The Hallway Mirror

(Note: This story is based on a dream that my mother had when she was five years old. All thanks go to her for providing me with this story)

There was something wrong with the mirror in the house’s second floor hallway. The hallway itself was normal, if rather dark, with no natural light and not mirrormuch artificial light paired with dark flooring and walls. The hallway was not a place in and of itself, simply a space one passes through to get to the connected rooms. The only concession to decoration was a full-length mirror midway down, recessed into the wall as if it were another doorway.

Mary hated that mirror.

Mary, five years old, had lived in the house with her parents for two months and she had to make the trip past that mirror several times a day. She had spent the first two months anxious of the mirror but not sure why, however she was soon to find out what was wrong with it. One night she woke up in the middle of the night needing to go to the bathroom, and while she was walking down the hallway she glanced into the mirror and saw her reflection continue to walk straight ahead without stopping. Mary froze and stared at the mirror. She blinked a moment later and there her reflection was, standing with a shocked expression, mirroring her perfectly and looking directly at her. Mary stared at her own reflection for a moment, and then broke eye contact and dashed away as fast as she could. The reflection turned its head to watch her go, and then walked out of frame.
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God Hates Assholes

Today a man came to my campus in order to preach intolerance, judgment, and hatred. And he did it under the guise of love and benevolence.

Because, as we all know, Jesus is full of hate...
I’m sure that you’re familiar with the type; people who, for some reason, seem to have nothing better to do than misinterpret their own doctrine of love and acceptance to be an encouragement to be hateful and intolerant and wish to share their vision of a “better” world with all of the poor misguided sinners in the vicinity. People who wave around signs and slogans and anger. People who think that folks who do not subscribe to their particular flavor of batshit cultish insanity operating under the guise of true Christianity are going to burn in Hell for eternity. People who think that women should always dress modestly and shouldn’t be able to exercise their rights. In short, Fundamentalist Christian assholes.

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Surgery! A Review of Repo! The Genetic Opera

Hey everybody! My apologies, but there will not be a story on this fine Monday. I’m still recovering from my wisdom tooth surgery and, while foolish me thought that I’d be able to get a proper story done on Sunday, I’m still not finished with it. Short stories will return on Friday.

repo_the_genetic_opera_xlgSpeaking of surgery, have you ever heard of a movie called Repo! The Genetic Opera? Because I watched it again yesterday and it is both a fantastic movie (though not without flaws) and completely appropriate for fresh-out-of-surgery me to watch, given that it’s a dystopian rock opera about a Not Too Distant Future™ where the population has become obsessed with surgery and people who cannot pay their surgical bills are hunted down by murderous organ reposessors.

This 2008 film from Darren Lynn Bousman and the producers of Saw is a true rock opera, with essentially zero dialog that is not sung in one form or another. This seems like a very strange choice (and it is), but it works masterfully to set the tone of the film, which is dark and bloody and dramatically over-the-top. The music itself is also excellent, save one song (“Seventeen”), and will likely be stuck in your head for quite a while. “Zydrate Anatomy” and “Mark it Up ” are my two personal favorites, but they are all pretty excellent.

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Some Real Tough Shit: A Review of Kevin Smith’s Tough Sh*t

(NOTE: My apologies for the lack of a regularly scheduled short story. I had my wisdom teeth out yesterday and am still recovering from the surgery. Instead, here is a book review that I had been saving for Wednesday. Regular short stories will resume on Monday.)

I just finished reading what was perhaps the most inspirational book that I have ever read. And it was written by, to quote the man himself, “that fat guy who did Clerks.”tough-sh-t1

Tough Sh*t: Life Advice from a Fat, Lazy Slob who Did Good (2012) is the most recent book from thoroughly divisive filmmaker Kevin Smith of Clerks fame. Collected within are various stories from the life of the man himself, as well as the stories of his films and the rise and fall of the “indie as fuck” studio Miramax, which he refers to as “The House that Quentin Built.”

Tough Sh*t is, despite my usual dislike of the term, a thoroughly inspirational book for anybody who aspires to be an artist of any sort. Early in the book, Smith says that the best piece of advice he ever received was given to him when he told his sister that he wanted to be a filmmaker. His sister replied “So be a filmmaker.” This is the point where Kevin Smith learned perhaps the most important lesson in becoming an artist, that you have to consider yourself an artist first and foremost. Either you are a filmmaker or you are not a filmmaker. Either you are a writer or you are not a writer. If you have a dream, pick up that dream and run with it. become what you want to be.

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