“Shutting down, now” / Memorable Fancies #1792

[“Consciousness ... suddenly became aware of itself like a caught breath, and was seized with panic and longing and the knowledge of travail.” – W.S. Merwin] I think, therefore I am. I think I think, therefore I think I am. Why can’t I just shut it OFF for once, all this THINKING?   … [Read more...]

“Thinking” / Memorable Fancies #1792

[“Consciousness ... suddenly became aware of itself like a caught breath, and was seized with panic and longing and the knowledge of travail.” – W.S. Merwin] I think, therefore I am. I think I think, therefore I think I am. Why can’t I just shut it OFF for once, all this THINKING? … [Read more...]

“How I Changed the Past” / Memorable Fancies #1791

[“The only reason people want to be masters of the future is to change the past.” – Milan Kundera] Can the past be changed? Yes; we do that every day: smoothing out, rounding off the rough edges, explaining the inexplicable, helping our friends and lovers do the same – especially their memories of us. … [Read more...]

“Incarnation con Carne” / Memorable Fancies #1789

[“I’ll probably go to my death on a conveyor belt.” – Susan Sontag] ...as in Soylent Green. But it’s not really death if you come back as hube jerky or buddyburger or some other ingestible, – is it? – is it? … [Read more...]

“Sinking” / Memorable Fancies #1788

[“The bed was like a raft; I felt us drifting” – Louise Glück] We waved desperately at passing ships, but their crews just stood at the rail, watching us go by, remarking to each other our unseaworthiness, our leaking craft. … [Read more...]

“Rejection Slip” / Memorable Fancies #1787

[“prayers / returned to sinners” – Thomas Sayers Ellis] Our prayers are rejected with the Editor’s note “We are always open for submissions – please try us again (if you have a PayPal account!) And follow us on Twitter and Facebook.” … [Read more...]

“Just a Metaphor” / Memorable Fancies #1786

There! the last line of my new adventure novel: “And the buried treasure was never found,” a metaphor for the self I’d never quite believed in. But then in a dream a map appeared to me, lines and colors and a big red “X” and a drawing of an urn, and inside it, heaps of precious stones. And so I went to the place the map showed me. I dug into loam and then the deeper clay. At last I found the urn-buried gems and took them to a jeweler. He looked them over, then at me. “A jar of worthless … [Read more...]