IT WAS AS BEAUTIFUL, BREEZY, and otherwise uneventful a day as any in the Three Cities and Thousand Villages of the Uulian Commonwell, save for one particular: the long queues of people, in every settlement of any size, waiting their…
Author: Neal Ross Attinson
Neal Ross Attinson is one of those text-compulsives who feels naked without a keyboard, or at least a a pad and pen. He is unafraid of adverbs, loves astronomy and gastronomy with equally unabashed passion, and lives with/in an eclectic library in Sonoma, California.
Pithyism #80
THE OLDER I GET, THE older “old” gets — and the younger “young” seems.
Brokedown Palate (A Prosatio Silban Tale)
SITTING ON THE SODDEN DRIVER’S bench of his tilted and storm-mired galleywagon, warm rain dribbling into crevices public and private, Prosatio Silban briefly flirted with his own demise. The impulse, though not its brevity, was the oldest of his three…
Top 10 Metaphoragings: 2021
AND SO, AS OUR EARTH races to catch up to the orbital location arbitrarily assigned to “New Year’s Day,” let us pause and reflect on the year that’s passed (bloggishly speaking, anyway): My Favorite Jewish Joke – 130 views Far…
Prosatio Silban and the Amazing Replicator
SMALL KINDNESSES CAN OVERCOME GREAT cruelties, as Prosatio Silban discovered one day to his everlasting pleasure. The circumstances began with the beefy cook reflecting on yet another boisterous morning crowd surrounding his painted menu-board in the Itinerants’ Quarter of Pormaris’…
Prosatio Silban and the Centuried Stew
IF YOU’RE GOING TO STAKE your reputation on a single product, it had better be a good one. The large, one-eyed woman behind the food-stall counter was brusque but not unfriendly. “We have stew,” she told Prosatio Silban. “That’s all…
365 Names: The Encounterable
THE ENCOUNTERABLE IS A NAME I invented about three minutes ago (as of this writing: 2112.12 @ 2150), but is meant to express one understanding of the Consciousness inherent in the universe. As written elsewhere, I do not “believe” in…
Prosatio Silban and the Awesome Spectacle
DESPITE A FERVENT BELIEF IN those of the Flickering Gods he felt had not been sanitized into irrelevance, it had been long since Prosatio Silban had thought of Them as answering Their adherents’ every prayer. Not that this stopped him…
If you can take the song out and it doesn’t leave a hole, then the song’s not necessary.”
— Stephen Sondheim, a”h
Why (A Prosatio Silban Amuse-Bouche)
“WHY DO YOU DO WHAT you do?” asked the young woman sitting at one of Prosatio Silban’s tables-and-chairs. “Aside from earning a wage, I mean.” “Why does a painter paint, or a musician compose, or a sculptor bring to life…
Pithyism #Now
NEVER BEFORE, AND NEVER AGAIN: Out of all the aeons, this moment is unique, both to you and to its circumstances. Grok the hell out of it.
Prosatio Silban and the Final Refection
THE “PURE CITY,” SO SAY the Sacreants, is the eternal home reserved for the souls of pious Uulians, where their earned rewards are consonant with their earthly deeds. Capital criminals, on the other hand, are a different matter.