Spoken language; it's what separates us from the roving clans of cannibal mimes.

Cerebro doesn't actually boost Xavier's mental powers or detect mutant life signs; it just lets him access public, hospital, and police records really fast and makes the professor feel useful.

Athiests who are repulsed by the idea of joining Cthulhu's cult generally say "Ick! Theology!"

Weft and warped, filtered and fitted, the crystalline fractures expunge cardamom spores from the silent ether. They are gathered, collected, and left to putrefy over one's own agency, saturating our assumed destiny with rancid spices. It is only in this form that it, agency, is worth using; all others are too frail, and broken futures are fed to ( Read more... )

No, I'm not feeling crankled; I just don't have cankles.

Finally having overcome his fears, the black cat dons the snorkel and hides in the seaweed. Endless fish, skittering crab, maybe even some shrimp; all his to chase and feast upon to his tiny heart's content. Nothing can stop him now.

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Powdered wooden engines inject tin ochre notes into the misanthropic morals of lunar butterflies.

"It's not entropy," he says as we slide up the descending granite stairs. I notice that his leg slumps and fully disconnects from his body. There is no blood; I suspect he hasn't had any for some time ( Read more... )