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Original stories by Shmolnick that humorously explore the dark side of humanity.

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An Audience with Lord Porkington

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Photo I took at the beach


Cubist Rambling

I am a cubist.

The cube is my home base, my castle, my world. The cube is all. The cube is the center of my universe. I live inside the cube. I live for the cube. The cube is everything. I am dedicated to my cube and my cube is dedicated to me.

Four walls of light gray protect me from the scourge of humanity surrounding me. In the bosom of my cube, I am warm and I am safe. The pale light reflects softly off the multicolored patterns that color the walls of the cube. It is a neutral light, not too bright and not too dim. It casts a sufficient but unremarkable light upon the space within the cube.

The cube is my nest. The cube is my room. The cube is my life.

I perform my ritual inspection of the cube's defenses. The walls are high, high enough to protect me from direct attack from hostile neighbors. The one weakness in the cube's defenses is the absence of a door. A simple opening in one wall allows entry and exit. Vigilance is required to maintain the defense of that opening.

I feel the edges of the opening with sturdy but nervous fingers; all is well. No breaches appear to have occurred overnight. That is good news.

Continuing my inspection, I peer over the battlements at the immediate region. I peek around the corner of the cube's opening. All is quiet. I fear it is early, though, and the neighbors must soon begin their curious machinations.

The cube must be defended. I am strong in the defense of my cube. It must nourished, cared for, protected. The cube must not be breached. The cube must maintain. The cube's welfare is paramount. The cube is my raison d'etre.

The cube is all-wise and all-knowing. The cube feeds me when I hunger, waters me when I thirst, comforts me when I ail. The cube is my best friend. The cube is my teacher, my cleric, my god. I worship the cube. I live for the cube.

The morning inches forward.

The neighbors have all but arrived, their monotonous droning disturbing the peace and quiet of the cube. The cube is confident, unperturbed by the noise pollution which assaults it. The cube knows I am here to defend it. The neighbors maintain a safe distance from the cube. They also know I am here to defend the cube.

Silent alarms shatter the still of the morning. I swivel the command chair to present the initial defense of the cube entryway. I watch steely-eyed as a band of barbarian tribeswomen shuffle noisily. Their squawking is high-pitched and annoying, but I do not speak their tongue. I wonder suspiciously at their jabbering. Are they planning an assault on my cube?

They pass on by, directing glances of greeting at me. I return the glance, not wanting to rile the barbarians this early. No assault is forthcoming on this morning. I breathe a sight of relief and swivel back to my command position.


2006 Michael S. Cohen

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Almost 200 original cartoons by Shmolnick, including art created using Windows Live Messenger.

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The material in this section is intended for adults only, and even then, not for the faint-hearted. You can expect extreme weirdness, excessive sex, violence, and a host of horrors, albeit presented for humorous effect.

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Six of my latest tunes on the Music page!