There are moments when I look at the absolute weight and caliber of who he is, and it commands my total respect.

It is impossible not to admire him.

He lives life with this quiet, grounded mastery: building things with his own two hands, navigating the rivers and the mountains with such ease, training his dogs, and showing up for his community when people need help. He doesn’t just move through the world; he builds a life in it, piece by piece, with intention and strength. He has done so much, seen so much, and holds this effortless capability that I’ve always found so

deeply attractive.

That strength was magnetic. To be seen by him, to share that sharp, undeniable spark and the fierce alignment we had, it was electric. It was strong, real, and undeniable. I’m sitting here holding all these big, tender feelings while the silence stretches out between us, and I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t still wonder: What if? What if the timing was just wrong? What if the distance closes one day? What if, somewhere down the road, when the air clears and the pieces fall into place, we actually end up together?

The truth is, I really don't know.

It is hard to hold on to a hope like that, but it’s also hard to just turn off the light on something that felt so real to me. Maybe I don't have to figure out the final chapter today. Maybe I can just honor how much I admired him, appreciate the connection we shared, and leave the rest sitting gently in the unknown while I keep moving forward.

Let the tide rise. Let the moon burn. Still, we bloom.




It’s a full moon tonight—
 high, tipped slightly south,
 pouring cyan across the fields like breath on a mirror.
 The whole world glows.

I want to sleep out.


To camp in the tall grass,
 barefoot under the stars.
 To dance with fireflies,
 to spin in the firelight, 
to sing songs we haven’t written yet.

How can a night like this end?


It is summer—perfected. And it begs to drag each moment into eternity.

Just in case the next one doesn’t quite measure up.

This soul is troubled— thinking of the year behind: Subduction of change to the Orogeny of beauty and wreckage.

But the moon keeps rising. The tides go on.
 Stars burn and shine. They do not slow for me.

And they never will.

I sit beneath my ancient sky,
 chasing satellites to dawn—
 and I pray.


How small a creature I am in all of this scheme, created for me and yet— not at all.

Planets turn overhead.
 The cyan has deepened to indigo.
 And just now,
 crimson seeps into the eastern edge of the world.


Every moment a miracle.

The weight of sleep is coming.

But before I am claimed— the flash of dawn blooms wetness and blurry vision.

A lavender vine the last thing
 that crosses my mind
 before I drift
 into the blue of day.

---

Moon Song – Karen O

---

2025-07-10 07:30:00

16 August 2026

Saw some more John Smith today at Whitechapel:

Record (2021) The Black Tower (1985-87) Blight (1994-96) Dad’s Stick (2012) Twice (2020) Lost Sound (1998-2001)

The Black Tower is the one still lingering. A simple, intuitive construction from elements that I couldn't help but see as painterly while I watched. I'm first thinking of drawn-out close-up shots of bare blue sky that are then revealed to be a kitchen counter surface or a piece of paper—as the narration and the plot devolve from something linear and trustworthy into a kind of relaxed mania, so do the film's formal elements. I remember one part where the tower's silhouette segments the sky, creating an arrangement of triangles in black and blue, then rhythmically expands and contracts with the sound of footsteps until the blue is compressed into one small triangle in the top left corner, which then also appears to expand and contract as the eye loses track of which shape is the agent of movement. And so I was thinking about painting ground the whole time, of toggling containing edges on and off, how extreme close-up can manipulate perceived distance, and ways to convey proximity.

Another way it is particularly successful is that it circles around something that has come up in conversation a lot recently, which I can maybe describe as an engagement with the inherent blind spots of phenomenal perception. The narrator in this film seems to always be holding himself at a remove from foreboding implications, even when he feels the presence of the tower encroaching on his life. I'm remembering now how the film starts with him noticing the tower but putting it to one side in his mind. He's curious but forgets about it over and over again until it is too intrusive to ignore. There are also shots of the same tree viewed from a high residential window: bare in winter, green and full in spring, and having its leaves shorn by a shirtless man—felt like a sequence of memories struggling to reorganize and make sense of themselves. And yet it's not as ominous as its reputation might suggest from a Google search. It's a really funny film, allowing and encouraging us to laugh at the looming omnipresent specter throughout.

Tonight we turn to the NFL. We hope to follow a preseason game between the Pittsburgh Steelers and the New York Jets with a scheduled start of 6:00 PM CDT. And we hope to follow game coverage provided by NFL Plus.

And the adventure continues.

14 August 2026

Firmly in the floating world after finding a robust Hokusai monograph at Edith's. These are the works that have been with me since:

Girls at their Toilette, from the series Seven Stylish Foibles (late 1790s) Mountain Tea-house, album-plate from Mists of Sandara (1798) Pheasant in Autumn from Album from Life (c. 1814)

Incoming waves/Receding waves, from Hokusai manga (1815) *One of the best artworks I've ever seen...

Turtles in Sayama Pond, from Hokusai manga (1817) Sunset over Ryogoku Bridge, from Thirty-six Views of Mt Fuji (early 1830s) Mt Fuji from Kajikazawa, from Thirty-six Views of Mt Fuiji (early 1830s) The Horse-washing Falls, from The Waterfalls (c. 1833) Suspension-bridge between Hida and Etchu, from The Bridges (c. 1834) Tiger in the Snow (1849)

It was really my first time swimming in the totality of his work, and the first thing that comes to mind as it settles in my head is rhythm. Rhythms of nature; human inclusive. Devotion to its majestic indifference. Waves, waterfalls, hair, fabric folds, wood grain, turtle shell patterns, bird feathers, shifting clouds, and, of course, geologic formations. His stillness is singular, frozen solid yet flowing. I thought often of Turner's Snow Storm (1842), and it's lovely to think about both of them working at the same time—their timelines overlapped almost completely.

I sent Tiger in the Snow to my dad, and he responded with recently captured images from the Inouye solar telescope that show the surface of the sun in more detail than ever seen before. A network of burnt-golden vortices cycling and spiraling. He was right—it looks just like the pattern of the tiger's fur. I don't find this coincidental; Hokusai's subjects are his own dilating device toward an inner actuality that magnified something elemental. Which I am now noticing blips of in the modular makeup of everything moving.

3. Trouble-fête

Le Japon parti, il restait à la France à reprendre le contrôle de la colonie. Les communistes, entrant par la frontière chinoise, commencèrent une guerre de guérilla puis, en 1946, ce fut l’offensive de l’armée de Ho Chi Min pour s’emparer de Hanoï. Le domaine familial s’étendait en pleine zone de combat, il semblait difficile de faire valoir ses droits dans de pareilles conditions. Il faudra attendre encore 3 ans avant que les conditions ne paraissent propices. Le retour fut décidé pour la fin 1949, la situation semblant favorable avec l’imposition de l’usurpateur fantoche Bao Dai et la perspective du commandement du général de Lattre. Cependant un grain de sable imprévu et non souhaité s’installa au cœur du plan : un deuxième enfant, moi, 7 ans après ma sœur. L’état de santé de ma mère inquiétant la famille, la deuxième grossesse s’avérant pénible, il fallut temporiser. On attendit donc la naissance du trouble-fête pour s’embarquer.

#nguolai

Hey did you feel the rain yesterday? Just came out of nowhere, there was even a big yellow sun shining just moments before.

That’s how life often is; one moment everything is fine, then when you least expect it: misery strikes from the least probable angle

Then tears well up inside, of course; sometimes the feelings of betrayal are bigger than what can fit inside a single human being, I think.

But hey, what’s the alternative? You have to participate in this so called life even though you’re several ways of doomed from the start.

(We all know how this will end, even though it’s generally not something we enjoy talking about)

Just hope to have enough grit to get back up on your feet, get up get up get up,

Limp forwards, upwards

Reach for the light!!!!

But it’s not wrong to be angry and sad, because it’s not fair

It’s not fair .

I was never a morning person even when I worked as a private investigator. But I got used to it. Waking my older son up for school still takes getting used to but at least I’m not waking up at 4 to 4:30 am. Still, the idea of sleeping in sounds good right about now.

Which is why I don’t like recommending writers to sacrifice their sleep in order to write. I never liked that particular advice. I’ll take sleep more than a few minutes or an hour of writing. More rest is good.

#writing #children #mornings #school #stayathomedad

This article was first published in 2007, and is critical to understanding how events in the wider world affect you—and you affect them. Must read.

This edition of The Doctor’s Notes discusses a little understood but critical link between actions by individuals and events that take place on both a personal and a global scale.

Research has shown a definite tie between personal events and global events, known as micro-events and macro-events, respectively. And the link that forms the synergism between them is entropic resonances.

An Historic Discovery

An individual’s psychic energy exists in definite, discrete bands, or quantum levels. This energy can be transferred between the individual’s various quantum levels, altering emotions and psychic stability.

These transfers are known as entropic resonances, due to the patterns of energy flows and the tendency of energy to be lost to the environment. A key discovery of the 20th Century was that entropic resonances not only take place in the present, but also to and from the past and future. A second key discovery was that entropic resonances take place between individuals as well.

On a darker note, they also bring people under the sway of cults and criminal conspiracies.

Where these ties become very important is when considering the ties between individuals and groups of individuals. Entropic resonances are the links that bind all of us to each other, throughout the world and through time.

On a smaller scale, some of these links can become extremely strong—both positive and negative. These close bonds, known as quantum entanglements, manifest themselves in strong relationships between people—love, hate, lifelong friendships.

On a larger scale, entropic resonances help bring similar-minded individuals into groups: clubs, organizations or political parties. On a darker note, they also bring people under the sway of cults and criminal conspiracies.

Risks of Groupthink

As the energy levels increase, important behaviors can become manifest. When the entropic resonances flow energy in wave form between the masses of individuals, the risk of groupthink increases asymptotically.

Unexpected population growths or shifts can result in even more radical groupthink occurrences. For example, the World Wars of the 20th Century came about after dramatic increases in German population. Another example is the so-called “Republican Revolution” of the 1990s and Tea Party movement of the early 2000s.

Behavior and emotions can be radically altered when part of a larger group, particularly one tied together by groupthink.

From a personal perspective, this vast energy pool can have very unexpected effects on the individual. Behavior and emotions can be radically altered when part of a larger group, particularly one tied together by groupthink.

The energy resonating between the individual and the group can be orders of magnitude higher than that of the ordinary individual level. People do and say things that they would never consider doing on their own—from drinking spiked Kool-Aid to voting for a Democrat.

Entropic Resonances Bind Us All

As the time arrow moves forward, the entropic resonances begin to become evident in concrete, physical events in the individual’s lives. While the truly momentous events such as war and K-Pop crazes obviously affect masses of people, what can seem like simply a bad day can truly be the result of energy affecting various individuals through entropic resonances.

Fortunately, there is help. engenetics^.org studies these energies and their links among all of us. Using complex higher differential math to develop advanced computer models to simulate quantum levels and entropic resonances, The Center for engenetics ^.org Studies has worked tirelessly for the past decade.

This research has been critical in bringing key discoveries to the engenetics ^.org community, as well as the public. And with understanding, comes control. If the energy found in entropic resonances can be controlled and, yes—channelled, the world can be made a better place for us all.

The Research Must Continue

Still, it is expensive to use the advanced computers required for the simulations, and the models must be matched against actual measurements. In order to continue this vital research, please contact your local engenetics ^.org representative to see what you can do.

While donations of funds are always beneficial, volunteering to help researchers work with other volunteers to validate the computer models against the actual test results is equally important. Please help engenetics^.org and remember: only you can make the future a reality—today. Ω

Dr. M. E. Tabyánan Executive Director and Founder The Center for engenetics ^.org Studies

“On a larger scale, entropic resonances help bring similar-minded individuals into groups: clubs, organizations or political parties. On a darker note, they also bring people under the sway of cults and criminal conspiracies.” —The Synergism of Global Macro- and Personal Micro-Events (2003)

---

Ask The Doctor!

Question: Why do all politicians seem so stupid? —Sharon Decatuar, New York NY, USA The Doctor: Sharon, it is not that they are stupid, it is that they are uninformed. With a few exceptions, they fall into the trap of acting without the knowledge that engenetics^.org could provide. If they were to take the very simple step of embracing our community and leveraging the knowledge base we enjoy, the world would be a lot better place.

---

What Others Are Saying

“I can see now that the Earth is one, big system, interconnected by psychic energy... They never taught us that in school!” —John Smith, Bangor, ME, USA

“I do not understand why these people want to hurt The Doctor! He just wants to help us all!” —Donna Washington, Chicago IL, USA

“I can now sleep at night. Things finally make sense to me…” —Eric Jones, Dallas TX, USA

---

#thedoctorsnotes #entropicresonances #quantumlevels

• What do Norman Mailer and Charles Dickens have in common? – Crimereads.

• The Nogood Book – Fonts in Use.

• Vintage Egyptian cigarette packages – The Daily Heller.

#radar

El verano es una gran época para la lectura, pero, en mi caso, la lista de pendientes no me permite abordar la de novedades con la conciencia tranquila. Estas vacaciones he decidido, por tanto, enfrentarme a uno de mis pendientes: El hombre en el castillo, de Philip K. Dick. Publicada en 1962 y conocida también por la serie de Netflix, es una novela distópica, aunque también podría clasificarse como ciencia ficción o incluso ficción filosófica. El libro puede considerarse una obra posmoderna por la época en la que fue escrito y por sus características. Elegí esta novela porque me gustó mucho ¿Sueñan los androides con ovejas eléctricas?, otra de las obras más conocidas del autor. Además, me interesan especialmente los temas que aborda.

En esta novela, las potencias del Eje ganaron la Segunda Guerra Mundial. Estados Unidos está dividido en tres partes: la costa del Pacífico, controlada por Japón; la costa del Atlántico, controlada por Alemania; y los Estados de las Montañas Rocosas, que, a pesar de ser un territorio libre, siguen estando bajo la influencia de ambas potencias. En este contexto, el libro presenta la historia de varios personajes de orígenes diversos. Estas historias están conectadas de manera indirecta y parecen independientes unas de otras. El único elemento presente en todas ellas es La langosta se ha posado, un libro escrito por Hawthorne Abendsen. En ese libro, Abendsen relata un mundo en el que el Reino Unido ha ganado la Segunda Guerra Mundial.

La acción tiene lugar principalmente en San Francisco. Allí, Frank Fink y Ed McCarthy han dejado sus trabajos y utilizan su experiencia para abrir un negocio dedicado a fabricar joyas de gran calidad. Representan el sueño americano de empezar de nuevo. Su historia se complementa con la de Robert Childan, propietario de una tienda de antigüedades llamada American Artistic Handcrafts Inc., que representa el papel del estadounidense orgulloso. Decide arriesgarse a vender en su tienda joyas contemporáneas de calidad nacional en lugar de continuar con la seguridad de vender objetos de un pasado que ya no existe. Todo esto sucede en un ambiente opresivo en el que la gente mantiene una visión racista de los estadounidenses. Este es el caso de Nabosuke Tagomi, jefe de la Comisión de Comercio Japonesa, que es retratado como un tradicionalista. Debido a sus creencias, se derrumba después de verse involucrado como intermediario en un plan para descubrir un peligroso plan alemán contra los japoneses. El último personaje cuya vida seguimos es Juliana Fink, exmujer de Frank, que viaja en coche desde Cañon City hasta Denver para conocer al autor de La langosta se ha posado. Después de un enfrentamiento con Joe, un asesino alemán enviado para matar a Abendsen, Juliana se encuentra con el escritor en su casa. Esta visita constituye el clímax de la novela y termina con la confesión de Abendsen de que todo el libro fue escrito siguiendo las instrucciones del I Ching. El I Ching es un antiguo texto chino de adivinación que aparece numerosas veces a lo largo de la novela. Muchos personajes lo utilizan, especialmente Frank Fink y Nabosuke Tagomi, para intentar conocer el futuro o tomar decisiones basándose en sus premoniciones.

Disfruté de la lectura de la novela porque, a pesar de su brevedad, aborda temas complejos sin detenerse en largas descripciones. Los detalles sobre cómo es la vida bajo un gobierno fascista no suelen mostrarse de manera explícita, sino que se dan a entender. Esa es la razón de la aparición del budismo en la historia, un elemento de la cultura japonesa que es impuesto por la fuerza en Estados Unidos. En este sentido, me parece que el I Ching funciona en ocasiones como un deus ex machina, indicando a los personajes cómo actuar o cómo enfrentarse a sus situaciones. Sin embargo, me gusta la manera en que el oráculo se utiliza en la confesión de Hawthorne Abendsen, quien parece ser una analogía de Philip K. Dick y de su propia vida como escritor. Además, admiro la capacidad del autor para introducir temas filosóficos sin largas divagaciones, simplemente presentando el escenario. Investigando a este respecto, parece que de facto el autor utilizó el I Ching para decidir algunos aspectos de la novela.

Este libro fue una experiencia intensa para mí. Esperaba una lectura ligera, con pocos personajes y una trama predecible, para amenizar el verano y de paso tachar un pendiente de mi lista. Sin embargo, me encontré con una novela profunda, llena de personajes interesantes. El final es lo suficientemente abierto como para estimular la imaginación y la especulación. Recomendaría este libro a cualquiera que esté interesado en historias atípicas que van directamente a la acción y no se detienen en largas descripciones o reflexiones.

#Reseñas

The great falsehood.

I was once told that in order to have a happy life, I need discipline. That is false.

Many people like me spend an enormous amount of effort trying to be disciplined and fail everyday. Every day. I contend there is a better way.

Don’t let what disciplined folks can say ruin your day.

There is a way to live undisciplined and be a happy person. You can be content, you can have meaningful relationships, you can feel good about yourself. The rub is that many disciplined people don’t believe this. There is a bias held by many disciplined folk against the undisciplined.

Bias as old as humanity.

As a musically talented bipolar person growing up in the world, I was given many lectures regarding the importance of discipline. I was told the key to success is in discipline, that’s very false. I was told the secret to happiness was discipline, again false, (also not a secret if someone bothered telling it to me). I was given priorities of rigorous discipline by unknowing older or mentor-type adults, many of whom were convinced if I just had discipline, I’d be unstoppable. Seriously, I was told this as a kid.

They have ‘key attributes’ made up for discipline.. a list of biases.

Here’s the kicker, though. Discipline is a skill. That means it is learned. They even have it broken down into key attributes:

• Self-control: Managing your feelings and stopping bad habits.
• Perseverance: Not giving up when things get hard.
• Respect for rules: Obeying laws and guidelines set by authority.
• Dedication: Working hard to finish important tasks.
• Consistency: Doing the right task every day without fail. 

Okay, I’ll just stop a bad habit.

Do you see the inherent bias in this? As a bipolar, the number one key is impossible sometimes. The second item is nothing but bias. The rules suck right now, in response to the third. I don’t have a problem with the 4th, but you aren’t going to know which tasks are important and which are just dumb being dedicated to all of them or dedicated to these rules. Consistency in art is a no-go for me. I don’t even want it. Consistency means no growth, unless you are consistently growing..but they don’t call that discipline. Capitalists love this term, by the way, “consistency.” Artists do not. Maybe some have a little of both in them and they’re fighting each other.. REAL disciplined, guys. (always a dude.)

Dear techs and producers,

I love my disciplined technicians and producers, but many have had difficulty with me not being disciplined. This is not because they know more, not because they know best; it’s bias. They are able to be disciplined, maybe raised that way. They have specific ways of doing things. They are not flexible. That is not me. I am not going to be masterful at discipline at 50 as a bipolar and someone who’s never been that way. Some roads I don’t go down in this life. That is just the way it is.

The good news.

The good news for me is I don’t have to be disciplined to be happy, content, love, or make art. So I am fine.

I do have to do other things. 

I have to make myself a list of rules per project. I mentioned before I set up stations around the house, one station, one job. I have developed routines, like a disciplined person might, just because I am bipolar and it helps mitigate symptoms. I take meds to keep control and be ‘myself’ for long periods of time. I try to sleep a lot. Sleep seems to help me from getting too hyper. Go figure. I am eating better and better, a long, slow, arduous, and even expensive process. But it feels good. I do physical stuff at the day job. Keeps the blood flowing. I also talk a bunch about how I feel. I hope friends let me know if I say something concerning to them. Talking for me is a way to weave myself in the world. The music helps me a lot. But talking seems to be fun for more folks than just me. Haha. Whereas talking to myself, not hitting.

We’re talking self-care here. It might be my only discipline. And that’s FINE.

I do a whole lot to stay on top of symptoms and have fun. But it is not the discipline required to finish a college degree, or even fix a car. Maintenance is hard for me. Learning software bores me to tears. I have done it. But I am not doing it anymore. Music stuff gets to a technical level where I have to make hard choices. I usually make the wrong one. So I change things and hope for better next time. That’s as disciplined as I get. I don’t have years of habit, skill, routine, even living in one place very long. My life has largely been about survival. A strong sense of discipline would have killed me not so long ago. I had to quit, give up, surrender, admit I needed to change, take pills. If I have managed to develop ANY discipline since then, it’s only because I did that stuff first.

Maybe we need both types?

So, you disciplined folks getting frustrated with undisciplined songwriters can chill. Why not play to your strengths? Have a disciplined and an undisciplined relationship. Does the undisciplined person get on your nerves, even though you have never met and you like their songs? Check your bias.

Kelly Kintner, Editor

The Horse’s Mouth Magazine

NOLAN'S ODYSSEY_review

I finally went to the cinema to watch the much‑talked‑about film about what happened after the Trojan War: the famous Odyssey. There’s no such thing as “spoilers” for the Odyssey, my dear reader, so read my take if you want; it hardly matters. Or don’t read it, because it’s not important at all.

Nolan’s Odyssey succeeds in expressing its zeitgeist. He almost uses the Odyssey as a pretext to talk about the crisis of the American empire. Which, personally, I find unfortunate, because Homer’s Odyssey is far more interesting than watching Matt Damon play yet another traumatized soldier.

He manages the rare feat of irritating the far right, which, on its own, is already a positive outcome, but he also risks alienating another audience: anyone willing to look a bit more closely, readers of Greek classics, lovers of a good story.

The simplification of the “poor soldier forced to kill thousands but still closes his eyes and cries sincerely because deep down he’s a good person” which immediately reminded me of his last movie, Oppenheimer, with all due respect. To me, it’s a repetition of the same moral structure. More than repeating the plot, it’s almost a genre of American psychoanalysis: revisiting its wars, revising its own guilt, and in the end reaffirming its morality, because if guilt exists, it must mean there’s something fundamentally good that by the end will prevail and will save us all. In my opinion, the film was extremely weak. The dialogues are inconsistent. Ulysses shouting “Let’s get out of this fucking beach!!!!” followed by lines using formal address as if mimicking ancient dialogue was a big turn off. Artistically, I found it poor, mostly due to the script, which is always what gets me. And of course everyone has their core observations and interests, but for me, as a script-oriented person, it was quite silly.

My second point: the Greek gods. In ancient times, the gods were represented as these deeply human figures in mythology. And that’s precisely what I missed on Nolan’s Odyssey: there was no sensuality, no corporeality, they’re practically ectoplasmic silhouettes, with the ethereal aesthetic of roman catholic saints, which makes everything dull. And speaking of dull, Homer’s Odyssey is full of humor. Nolan’s version is tedious.

And then there’s the way Nolan situates the film politically and culturally. In the first act, he introduces a diverse cast: a Black Helen, Elliot Page as a warrior, which immediately triggers the anti‑woke right wing to attack the film even before its release, pushing the progressive camp to support it in advance. But the film itself carries a christian moral framework. Nolan’s Ulysses feels guilt, repents, confesses; he’s a man seeking his pardon. Penelope doesn’t exactly absolve him, but she gives him a path toward redemption.

Nolan made a film that provokes the right by showing them as the pagans: the ones with a pre christian morality, who long for a Caesar, who romanticize the empire, who are drawn to the figure of the pater, this master of his household and his servants. At the same time, he tells the progressive camp: do not fool yourselves, you operate with a christian morality too, because much of what you defend: measuring a society by how it treats its vulnerable, respecting foreigners and the poor, it is fundamentally christian, even if you often reject the christian tradition because it is so uncool. This interplay between the work and its reception in my perception is Nolan’s genius.

Still, Nolan is a curious director. Whether you like him or not, he has something that gets people into theaters. He has positioned himself as a relevant filmmaker, and his movies, regardless of taste, generate endless discussion. I always engage with his films, whether to praise or critique. With this release, he demonstrated an impressive command of the cultural machine. He knew exactly how the film would be received and shaped the narrative arcs accordingly, almost as if the film were an artistic intervention, a performance. There’s the work itself, and then the way it will be received.

Now, his interviews promoting the film are brilliant. He compares AI, for example, to a glass Trojan horse: we know it’s a Greek gift, we can see the danger inside it, and yet we still open the gates for it.

The work itself doesn’t appeal to me. Even so, Nolan remains a major director and an interesting public figure. He’s simply not a good screenwriter. Signing the script as “Christopher Nolan and Homero” was...incredibly tacky. Hahaha! Truly unnecessary.

Just received a wonderful gift from a good friend of mine. Looking forward to diving into the classics! Thank you JP!

Swords Against Darkness volumes one to five:

Books one to four of The Elric Saga—Elric of Melnibone, The Sailor on the Seas of Fate, The Weird of the White Wolf, and The Vanishing Tower:

The March of Muscovy and Suleiman The Magnificent by Harold Lamb:

#Postbox #Fantasy

This review is a Writing Repository original.

Seers in a Broken Season

By Jonathan Olfert – Old Moon Publishing – October 31, 2026 (tentative)

Review by Robin Marx

Ice blankets a once tropical land and Walks-like-a-Rockslide, wooly mammoth warrior of the Blue Ochre People, travels in search of warmer climes and more abundant sources of food. Upon discovering slaughtered whale remains at a small human encampment, he is enraged by the perceived murder of noble cetacean Deep People by vermin-like hominids and immediately rampages through the settlement. Killing the boldest humans with trampling feet and quartz blades attached to his tusks, Walks-like-a-Rockslide scatters the survivors and helps himself to their campfires and clean drinking water. Before long, however, a larger tribe of human whalers advances into the region, bringing with them more threatening weaponry and a sorcerer with uncanny powers. Through magical means, sporadic communication between Walks-like-a-Rockslide and the whalers' sorcerer is established. The mammoth and the humans enter a tentative truce, as both parties want the same thing: food and continued survival. Walks-like-a-Rockslide is abundantly aware that—in the eyes of the humans—he could easily be reclassified from ally to sustenance, but the sorcerer convinces the skeptical mammoth that the humans' more pressing concern is a massive shark lurking just offshore, incessantly harrying their whaling boats. Can their fragile detente survive mutual mistrust, increasing desperation, specters from the past, and dark sorcery?

Marketed as a Stone and Sorcery novella, Seers in a Broken Season is a work of paleofiction set in the early stages of an Ice Age. It's the longest work to date in what author Jonathan Olfert calls the “Broken Season” cycle of stories, an allusion to the collapsing climate. Walks-like-a-Rockslide first debuted in the fifth issue of Old Moon Quarterly, with a subsequent appearance in Issue #8. While Seers in a Broken Season occasionally references events from these earlier short stories (particularly Issue #5's “Together Under the Wing”), but familiarity with them is not essential to enjoy the present novella.

Walks-like-a-Rockslide is a character like no other. While Stone Age stories are not unknown (Conan the Barbarian creator Robert E. Howard's first published work was “Spear and Fang,” a Cro-Magnon versus Neanderthal adventure appearing in Weird Tales in 1925), rarely do readers have the opportunity to see the world through the eyes of a pachyderm. Walks-like-a-Rockslide's physique and capabilities are far separated from the human realm, and present different challenges. His strength and endurance far exceed those of a human, but even a nimble trunk has limitations when it comes to fine manipulation. His eyesight is poor, a fact exacerbated by the previous loss of one eye. Beyond the physical domain, the differences in mindset between mammoth and human are intriguing. The reader understands that the humans are desperately clinging to life in a rapidly deteriorating world, but to Walks-like-a-Rockslide their lives are barely worthy of notice. Miniscule in both stature and importance. Mammoths and their cousins the whales are People, while humans are irritations unworthy of pronouns beyond “it.” “Who counts as a person?” is a central theme running throughout the novella.

The setting of the Broken Season is likewise fascinating. Readers recognize it as a burgeoning Ice Age, but the inhabitants have no idea what is occurring or if the world will ever recover. The apocalypse is well underway, and desperation and distrust are endemic. The Ice Age presented is also a distinctly haunted epoch. In addition to (largely unexplained) ghostly birds, Walks-like-a-Rockslide is repeatedly visited by spectral mammoths, his grandmother (a powerful sorcerer and former matriarch of the Blue Ochre People) chief among them. The bleak terrain and ever-present memento mori lend a unique atmosphere to the narrative.

The core of the story has an almost Spaghetti Western feel. A stranger comes to town, upsetting the established order. Resources are scarce, alliances are continuously formed and discarded, and violence is sudden. Every stranger is a potential threat to be measured up. But even though they're both constantly squinting, Walks-like-a-Rockslide is far less self-possessed and stoic than Clint Eastwood's various gunslingers. The wooly warrior is moody, tempestuous, and frequently sullen. His stage of life as a mammoth beyond “young” is unclear, but in human terms he reads like a teenage boy; powerful and approaching his prime but not yet as confident and decisive a hero as Conan the Cimmerian.

While there is no shortage of reflective moments, Seers in a Broken Season also delivers a considerable amount of action. Kaiju movie fans will doubtless be thrilled by the titanic mammoth versus Megalodon melee, but all the violence throughout the story is visceral and imbued with palpable weight and momentum. Wounds count. They reopen with further exertion. Walks-like-a-Rockslide can't rely on a friendly healer to apply a nonspecific-but-narratively-convenient herbal poultice or frequently even tend to his own wounds with his trunk. Olfert makes it clear that every encounter carries risks, and accumulated injuries up the ante for every further skirmish.

Seers in a Broken Season benefits from both a fascinating protagonist and an intriguing setting, and it feels like both Walks-like-a-Rockslide and the age of the Broken Season retain a great deal of future storytelling potential. Sorcery and violent action abound, but the narrative doesn't neglect atmosphere and the emotional aspect of Walks-like-a-Rockslide's journey. A new bar has been set for Stone and Sorcery adventure.

As of the time of this posting, Seers in a Broken Season is being crowdfunded via a (currently 200% funded) Backerkit campaign. Digital (ePub and PDF) formats are planned, along with a mass-market paperback edition. For completists, bundles are provided that include Seers in a Broken Season along with Walks-like-a-Rockslide's two Old Moon Quarterly appearances. The novella's release is tentatively scheduled for Q4 2026.

#WritingRepositoryOriginal #BookReview #Fantasy #SwordAndSorcery #StoneAndSorcery #Paleofiction #OldMoonQuarterly #SeersInABrokenSeason #JonathanOlfert