mark on billions of people around the world.  Some more profound than others, but a mark, and inspiration nevertheless.  

The Best Damn Website Ever!

My friends and authors associated with an incredible series of books called Fightcard, have launched their own website Fightcard Books

This is a great site to visit for three reasons; You can find all the Fightcard titles in one place, get information on the contributing authors, and it is a dynamically simple site.  The graphics hit with an economy of power, like a boxer setting up for a knockout punch, and the set up is simple and easy to navigate, with the knockout coming after you purchase one of the stories.

The Fightcard books, is a series was created by Paul Bishop and  Mel Odom under the unifying ‘open’ pseudonym Jack Tunney, which is used by each of the contributing authors.  And  there are a lot of contributing authors, twelve so far.

Each Fight Card story is set in the1950s, and occurs throughout the world.  Boxing is at the heart of the story and usually ends with a big fight.  The stakes are always high for the characters, and it's the characters of these stories that make them fun, enjoyable and exciting to read.  The unifying theme is that the main character has a connection to St. Vincent's Asylum For Boys in Chicago (an orphanage) and Father Tim, the fighting priest, who teaches the 'sweet science' as a way to become a man. 

The boxing pulp noir of the 1930's has been resurrected in the Fightcard series.  Check out the site buy a title and you'll be hooked.

Future posts I will talk more about the individual titles and what is going on in the Fightcard series.  But as a teaser, come October I'll have my own episode in the Fightcard series for sale.

  

Conspiracy Theory #2

In all actuality this should be conspiracy theory #2 - 2,000 since it involves a whole lot of conspiracy's most of which revolve around assassinations; like the Kennedy assassinations, Martin Luther King, Marilyn Monroe and others. 

The book is "Dead Wrong", written by Richard Belzer and David Wayne.   

I just picked up the book and have only made a cursory look through.  But it appears to be very interesting, and as I read the book I will make updates from time to time.



What I would like to mention right off the bat, is that the relationship between the Kennedy's and Marilyn Monroe leads to some very interesting or fantastic possibilities.  Monroe had ties to the Mob, President Kennedy had ties to the Mob, but his brother the Attorney General was all about bringing and end to the Mob.  This and more is waiting in the book, but what I can't get out of my mind so far, is this.  It stands to reason that if you play with fire your bound to get burned, sorry for the cliche.  But it's true, if your messing with the wrong people, even if you're the president of the United States of America, bad things can happen to you.  

Yes I know what you're thinking, the JFK assassination conspiracy.  And you are right, but I'm become more convinced each day that Oswald was a patsy.

Flash Fiction #3 - Zombie World meet The Mirrorman

Here is another Flash Fiction piece set in the Zombie world I created. This is a brief introduction to the main character of the series. The Mirrorman, a self appointed vigilante, determined to stop the rising tide of zombies. But when the government handed over a large portion of Los Angeles to the Zombies as their own Homeland, his job became more difficult.

Fighting zombies and a Government bent on appeasing them. The Mirrorman may be humanities last hope.

NathanHawthorne slunk alongside the old factory wall. Trace amounts of the full moon made its way through the broken andweather worn windows, liming him in a strange glow.

Hiscontact should be along any moment. Hewas at the same place where they had met numerous times before, but he waslate. Looking at his watch he wasstartled by how late, over an hour.

Aracket of falling debris stole his concentration and sent him back in thedirection he had just come.

“Marty,”hissed Nathan in a quiet voice, “is that you?”

Noanswer.

“Marty,”Nathan called a little louder.

Noanswer.

“Marty,”the hauntingly low growl, wasn’t Nathan. It could belong only to one thing here in the zone. A zombie.

Nathan’sface lost its color, and he stood in horror, taking automatic steps in retreatfrom the voice.

Whenthe body burst through the door, and came to a stand still directly in front ofNathan, the face was unmistakable - Marty.

“Marty,”said Nathan, “they finally got to you.”

“Itis beautiful,” slurred Marty a dark red mucus hanging from a disjointed jaw.“We are all brothers and sisters.”

Nathanturned to run, the narrow alley between the buildings assaulted him as hecareened between them, frantic to escape.

Thefactory roof was illumined in the full moon glow, a landscape like melted wax,strangely smooth. Squatting on the roofedge was a man in a leather jacket, aviator hat, and strange goggles. The Mirrorman peered down into the canyon offactory walls as a lone human bolted between the buildings. A zombie hastily shambled along behind him,intent on its meal.

“Foolsentering the zone,” hissed the the Mirrorman, “for only one reason.”

Hestood crouched for a moment, his mind caught in a turmoil of indecision.

Thestrange watcher let out a heavy breath before vaulting off the roof, andsliding down a metal pipe like a tilted firefighter. Landing just behind thezombie, he leveled his steam pistol and let loose a slug that took off the headof the zombie.

Theescaping human stopped and turned to see the remains of Marty flopping on theconcrete like a fish out of water.

“Mirrorman,”said Nathan in quiet voice, fear shrouded eyes.

“Thezone isn’t a place for humans,” said the Mirrorman, as he approachedNathan. “What business do you have here?”

Nathanstammered and stuttered, trying to piece together a story he could tell theenigmatic vigilante.

“Theonly reason humans come to the zone are to hunt zombies or trade in Sol, youdon’t look to be a zombie hunter,” explained the Mirrorman.

Nathanstood speechless, standing mute in the presence on the man strong physically and with a will that dominated his crumbling countenance.

“Gohome and don’t come back to the zone.”

Nathanran the short distance to the escape path out of the zone, and with theMirrorman out he had little worries that zombies would be near.

TheMirrorman watched Nathan escape the zone easily. He couldn’t let his brother know he was theMirrorman, but he needed to make it clear he was involved in something thatcould kill him.

Conspiracy Theory #1

I said that when I started this blog I was going to focus on several things, and one of them was to be Conspiracies.

Well I'm six posts deep and have yet to wade into those murky waters, till now.

First off a bit of the ground rules, the conspiracy theories I talk about are mainly an avenue to stories, to fiction, to make believe.  If the conspiracy is true or not, it doesn't really matter to me, what I'm looking for is the story that could come out of it, or already has.   911 was an inside job is a really good conspiracy theory and it lends itself to more stories than I could come up with alone.  But it is also a hotly debated topic.  I'm not much interested in debate, unless you want to debate whether it would make a good story or not.

So what I've been thinking of lately is this.

We all know that every once in a while the stock market goes crazy with robo-trades and things happening before people can regain control of the situation.  The result the markets take a tumble before safeguards take effect.  This has been a fairly fertile ground for conspiracy theorist to wade in on, and it usually comes down to the Chinese testing are safeguards in prelude to an economic attack.  Interesting but by itself, its somewhat booring. Or is it.

Looking for thoughts on the topic.

Enjoy

Flash Fiction #2 - Iron Packed Glove

Here is another example of my writing.  As promised I'm putting out Flash Fiction, and this one is in the boxing arena, It is about a character of mine named Conall O'Quinn the fighting Grandfather of Mickey O'Quinn.  If you haven't checked out "The O'Quinn Fights" please do so.  Mickey O'Quinn is the main character of those stories, and he is an Mixed Martial Arts fighting Staff Sergeant in the Army.  Well Mickey has a background and the fighting started with his Grandfather Conall.  This is just a short piece, that takes place in the mid 1950's the music was good, the cars were classic, and the fights were fixed.

The punk hit me with a knuckle duster hidden in his glove, just as the bell sounded.

Somehow, I don’t know how, I managed to stumble to my corner of the ring.  I still can’t remember if the bell was going off in the ring, or my head, but either way it was the end of the round.

“Come on shake it off,” said Maddy though a hazy, muggy veil.

“Get your head in the fight,” shouted Maddy as he slapped my face and waved salts under my nose.

I was trying to explain to him the guy had hit me with a loaded glove, I was explaining everything perfectly, and then I realized my mouth wasn’t working.

A sudden whiff of the salts cleared my head like a wildfire going through a forest, it hurt and didn’t leave much in its wake.

I held Maddy’s hand as he come around for another slap.

“He got iron in his gloves,” I slurred through a swelling mouth.

“Why that son of a bitch,” chomped Maddy around the edges of the swabs he held in his mouth.  “I should’ve known it’d take more than a lucky punch to knock you for a loop like that, especially since he didn’t lay that left on your during the whole round.”

“Do you know the ref?” I asked hoping we could plead our case and getting him to check the slime balls gloves.

“Nahh, he’s one of Lima’s boys,” said Maddy. 

Anthony J. Lima, the only crime boss in San Francisco.  He’s never crossed me good-wise or bad, since my fight against Barry, and always treated me with respect, even with the friendly invitation to fight for him.  I always thought I kept my distance from him, and respectfully declined his invitations.  But you don’t know what to expect when your dealing with the likes of a crime boss.

“Is Lima in the crowd?” I asked.

Maddy scanned the crowd quickly,or time between rounds quickly flying away.

“Yea their he is,” said Maddy while jutting his jaw in the direction. “Three rows back.”

I turned my head in his direction an caught his eye just as he was looking in my direction.  He shot me an affable smile and gave me a confident thumbs up.  I wondered if he knew this fix was in or if he hand anything to do with it?

“What about this punk, “Shimmer” Glavenston?” I asked Maddy.  “Is he one of Limas’?”

“I don’t think so the guys out of Mobile,” said Maddy as he went to work on blotting some bloody cuts, and cooling me off.

The bell rang.

I stalked into the ring.

Shimmer, wore a rusty red colored mouthpiece for a smile. 

Arrogant in his stance, quick on his feet, his left hung low from the weight he carried.

I stepped in, using my face to block his right jabs, watching the left.

He started from down low with his left, he needed more strength than usual to get the glove going.

I kept my head in his sights.

His right dropped down quick to lend leverage to his heavily weighted left.

The iron packed glove was inches from my head, when I ducked and let his left slip over my head, and slammed his gut with a hard right before his left finished its arc.

Shimmer’s air came out in a gush.

I hit ‘im hard with a left handed uppercut that pushed his jaw up to his nose, and followed with a quick right cross to his already damaged jaw.

Shimmer’s body hit with a loud plop on the canvas.

The ref counted him out.

I started shouting he had iron in his gloves.

The ref looked toward Lima.

I saw the affable smile and an very slight nod before the ref started cutting the strings from Shimmer’s left glove.

I hope you enjoyed the story, drop me a note and let me know what you think.

Robert E. Howard - Sailor Steve Costigan Review

Here is a review I posted on another blog awhile ago, about one of my favorite authors Robert E. Howard, and his rascal of a sea dog boxer named Steve Costigan. The Sailor Steve Costigan yarns written by Howard over eighty years ago are fun easy reads. In a lot of cases be prepared for the attitudes of the time, in other words they are not politically correct. But don't let that discourage you from reading these stories, they are a part of our history, and by reading them we only better ourselves.

Written in first person and having the feel of someone telling a tall tale, this story gives an immediate insight into the mind of Sailor Steve Costigan. I enjoyed the story and the main reason for that is how Howard writes. He writes very simply and very formulaic, with great visuals and style. This story is a good example to follow for fight stories, which is; Set up, fight, and unraveling.

The biggest part of this story is the writing, and takes up several pages, but it doesn't get boring. Howard has a knack at telling the story of the fight using Costigan's voice, making believable, exciting, and truly feeling for the character. In addition Howard tells about the fight from someone who has been in the boxing ring, and actually taken the punches. A little bit of research into Robert E. Howard shows that he actually did train and boxed in and around the area of Cross Plains Texas.

It is interesting to note that at the time Howard was writing these stories, boxers were the superstar athletes of the day. And fight stories were very popular; in fact many of Howard's fight stories appeared in Fight magazine. However, the boxing world has not aged as well as these stories, boxers do not hold the status they did in Howard's day, and it is hard to find a current story based on boxing or on the more popular Ultimate Fighting competitions. What we do have are these stories that were written almost eighty years ago that are still fun and enjoyable to read. Take a chance and pick up one of the stories a kindle reader and you will probably start reading all of them.



Here come the spoilers so if you don't want to know what happens stop reading any further.

The story begins with Sailor Steve Costigan getting kicked off the Sea Girl by the Captain because he chooses not to put his dog off the boat. He ends up at a French bar and gets into a fight with, unknown to him, the heavyweight champion of the French Navy. The fight is long and goes on for several pages, Costigan is all but beat up and ready to fall down, but because he is so like the bull dog, and doesn’t know when he is defeated he keeps going back in again and again. Due to his amazing recuperative powers, and his hard headiness he defeats the Frenchman. At the end of the bout the Captain of the Sea Girl, as well as many of the crew see come up to Costigan delighted that he defeated the Frenchman. The Captian welcome him and Mike, his bull dog, back as part of the crew.

Zombie Pecking Order - Flash Fiction #1

I promised you all some Flash Fiction, and here it is. This is a short little piece about the zombie world I created. Presently I have a screenplay finished, and I'm working on some short stories. One day I hope to see thise in a graphic novel. That's a hint to you artists out there.


Los Angeles, huddled dark in the summer heat.

City lights long since gone - no electricity, no lights, no one human left to care.

The big loud engine rumbled to life in the muggy silence, with a lightning crack of thunder forcing its way into the quiet. Bright lights cut the darkness like a star let loose to burn a path through the thick black.

Along streets piled high with trash and ravaged by marauding zombies, the Dodge power wagon prowled.


 “The zombie crusher is on the move my lord,” slurred the shadowed voice.

“Don’t call it that,” came the quick response.

A pasty gray face moved out of the shadow, to be illumed by the stars, dark eyes with unusually black pupils starred in the distance as the vehicle motored along the road like a preying monster of death. Large, and lumbering it stalked like a hunting beast, slowly.

The two zombies that watched the rolling mass, sat shrouded behind a wall of dead and dying plants. The zombie lord his face intact all but an ear that was loss in the early zombie occupation. Mr. Ear, was his name, a name he took since he lost his, ears had become his favorite dish. The other was a shambling zombie that was quickly losing his grip on what little of humanity and thought was left to him. Soon he would be a beast, consumed with an unquenchable hunger, the nothing could sate or deter. At one point the poor victim of a zombies bite had hoped for the change into a lord, but that was not to be, still the former politician followed the zombie lord with absolute devotion - at least for a little longer.

 “I’m sorry my lord,” said the zombie, haltingly - looking from side to side searching for the proper words, “please forgive me.”

Mr. Ear looked at him, with a sinister twitch. His eyes unwittingly moved to look at the untouched ears of the zombie beside him. His lips pursed as the bought of jealousy caused his mouth to water - or maybe he was just hungry.

“Think nothing of it Barny,” said the lord a smile forming on his mouth, “perhaps we will make you a lord yet.”

The twitching zombie, Barry’s face broke into a huge smile. A tooth dropped from his mouth, his gums unable to keep it locked within it’s mouth. “Thank you my Lord. Thank you.”

“Just run down their and kill the mirrorman,” said Mr. Ear casually.

Barny looked from from Mr. Ear to the zombie crusher and back again. Facing the zombie crusher was certain death, but if he could kill the mirrorman, he would be a zombie lord, near immortal. The ravaging affects of being a zombie stopped. And the hunger - the hunger for flesh would be sated. Catered flesh by ones such as he, the mere zombies.

Barny shambled down the embankment toward the zombie crusher, and behemoth of metal and power. He had played sports in a long ago life, he had been a fast runner. The distance - a scant 100 meters shouldn’t take him too long. But his legs didn’t work as well as they used to. His arms didn’t pump as they once did. The frantic gasps of air, sounded like the horrible gurgling of someone drowning. The zombie crusher stopped. He was almost to the door, not only would he kill the mirrorman, but he would feast on his flesh. He would be a lord.

The mirrorman stuck his steam pistol out the window of the zombie crusher and casually shot the lumbering zombie that slowly approached him. The body twitched headlessly on the bloody asphalt. If they every decided to attack en masse he would be in trouble, but so far he was safe.

Noir - Boxing - At its best - Felony Fists (Fight Card)

It has taken me much too long to review this story, but I finally have some time and the technology hook up to write this much much too late review of Felony Fists (Fight Card).

First off, if you haven't already. Buy this story.



Got it? Good!

Now for the skinny on the story, straight out of the Amazon description.

Los Angeles 1954

Patrick “Felony” Flynn has been fighting all his life. Learning the “sweet science” from Father Tim the fighting priest at St. Vincent’s, the Chicago orphanage where Pat and his older brother Mickey were raised, Pat has battled his way around the world – first with the Navy and now with the Los Angeles Police Department.

Legendary LAPD chief William Parker is on a rampage to clean up both the department and the city. His elite crew of detectives known as The Hat Squad is his blunt instrument – dedicated, honest, and fearless. Promotion from patrol to detective is Pat’s goal, but he also yearns to be one of the elite.

The description of the story gives you a small taste of what's in store when you pick up the book for a trip into Americas' past both fictionally and historically. But what it leaves out is the hard hitting realism of the fight scenes and the tight fisted drama that moves this story from page to page.

I completely enjoyed this story. The writing was top notch, and the story was imaginative. The characters, particularly Patrick "Felony" Flynn, hit you with a combination right off the page.

Raise his arms as the champion of this bout, the author Paul Bishop writing as Jack Tunney sets a standard for the series that will be hard to better. I'm looking forward to reading more in the Fight Card series.

Mars Curiosity Rover

Call me a Geek, I had great expectations for this blog, set out my plan, focused all my energies towards writing profound blogs on timely topics.

And what is my first blog about? The Mars curiosity rover. I love science, and I've enjoyed watching all the photos coming down from the lander. I sat watching the TV, and listening to the radio for thet reports of whether the lander had made it or not.

So how did I celebrate? I brought a vinyl wall graphic.

A Fresh Start at Blogging

With the start of a new blog, many of the old blogs I started and failed to continue will be going away - but then does anything every really go away on the web?

What is in store for this blog?  

I'm glad I asked that question.  Here is the short answer.

I will be blogging about what every comes to mind, but I will put an emphasis on three things.

The first is my writing, what I'm writing, what I intend to be writing, and what is sparking my creativity at any given time; whether it's a book I'm reading or something I glanced at on the way home from work. 

The second thing I will be writing about are conspiracy theories.  I love conspiracy theories and why I love them, is that they are a breeding ground of great stories.  I also like to put conspiracy theories together based on world events, which ends up in the "what if?" category.  So look forward to hearing about conspiracy theories that are out in the ether as we speak, and a few no one has thought of yet.

The third emphasis of this blog will be book, story and film reviews.

As with anything on the blog be prepared for things to change, but this is the blog I will keep up and continue for some time to come.