Tag: Literally Reruns

Well here we go, we now say farewell and thank you to 2023. And as the year cleans out its desk in the present and moves into the archives, we close it with the last of ten reruns over the past nine days!

Longtime site friend Doug Hawley specializes in making the absurd seem possible. And that talent is extremely present in Half. It begins with an almost religious disease matter-of-factly diagnosed by perhaps the most dubious physician since Wm. S. Burrough’s Dr. Benway of Naked Lunch.

Merry Christmas, even to the humbuggers. Today we present two in a series we call the Reruns of Christmas. James McEwan began this party yesterday, which will last through Sunday. And there will be no rest for the wicked because the new year begins with new stories next Monday.

This poignant tale by site friend Michael Bloor is definitely suited for November. The Next Morning is a fantastic example of telling a story clearly though indirectly. It allows the little things to build up, and the payoff is tremendous.

here we are just past October, or, Rocktober, as some of us like to call it. There’s something wonderfully reflective about that month (perhaps enhanced with an abundance of mini Three Musketeer Bars); and in such a mood I go all the way back to the Summer of 2016 for this Rocktober‘s rerun.

From the two sides to every story department, we present The Last Lost Eye by Marco Etheridge.

In this impersonal age of cyber friends (like me), witch hunters who never meet in person and gaining the gospel from unholy sources David Henson’s My Powdered Friend is a satire that is uncomfortably close to being true. As in much of David’s work, he takes a bright, keen, even flippant tone, which intensifies the darker themes. And he has the great knack of making you believe just about anything.