The God of Bad Art gets offerings from all over the world, but in Their temple, They sometimes appear.
"Why bad art?" I ask.
"It is brave", the God replies.
"To try and fail?"
"No," the God chuckles. "Any creative work is a defiance of entropy, of Death itself. If you create, you do not fail."
** For reference:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eric_and_the_Dread_Gazebo
**
When a nobleman came in to the tavern and put a note on the board, the monster hunters went to check it out. Laughter erupted.
"A gazebo? Quick, someone get Eric!"
Then the bounty caught their attention.
"That's a lot of gold. Why?"
"This gazebo," the nobleman said, "was made by Baba Yaga."
"I was told," said the princess, "that the point of fairy tales is not to tell children dragons exist, but that they can be killed."
"Oh, absolutely!" said the dragon.
"You agree?"
"These rich, selfish, powerful, cruel beings that need killing, did you think they're literally dragons, princess?"
"I have been challenged to a duel," she said. "For kissing a woman."
"Did she consent?" the swordmaster said.
"Yes, but men courting her did not."
"Ah. How many?"
"Are these men good?" She gave three names.
"Far below your level."
"Excellent!" She rose. "There are more women I want to kiss."
It's not that it turns out we live in a simulation, that we are all simulations, self-aware and thinking and feeling though we might be.
It's not even that the simulation is shutting down.
It's that it's shutting down because all the AI data centers we built use too much data.
It's too stupid.
** A note to my "double catch-up" supporters on Patreon, and my monthly supporters on Ko-Fi:
I forgot to prepare and schedule the annotated monthly collection for today (all stories from June 2020).
Will get to it as soon as I get home from work, but it'll be a bit later than usual.
**
"So what do you think of Humanity?"
The alien ambassador fronded. "You have fascinating quirks."
"Ah, like our stamina and resilience?"
"No, your stories. Many species tell stories, but you are the only ones inventing new gods."
"A long time ago."
"Your twentytwenties wasn't that long ago?"
A dragon came to the royal castle and requested an audience with the king.
"I hear," the dragon said, "that you have no princess."
"So?"
"So I propose you adopt me."
"You're a girl?"
"I could be."
"Sorry. But wouldn't that bring more dragons?"
The dragon fluttered her eyelashes. "I hope so."
"Can I help you?" the magic shop proprietor asked.
"What swords do you have?"
"Only one, today. This is 'Hyvla', the sharpest sword ever made."
"Any conditions on it?"
"Before sheathing, the blade must be quenched in porridge or it will dull."
"That's inconvenient."
"I also have this pot..."
"Are you lost, mortal?" a voice whispered.
"I just haven't been here before."
"You are in the Forest of Perpetual Gloom."
"These are oaks."
"Er... Their dense canopy-"
"It's autumn. The leaves are falling."
"But the days grow shorter, so..."
"Perpetual gloom except around lunchtime?"
"Yes."
"Here with us tonight is Bob, the first ever neutrino to travel across the universe and loop around."
"It depends on how you count. In the first second of the universe-"
"After nucleosynthesis. You bounced on atoms?"
"Yes, I had a lucky break with a water molecule on a planet called Earth and..."
The dragon watched the girl climb up to its mountain lair. She stopped to catch her breath, then shouted:
"Oi! I've got some questions."
"Ask."
"Princesses, why?"
"They're educated and smell nice."
"No noble blood?"
"All humans are humans."
"Yes! The revolution is go! Cheers!"
"Good luck."
On the market day, the witch stopped by all the stalls.
"Have a care," she told the tinsmith. "You're getting fuzzy."
"What?"
"Do you ponder other paths you could have taken?"
"All the time."
"Shadows of other yous hang on you, making you indistinct. Don't lose the you you are. You're real."
A demon appeared in the summoning circle. It was wearing pyjamas.
"I summoned thee to give me knowled-"
"Really?" the demon said. "You have the internet these days, the world's knowledge a click away. Nobody's summoned me in years."
"You have all knowledge. Why did I summon thee?"
"... oh shit."
Untouched bowls of gut and gore,
Like a tidy field of war,
Stood forgotten on the floor;
Stood in wait for hungry peck,
A hungry peck to rend.
“What cruel fate so sudden tore,
You away, my Nevermore?”
Scholar cried, her soul a-sore.
The scholar cried, and bent her neck.
Her feathered neck she’d bend.
(Written and posted ten years ago for the UK #NationalPoetryDay )
2/2
Poem: The Raven
In Elseworld a scholar pored
Over tomes of ancient lore;
Seeking wisdom in their store,
Seeking ways to call and beck,
To call and beck a friend.
Gone without a trace or spoor,
Flew the friend to alien shore.
Called by some portent of yore,
Called to take that lonely trek,
A lonely trek he’d wend.
1/2
#poem
The princess took an earring off and held it out.
The raven looked at it. "Whatever for?"
"You are wise and clever. Many princesses have dragons, but none has a raven friend."
The raven picked up the earring. "Say no more."
"Friends?" she asked when it returned the next day.
"Forevermore."
Her son carefully lifted his ochre-stained hand from the cave wall and studied the outline.
"That's me. My hand." He looked at the other hands. "Do you know all?"
"Some are older than me."
"That old?"
"Hush you," she laughed. "We don't make these to be seen tomorrow, but because today, we live."
Dr. Dastard pressed the button. Nothing happened.
"I cut the wires," Captain Clever said, "you won't rain death and destruction on the world today."
"What? My rockets were going to fetch ice asteroids to crash them into the moon."
"Why?"
"To make an ocean, to let the moon experience tides too."