One Word Review™

2012: Meta

Where the Wild Things Are FanFic

At 21 years old, Max pinned a tail to his suit and sailed out towards the island. When he climbed up the shore he found the path to the forest that he remembered by sense of smell alone as now much of the trees that marked it when he was 9 have now been returned to dust. Beyond what was the fort was now a hilltop. It was not there before and seemed to be built as if to hold something secret in its belly. On top was a creature of a mass hugging a round stone. Carol looked up and saw Max and Max saw that on the stone was written "K.W." in a heart. Carol fixed his yellow eyes on Max and said "today's my birthday."
Max led Carol down past the fort and beyond the dusty forest and to the shore that held his boat. Max lifted up the sail and brought out a great chocolate frosted cake.
"It's mine too," said Max and they carried the cake up the hill to the round stone. Great sounds came toward them and Douglas and Ira and Janet and Alexander and The Bull made their way up the tomb.
Carol sat back and put his hand on the stone, unable to look at the wild things.
"Here, have some," offered Max, lifting up the cake and drawing back the attention of Carol's great yellow eyes.
"Yes, have some," agreed Carol, "it's still hot."
And they roared and howled and had cake.
Then the sun came and Max left knowing that Carol was with all his teeth now.

The National Parks: America's Best Idea FanFic

"I felt their youth pulsate through the trees. I never will shoot a wolf in clear conscience whether in field or valley." - George Morgil
"For all the virtue that George Morgil wrote about, there was little known about the man who many considered the 'great grandfather' of the National Parks." - Harriet Beacher, Chief Groundsperson of Yosemite National Park.
George Morgil was found hung over a cavern three days after the park opened to the public. His body, devoured by the wolves he so often wrote about, was discovered by Teddy Roosevelt's personal secretary and friend, Rodger Helmsmith.
"It was a cool evening, I had just commenced a stroll with my son when we saw his body."
-Rodger Helmsmith.
"Dad, there's a ghost in that cave!" - Rodger Helmsmith Jr.
"That is no hovering apparition, but a human no longer tethered to this mortal coil but instead to a redwood tree over a wolf cavern. Stop crying. That man is George Morgil." - Rodger Helmsmith.
With his son's hysterics put to bed by means of a chloroformed handkerchief, Rodger Helmsmith extracted what were perhaps the final thoughts of George Morgil by means of a note deeply wedged in his throat.
"There is nothing more democratic than the magnificent beauty unmarred by man in his foolish pleasures. The wolf pack knows not of any sculpture or poetry, yet they add more to the landscape than any farmer or patriot. If by chance they eat of my flesh, let me run in them. If they by chance eat of my True self, let me impregnate them so that I may run with their cubs and their grandcubs alike and in stride. Let the children of this great land come to visit these grounds and look upon my children with a sense of equality. And if they hunger, let my wolf pack feed on them and make love to their bodies. Let the howling of the coyote seem dim in the light of the moans of my wolves. Let no great bald eagle fly where my wolves do not den. This is what is possible for I want of nothing less." - George Morgil.
The nation was reborn and in the wake of Morgilian thought and preservation, caravans of station-wagons reconnected with the country's past and ever-present future.

Coco B.C. fanfic

Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel ran quickly down the cobbled steps of her lover's apartment house and slipped on the rain-slicked street.
"Merde!" she said.
A foreigner passerby believed that she said "murder" and ran up the steps and into her Italian lover's hallway. The lover explained the misunderstanding and it was settled. That foreigner felt embarrassed and left a small drawing, signing it: "Pablo, Pablo Picasso." The lover showed it to Gabrielle and she was transfixed by the Spaniard's strange use of form.
Gabrielle picked herself up and continued running down the street as if her accident was a tenured teacher in nihilism. She had to get to the garment district before the boutique opened for the Monday morning rush. They were having a great sale.
She opened shop and stood behind the counter as people came throughout the day to try on wares of the current fashions and highest thread counts. Egyptian cotton was on everyone's must have lists. All around France, things from the middle-east were flying off the hangers - "even the planes" as the joke goes. She stared blankly at a German foreigner who kept responding to her sales pitch with "nein yards." Gabrielle realized what was happening after the third time and politely smiled at the German and moved on to another customer. The German, embarrassed for speaking a combination of German and English in France left the store but not before leaving a note for Gabrielle that read: "Dear Lady, sorry for the inconvenience. Here are 15 francs for the translator of this letter. Sincerely, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe."
Upon reading the letter, Gabrielle looked up to see her lover being taken away by interpol. His hands in interlocking cuffs looked like two letter "c's." She blurred her eyes and put on her "Piscasso filter" -as she came to call it- and saw that not only did they look like two "c's" but it looked like "Coco." Giacomo Casanova was then extradited to the Doge's Palace in Venice and lived out his days with a pet pig.
Coco, as her nametag now read, asked her boss if she could do some work for the boutique and she went on to make two popular quilted bags and five wonderful perfumes. When the boutique owner, Louis-Françious Cartier, moved on to watches and jewelry - not to mention spend time with his son Alfred and grandsons Louis, Pierre, and Jacques - he left the store to Coco. She named it Chanel. Then word came that things were now Anno Domini.

Bright Star FanFic

"Just press the fucking gas button!" John exclaimed as the space cruiser was hit by a meteor. He knew that with this crew the Hyperion was never going to make it to her destination. Commissioned by the Queen of New Spain, the Hyperion was a vessel on a very clear-cut and far-from-secret mission. Ship manifests documented their journey from the start and this is in part the reason the writing-robot was out of ink. It really didn't have to log every single interaction of the crew, especially the last ditch effort of team building/bonding - the talent show. John knew that there would be no record of his words, hence the swearing in his commands. Percy Bysshe Shelley, John's crewman and contemporary, pressed the button and the Hyperion jetted away from the meteors and resumed a course toward their destination. There it was, glowing red in front of them, the Moorgate. 85 Moorgate to be exact.
"This is where I'm born," John said aloud to himself as if he couldn't control his voice from making those sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley respectfully withheld any question about what this outburst meant. John steered the Hyperion directly to the center of the Moorgate and they where blasted at warp speed toward the nearest dying star. Percy Bysshe Shelly sat back with a confident comfort.
"It's time for the payload."
"Yes," John said, in both affirmation and command.
With a pull of a lever, the Fanny Brawne was released from the Hyperion's sub-torpedo chamber. It launched directly into the near-dead star and reignited the thing.
The writing-robot's sensors fried in the outburst of sunlight. Its head fell to the side and said only one thing:
" Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death"
It was something difficult to ignore but the crew did their best.
"Should we procede... Captain Keats, should we go home?" asked Percy Bysshe Shelly.
"Yes," was John's response, "And let us not talk of this again."
They jettisoned the writing-robot and headed back to New Spain where aged wine and cheese would greet their new sun.

(500) Days of Summer FanFic

Tom Hansen legally changed his surname to Handsome this morning. It's (510). He just met Autumn for lunch. They shared a chutney-cucumber salad sandwich that he picked up on the way. She got the job at the architecture firm. He made her a card that read, "congratulations, I guess I should stick to card writing." She was annoyed that he passively blamed her for his failure and this led to them not speaking from (504 -509). He realized that she was right and he wasn't happy for her success and also that he's lousy at making cards. This one, like all his others was a pale purple with white letters.
On (504 1/2) also known as his "clever play on numbers day" he decided to speak with McKenzie, his friend and on again/off again coworker. McKenzie has changed and instead of only talking about Tom Hansen's problems, he now talks about his own.
"I've been on a lot of first dates, but not a lot of seconds," he starts, "I think that makes me more of a loser."
Tom Hansen doesn't know how to talk about anyone’s relationships other than his own and is actually a little put-off by this change in McKenzie. Later that night he will write, "I need new friends" on his bedroom chalkboard. The same bedroom chalk board that nearly killed him on (503) when he woke up with his lungs filled with dust after he drunkenly wrote and erased both a break-up letter to Autumn and a Last Will and Testament. He now dreadfully refers to this day as (Self-Judgment Day).
"I'm going to go listen to New Order and wonder why no one has ever heard of The Magnetic Fields," Tom Hansen said before leaving his own apartment. This confused McKenzie. One, he was now stuck in Tom Hansen's apartment, and, two, everyone he has ever met has heard of The Magnetic Fields. The realization that Tom Hansen was full of himself was too much. He decided to leave the apartment knowing that there would be no way for him to lock the door. But first he took every one of Tom Hansen's Beatles albums and left a note that read "I never heard of The Beatles, thanks for sharing, sincerely, A. Thief." McKenzie felt better about himself than he ever had in his entire life.
(509). Autumn, in a moment of brilliance, thought that all she would have to do to get Tom Hansen to legally change his last name to "Handsome" would be to merely suggest it. (511). Rachel Hansen, Tom Hansen's little - but wise for her age - sister, thinks that Autumn is hilarious and they talk about how it's actually not Rachel who is so bright but Tom who is so dim. Rachel knows that Autumn is going to dump Tom. She doesn't tell him as she could use any excuse to have to ride to downtown LA and not be in bed by 10pm. This affords her the ability to watch "SouthLAnd" at Tom's place.
(537). It's been weeks since Autumn broke up with Tom Handsome and this is the part where he finds a time machine. (-1).
"Holy Shit," says Tom aloud in his bathroom.
(503). Tom goes up to Summer and asks her about a book she's reading. Tom secretly crushes his own foot for still not having read "The Picture of Dorian Gray." He had so much time to do this. Why did he let spite get in the way? It's still a classic and it might tell him something about Summer. Anyway, now he has nothing to really ask her about. He stares blankly at her as he realizes that with his time machine he can still read it and come back to this point in time. (520). "Oh, I should tell the world about this Oscar Wilde, I wonder why no one has heard of him. Summer is so on top of things for knowing who he is. I love Summer. I LOVE Summer!" (503). Tom goes up to Summer, reading "The Picture of Dorian Gray."
"I think that book is really cool," he says. They make-out. That night he asks her to marry him. She agrees. They watch "The Science of Sleep" together and when the guy yells at the girl for not finishing anything, and she's like 'actually I finished this thing' Summer and Tom look at each other and are so glad that they'll never have an argument like that. (500). They're in Paris talking about architecture. (503). Tom cannot cough up the dust. It hits him that it's all been a life-flashing-before-his-eyes hallucination, a crash of reality and expectation. There is no time machine, and there never will be. Summer didn't like him. Autumn didn't like him. And now he will fall.

For Tax Reasons: Wash and Resize

So someone in For Tax Reasons has been looking at my site and actually PERSONALLY delivered one of the new TSHIRTS. I feel like Asuka being given the production line Evas before anyone else!

I don't want to post a picture of it because it's still a secret but I can tell you that it has 2 holes for either arm, a hole for my waist, a hole for my head, and a whole lot of fun.

If you want to see it, I'll be writing in my apartment today and I might get a coffee on Steinway Street. I'll be wearing glasses.