Strange Galaxy is Coming Soon

My Strange Galaxy is not Star Trek: humanity is celebrated but not as humanism. My Strange Galaxy is not Star Wars: providence is not an impersonal Force balanced by being divided against itself. My Strange Galaxy is not Dr. Who: it is not social commentary. My Strange Galaxy is not Mass Effect: individuality, not diversity, is the Paragon path.

The great space operas are worthy of their greatness. Star Trek inspires technology. Star Wars makes us mindful of good and evil. Dr. Who gives us a look at reality from an outside perspective. Mass Effect encourages us to come together for the common good.

Strange Galaxy is a wonderful space opera… but it is not yet great. For all its fiction, art, games and music it is an obscurity. It does not languish, mind you. There is freedom in being unknown. Strange Galaxy grows according to inspiration whereas the greats are bound to the whims of the uninspired.

I am striving to make Strange Galaxy great. Yes, I shall mourn the loss of liberty but alas, light must shine if it is to be more than darkness. I have much to say and say it in the telling of Strange Galaxy. The brilliance must glare for all to see.

Strange Galaxy is a space opera without spaceships. Magic is not in the guise of something else. Swords and guns are equals but not in the same hands. There is continuity but not as a particular story. The fate of the universe is not decided by singular adventures. The characters are not a specific cast.

Strange Galaxy is a fictional world of many worlds as a real world. The characters, human or otherwise, are personalities living their lives for better or worse. The wars are practical ventures, even if waged ineptly, for resources and influence. The struggles of good against evil are those rare moments of individual courage and gumption.

The space opera is the fantasy genre set in an interstellar fairyland. The magic is “science” and the fairies are “aliens” but despite the pretense the stories are fairy tales. I am not a pretender. Though my Strange Galaxy is fictional, it is not disingenuous. It is imagination in all sincerity. Enjoy.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/40777054/Official-Strange-Galaxy-Collection

The Nurse and Pyramid Head

Silent Hill is a game that became more than a game. One of its weaker monsters became more than forgettable cannon-fodder. One of its lesser bosses became the greatest of them all.

The Nurse was introduced as little more than a living zombie but became a mainstay; as a faceless monster with shapely curves in a miniskirt. Her hunched posture was replaced with twitchy spasms. Originally envisioned as a native of our world lost to the madness of an unreality, she became indigenous to that unreality.

Pyramid Head was just a secondary boss bound to the storyline of the first sequel yet he broke loose and became the poster boy for the franchise. Originally intended to come and go in one game, he somehow became our everlasting bogeyman.

Conscientious malcontents may dismiss the Nurse as only memorable because she is sexy… though most things sexy are forgotten. The irony that she is as grotesque as she is comely and as monstrous as she is feminine is a fine balance not to be taken for granted.

Supposed experts may cite that “Pyramid Head” is not the character’s real name. They may remind us that there were three of him and he was nothing more than a figment of one character’s guilt. Alas, the fictional Otherworld of Silent Hill would be at a loss without him.

That which is excellent is that which exceeds what is expected. That the Nurse and Pyramid Head are memorable and inspiring is irrefutable whether you like them or not. They were little fish in a big pond that ate the bigger fish. They have proven their excellence.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/art/Expendable-Female-Baddies-511748797

Scream Queens and Nameless Baddies

Heroes, masterminds, elite henchmen/henchwomen and sidekicks are the players in adventure fiction. The damsels in distress endure among them but have since become marginalized. There are also the ubiquitous foot soldiers of villainy.

A conscientious effort has been made to replace the damsel in distress with the heroine. It is assumed that any female protagonist incapable of thrashing baddies in her own right is a misogynistic stereotype. Men who want to be spanked endorse this effort but for their own reasons.

The Scream Queen is the damsel in distress in horror movies. She is beautiful and virtuous and in peril. For all her helplessness and screaming we are hopeful that she shall survive. That said: we do enjoy all the cringing and screaming.

The foot soldiers of villainy are hopelessly outmatched nonentities. Pathetic by design they are disinteresting by default. They are unworthy of notice unless there is something about them worth noticing. Mind you, it is simpleminded to divorce them from their niche.

The foot soldiers of villainy are not unlike the teenagers in horror movies. They are hopelessly witless and easily caught unawares for our grim amusement. They scream, grunt and groan and we are thrilled by the violence.

Sexy girls are the favorite teenagers in horror movies. For the foot soldiers of villainy to be comely females is just as appealing. No, nameless baddies need not be sexy girls to garner attention… but why not? The Amazons of Classical Mythology lost every battle and were slaughtered in droves. They were baddies, lest we forget.

The damsels in distress and foot soldiers of villainy are the hardest characters in adventure fiction to get right. Heroines are heroes. Turning a damsel in distress into a heroine is to bastardize both archetypes. The foot soldiers of villainy should never prove formidable against heroes. To be heroic in the classical sense is to be a warrior beyond mortal prowess.

A damsel need not fawn over a hero to love him. She need not be a warrior to have more than youth and beauty to offer. She can be a character without being a caricature.

The foot soldiers of villainy are what they are but can be so much more without even changing. They can have a name and remain anonymous. They can have a sleek or sexy look without being elite. They can be slaughtered in droves and still taken seriously. So long as they are a character in their own right they can be loved even as nonentities.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/favourites/

Really Fiction

Fiction, unlike reality, is whatever we want it to be. Ironically, much of our supposed reality is embellished and twisted to the point of being fiction. Alas, history and politics must become legend and propaganda to be interesting.

I do not and shall not bastardize history. I do not and shall not spout propaganda. I write fiction. My stories are the thrills of legend as they truly are. The meanings are the truth propaganda purports to tell. My fiction is all the fun without the pretense.

Reality is what it is regardless. Fiction is only ever what we regard. Good and evil. Sex and violence. Drama. Reality need not be fun but fiction must be.

Our legends, propaganda and fiction are the unreality we live in. Should we lose ourselves in them we become delusional. Should we find ourselves in them we are enlightened. For better or worse our reality is decided by our fantasies. Fiction may prove real after all.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/

Sexy

Sexy is a good thing. Seriously: how is anything better for not being sexy? Until disinteresting is a virtue, sexiness shall be good.

Prudish is boring. Vulgar is disgusting. Being bored or disgusted does nothing for me. I want sexy.

Looks are not the only thing sexy. A voice can be as alluring as a form. A nuance can be as suggestive as a tease. Context can make even unassuming sexy.

Lest we forget, sex and violence are the thrills of our art and fiction. When has tame ever thrilled us? Sex and violence intensify each other exponentially. Their communion is the perfect storm.

Sexy is sexy does whether consummated or not. It is the arousal, not the act that is the sensuality. To savor the yearning is to be thrilled whereas to be spent is to be exhausted.

Sexy is a good thing. It is interesting. It is thrilling. It is beautiful whether lovely or hideous. It is aspect at its best.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/

Game of Souls

Few lives are precious. Many lives are worthless. You choose your value, not by pride but by action.

An evil man on a mission is better than the many who do nothing. A good man busy doing good is best of all. Take heed: neither sinister nor good are ever idle. Only the sheep are content to graze.

The mindless are too simple to give thought to their deeds. They delight in petty things and wanton mischief. Masterminds tell them what to think and how to feel and the mindless obey, believing the thoughts and feelings to be their own.

The good are never mindless. They hear and see but are too thoughtful for their thoughts and feelings to be other than their own. They do good because they care to do so, never in lust, fear or obedience.

The struggle of good against evil is the few who care for the sake of caring against the many who do not and their sinister masters. The struggle is neither political nor philosophical. It is not decided by authority nor consensus. Souls are the warriors, the battleground and the prize. Choosing who you are, personally and individually, is the struggle. All else follows.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/journal/Like-and-Dislike-565648109

Cheap Labor of Villainy

The anonymous baddies of fiction are meant to amuse us by being the easy victims of heroic violence. Whether as slapstick clowns or the small fries of something gritty their role is what it is regardless.

Men are the usual foot soldiers of villainy. Monsters and robots are also popular. Female goons, human or otherwise, are a rarity indeed. Alas, whether human, monster or robot, male or female, these expendable characters provide a common villainy to be put to shame.

In reality the sinister are too few to commit the atrocities of the world. They need vast numbers of cheap labor to do their dirty work. It is the common folk, male and female, anonymous and petty, who get their hands dirty.

Fiction's foot soldiers of villainy are reality's many following their crowd to do evil. They are nameless because they are insignificant. Their fate is unceremonious because their doom is inconsequential. They are a whole lot of nothing... which is why we are amused.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/40777054/Official-Strange-Galaxy-Collection

Sublimation

Rape, murder and war: the horrors of the human condition. Our reality would be better off without them. Alas, the horrors of reality are the thrills of fantasy.

Baddies killing innocents and heroes killing baddies are staples of fiction. Why not? Murderers are the ultimate villains. Avengers are the ultimate heroes. After all, baddies who never rape or kill are not so bad and heroes who never avenge are not so heroic.

Sex and violence: primal and intense. Nothing tame shall ever be as thrilling.

The genres adventure and horror are, have always been and shall always be the most popular fiction. Why? They are usually sexy and violent. The genres romance and comedy have their place but never on top unless they are themes within adventure and or horror.

Rape, murder and war: the thrills of the human imagination. Our fantasies would be insipid without them.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/

Weak or Strong but Always Sexy

Women as warriors: not so long ago the mainstream was uncomfortable with the idea-- despite the everlasting popularity of the Amazons and the historical reality of Joan of Arc and Lyudmila Pavlichenko. The damsel in distress was much preferred.

Times changed and the once favored damsel in distress has since fallen out of favor. She is now loathed, actually. The heroine is now the acceptable female protagonist. Alas, the mainstream is so fickle.

Women as villains: not so long ago the mainstream adamantly preferred the seductress. She was seldom the boss and had a tendency to fall in love with the hero. Her story may be tragic so that she was not entirely to blame for her evil.

Times changed and the seductress fell out of favor. The assertive dominatrix replaced her-- when the mainstream embraced the pleasures of being spanked.

Women are sexy. Whether protagonist or antagonist, weak or strong, female characters have always been the sensuality of fiction. They always will be for otherwise would be unnatural. Enjoy.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451925

Lives in the Balance

There are the few who make a difference and the many that do not. Station does not determine this distinction: There are the many among those in power who live and die insignificant and there are the few among the lowly who prove noteworthy.

In fiction the important characters never die or do so dramatically. Unimportant characters are slaughtered in droves and we are grimly amused no matter the body count. Reality is not so different.

In fiction a hero is loved for his heroism and a villain for his flair. The anonymous, even if granted token names, are entirely expendable whether supposedly good or bad. Reality is no different.

We celebrate our fictional heroes because they live and die for things worth fighting for. We enjoy our fictional masterminds for bothering to make evil interesting. We appreciate the slaughter of our fictional bystanders and cannon-fodder because their grim fate is the only thing that makes them interesting. Again, reality is no different.

Death of the Scarred Warrior

What if our science and religion are debased aspects of an older culture? Our “diversity” may very well be the strewn rubble of what was once a glorious civilization.

Suppose there were originally three habitable worlds in our solar system. What if the asteroid belt is the shattered remains of one of them? Mars was a moon of the hapless planet and was blasted and flooded by its destruction. The sudden waters receded only to be followed by a drought that never ends. The lush green of a living moon became the barren red of a barely habitable new planet. Only the hearty and resourceful survived to be Martians. Severity became a way of life. The World of War was born.

Suppose the humanity of prehistoric Earth and Mars were not so different than the humanity of today. Struggles for wealth and influence escalated into wars. Things got out of hand and weapons of mass-destruction were employed. Hyper-dimensional physics initiated a massive plasma bolt that tore open the atmosphere of Mars as it bore into the mantle and shorted the planet’s core. The Red Planet has been dead ever since. Earth survived but was devastated. Our prehistory has since become myth and legend.

Maybe, maybe not. Whatever happened occurred whether we know or believe or not. The "scarred warrior" of our old tales may very well be the telling of a history barely within our memory. The idea does not debunk our science and religion because our science and religion are the very things that give us the hint of what may have happened. Never fear to ponder.

Stormtroopers, Amazons and Concubines

The Imperial Stormtrooper is deservedly the most popular foot soldier of villainy in all fiction. Not only does he have a catchy name and a sleek look but he enjoys a relevant context.

The Imperial Stormtrooper is selfless, loyal and obedient. He is selfless because he accepts that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of individuals. He is loyal because he believes in law and order. He is obedient because there is neither law nor order unless they are enforced.

Until the Imperial Stormtrooper the Amazon of Classical Mythology was the most popular expendable baddie. Comely and aggressive she exemplified sex and violence as one and the same. Though usually belligerent she was never particularly villainous.

A formidable villain is assured attention: the wise and witless alike finding power and prowess interesting. The little baddies are typically nameless and insignificant, thus, are seldom worthy of recognition. That said, even a lowly thing is not at its best if turned into something else.

The Stormtrooper is his mask and armor. The army of the Amazon is her identity. Stormtroopers and Amazons are readily slaughtered but so long as their numbers endure they prove immortal. As many they garner our interest and hold our attention.

I am a writer, artist and game designer. I created an army of clone women for my Strange Galaxy universe. Like the Stormtroopers they are selfless, loyal and obedient. Like the Amazons they are a nation and army of women who are usually hostile but never sinister. Like their templates my clone women are readily slaughtered combatants. Their qualities are unassuming. Enjoy.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ShawnOToole

The Yississ War: Reviewed

            “A huge naked corpse-woman with six breasts and tentacles for legs is the chief antagonist of Shawn O’Toole’s The Yississ War, which I’m prepared to go out on a flailing zombie limb here (confused metaphor and all) and call a modern masterpiece.” 

            -- Jason Kehe, Wired

http://www.wired.com/2015/06/kindle-ebook-review-yississ-war

If you want something new then you want something unusual… if you are truly hoping for more than a refresh of the usual.

I am a writer of weird fiction. My work is not strange for the sake of novelty. I am inspired by what is already available. Alas, by love of the tried and true I am stirred to write things new and unique.

Like most people, my favorite fiction is heroic adventure stories. I revel in the daring and prowess of the protagonists. I am thrilled by the dramatic violence. Comely female characters make it all sexy. Elements of horror accentuate every thrill; violent and sexual. Magic makes it all fantastic. Speculative science proves interesting if plausible and sheer fun if ridiculous.

I am an artist and game designer but a writer first and foremost. It is the story of a game or picture that captures me. It is the drama of character interactions that make me care.

I wrote a story that is but one of many that are my Strange Galaxy universe. The Yississ War is the tale of an army of clone women battling the monstrous forces of a demon living in rotting flesh. A mortal man and his “army” of three superheroes ally with the clone women to save the galaxy. Weird? Totally. Stupid? Not at all.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/436015

Makanthropos

What if the asteroid belt really is the fragments of an exploded planet? The notion is flippantly dismissed because it cannot be deduced how such a phenomenon could occur naturally. What if the event was a deliberate action? Why not? Is not our own world threatened by weapons of mass-destruction? We know there are ways to annihilate beyond all reason.

The fossils of extinct apes are no more proof of human evolution than the bones of gorillas, chimpanzees and orangutans are human remains. Unusual human fossils are no more unusual than the skeletons of pigmies and professional basketball players. I was born with six toes on one foot… and not because we are “evolving” more digits. Actually, we are losing parts, not evolving new ones. A theory of human devolution is more in sync with the actual evidence. Yes, we have our growing technology but remember: humanity built its pyramids without our modern toys. We are what we are and as such we make our own trappings.

One is the quality of existence. All quantities, even those fractured, deficient or of opposing polarities, cannot exist unless derived and maintained by the absolute one. Nothing is simply nothing at all. Giving nothing a name does not give it substance for if it is truly nothing then there is nothing to substantiate.

What if the Big Bang was a human voice and the universe a human creation? We imagine. We create. We give meaning to what would otherwise be meaningless. What if there is a God and he is the first of us? Man may very well be the measure of all things, indeed.

Animals can only do what comes naturally. Yes, we may teach them tricks but we do so by manipulating their innate inclinations. We may even breed them or otherwise genetically tweak them to our own ends. We may soon design new creatures entirely. We may even change ourselves, for better or worse. We are the only creature who can entertain such notions.

Good is flow and balance. Evil is when flow is stifled into stagnation or balance teeters towards chaos. Good restores itself by counteracting. Flow is restored by creating an imbalance. Balance is restored by channeling flow. Alas, all things are clean of themselves.

A war preceded us. All our wars are offshoots of this one and ongoing conflict. Most of the fighting is evil against evil: elites vying for power. Vastly outnumbered and hopelessly outgunned the good find themselves fighting alongside the wicked that the lesser evils may overcome the greater. Ultimately, however, the strongest evil shall devour all others and good alone shall remain to fight it. Numbers and firepower are decisive in the material plane of existence but they prove impotent in a clash of spirit.

Every man is one man. He is less or he is more than the sum of his parts. His nature and experiences shape what he is but who he is must be of his own making. A man who is only his nature and experiences is a nonentity. His life is insignificant and his death inconsequential. A man who strives, for good or for evil, is on a path that shall take him beyond where he finds himself. Whether heroic or villainous he shall make a difference. His death shall not be the end of his doings.

Imagining Sex and Violence

We all imagine being naughty with someone we find attractive. We vent by envisioning excessive violence. We may fancy being virile, seductive or fearless. We love stories about a hero slaughtering baddies and bedding damsels. We enjoy tales about people like us being stalked and murdered, especially if there is a “scream queen” to be had.

We want our girls comely but relentless bumping and grinding proves restless and becomes desperate. We relish the thrill of vicarious violence but even intensity is uninspiring and becomes boring if meaningless.

A woman is naturally sexy. Her form, voice, mannerisms and eccentricities arouse needless of intent. A shapely physique, a soft and mellifluous voice, graceful gestures and endearing quirks assure an erotic appeal too unassuming to exhaust its beneficiaries.

Violence is naturally thrilling. The very idea of someone willfully inflicting harm upon another is rife with spiritual implications, especially if the intent is to rape or kill. Vulgarity is neither artful nor inspiring. An implied assault or bloodless killing is a nuance of violence too understated to distract from its dramatic connotations.

To be prudish is to deny pleasure. To be libertine is to squander enthusiasm. Indulge but artfully. Sublimate every thought and feeling into a creative endeavor. Appreciate fantasies of sex and violence for what they are: imaginative intensity.

Strange Galaxy: Good Against Evil

My Strange Galaxy is unusual in that it celebrates the struggle of good against evil as a little thing that makes all the difference. An individual, not a faction, is the champion of freedom and justice. Personal friendship, not impersonal idealism, is the ray of hope that burns away the cold darkness.

In both reality and my fictional reality indifferent mediocrity is the norm but sinister intent and heroic gumption are the decisive forces. The excellent few, good or evil, are the vim and vigor of the universe. The insignificant many are nonentities whose alignments are divided among the few.

Politics and war are not the struggle of good against evil. In both reality and my fiction the struggles of factions are survival of the fittest in play. It is only natural that the wily outwit the gullible, the assertive dominate the timid, the limber outmaneuver the lumbering, the skillful outmatch the inept and the strong overpower the weak. The universe cleanses itself by fire.

Cruelty is not always evil for evil is most often thwarted by fear. Mercy is not always good for to suffer the wicked is to condemn the innocent to suffer. Freedom is no more liberty than it is slavery. Justice is no more law than it is crime. The freedom and justice of Strange Galaxy are what they actually are: Freedom is to sow of one’s own accord. Justice is to reap what one has freely sown.

For all the rape and slaughter my Strange Galaxy is spiritual and thoughtful. It is neither an escape from reality nor is it cynical. Good is stronger than evil for it is substance whereas evil is nothing more than nothing where there should be something. Strange Galaxy, for all its murder and mayhem, really is the triumph of good against evil. Enjoy.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/477393

Thralldom Forever

Slaves are always slaves whether they have a master or not. Simply put: whosoever resigns their fate to whatever shall be ruled by whim or whomever.

An individual may rise to his own liberation but never the masses. The anonymous many may be led but never to freedom. Only individuals can be free. Slaves without masters can only be useless.

Freedom and Justice are the every imagination of the thoughts of my heart continually. I know by bearing witness that freedom is only ever one person having insights and gumption. Justice is only ever one reaping what one has personally sown.

Often the top should fall but seldom should the bottom rise. The mighty must fear or else they are tyrannical but the lowly must fear or else they are unruly. May master and slave alike forever languish for their ways are the languor of our weary world.

Mirror, Mirror

Many women fantasize about being raped and murdered. Most men find the image of a woman bound and gagged sexy. No woman wants to be raped or murdered and no good man would be happy to find a woman bound and gagged. Fantasy mirrors reality.

A reflection is the phantom of reality as its opposite. Women fantasize about being raped and murdered for the same reason they do not want to be raped and murdered: they value their lives and dignity. Men are naturally aroused by the idea of women being bound and gagged but only because women are their natural interest.

Fantasy is for pleasure. Intention is for reality.

I am a writer, artist and game designer. My specialty is adventure fiction with an emphasis on the silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs scenarios. The victims of these fantasies are usually female antagonists as expendable foot soldiers. Like the Amazons of Classical Mythology they are readily slaughtered or sexually enslaved.

My favorite fictional characters have always been the useless foot soldiers of villainy. Comely females always arouse my interest. When the two are one and the same I love them dearly... yet I imagine and enjoy their inglorious fate. I like what I see in the mirror.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/518747

Diversity Does Not Compute

Though two-plus-two always equals four "diversity" tells us otherwise. It equates without an equation and sums without a tally. It claims quality is subjective: Stupid is wisdom if viewed from the perspective of an idiot. Bad is good to those who do bad things. Excellence is unfair for pride is its own reward.

"Diversity" picks and chooses at a whim but such is the luxury of ignoring reality at your leisure. When good and evil are whatever you want them to be then truth itself becomes arbitrary... but not in reality.

Two-plus-two always equals four. Bad math does not give you more or less of anything real. Madness does not become sanity by raving. "Diversity" is a political sophistry and nothing more. The reality of "survival of the fittest" shall burn it away in a holocaust of death, rape and destruction... or sanity shall prevail.

Happy Memorial Day

Monsters are real. Vampires feed off of others. Werewolves tear people apart. Zombies overwhelm and devour as a mindless mob.

Villains are real. Masterminds plot and scheme. Henchmen and henchwomen follow orders to do evil. Hooligans bully and vandalize.

Heroes are real. A hero will drive a stake through a vampire's heart, shoot a werewolf with a silver bullet and fight off zombies so his friends can escape. A hero is the archenemy of the mastermind. He slaughters henchmen and henchwomen in droves. He pummels hooligans.

There are always more monsters and villains than there are heroes. The wicked vastly outnumber the good. Alas, the hero prevails.

Whosoever does not have a leg to stand on shall fall for anything. Whosoever does not have eyes to see shall see only darkness. Whosoever is deaf shall not hear. Whosoever is dead shall not feel or do anything. The wicked are missing parts or the parts are broken. Their light is dim or out. Their temperature is lukewarm or deathly cold. Heroes bury the dead so that the living shall not be sickened by the rot.

A hero does not always win. He may be slain by even the least of villainy for all flesh is weak and doomed. Alas, unlike monsters and villains a hero is a man of spirit. His life shines by a fire not fed by worldly kindling. He shall die as he has lived: doing good. The wicked are doomed to perish in every way for their way is death. The hero shall live forever in the light from whence he came.

My Three Favorite Themes

We all have our tastes. My own are my favorites, of course. As a reader, viewer, writer, artist, game designer and game player my favorite themes are silencing the sentry, hero versus throngs and useless henchwomen. I especially like them together as parts of a whole.

I have always found silencing the sentry grimly amusing and contextually erotic. Its ironies are its distinct appeal: vigilant yet oblivious, armed yet helpless, easy yet violent and impersonal yet intimate. The significance is the insignificance of the victim. The kill must be quick, easy and inglorious or the moment is without its thematic luster.

My favorite combat is always the hero versus throngs. It is the individual battling relentless waves of mediocrity. The common withers in droves as personal prowess is finally unleashed. Hot burns through lukewarm in a thrilling clash of one or few against many.

I have always loved fiction's foot soldiers of villainy. They live to die unceremoniously for our guiltless pleasure. The useless henchwoman is the sexy version of this expendable character. She is the comely victim of my beloved silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs. She is as much a girl as any heroine or villainous dominatrix but as one of the little people. She is as much a baddie as her twin brother and just as delightfully useless.

We like what we like. Our fancies are what they are regardless of what we suppose we should fancy. Shame is never inspiring. Inhibition is always stifling. To do what is best requires unabashed honesty and artful gumption.

I like what I like. I appreciate it when I find it. I do it my way when I create it. I never let enthusiasm go to waste. I have yet to exhaust mine. As I delve into my fancies I find them deeper than I anticipated. I keep digging, finding treasure all the while.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/477393

My Favorite Fictional Moments

The silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs are my favorite action-adventure scenarios. Both are individual excellence outmatching collective mediocrity.

My favorite silencing the sentry moment of all time was when I was browsing the pages of a Star Wars comic book. I happened upon a scene in which the large hands of Chewbacca were reaching for an unsuspecting Stormtrooper. The hands grabbed the sentry by his shoulder and helmet and snapped his masked face past the shoulder. The victim was left sprawled and forgotten as Chewbacca and friends made their escape.

The sentry was armed, armored and vigilant yet utterly useless. His violent death was inflicted with unceremonious ease. He was nothing to the hero who killed him and an expendable resource to the villains he served. Interestingly, he was only a baddie because he was following orders.

I shall never forget my grim amusement while watching the movie Where Eagles Dare. A crowd of German soldiers were hurrying up steps when suddenly finding themselves face-to-face with the intruder they sought. The startled throng hesitated only to be gunned down en masse. Interestingly, these men would later be harmless civilians had they survived the war.

I do not cheer for the little guy being little. The better man is always the bigger man and I want the best to win. I favor the silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs because they demonstrate the extraordinary putting the ordinary to shame. They are personal prowess besting the impersonal many.

I love heroes for being individuals who use their excellence to do good. I admire masterminds for having the gumption to do something big. As for helpless bystanders and useless thugs: I do not value their insignificant lives nor do I mourn their inconsequential deaths. Alas, even the useless can be put to good use: The helpless bystander is the screaming victim whose plight gives the hero selfless purpose. The useless thug is the cannon-fodder for acts of heroic violence.

The anonymous are smug in their anonymity. The worst evils are always committed by normal people following the rules to the letter. It is so much fun to see them spent as the disposable resource they really are.

You Are Legend

Most people are aimless and unappreciative. They feel entitled because life is unfair and righteous because they were wronged. Such people are useless or worse and worthless if not costly. They are the impersonal many who live and die in vain.

There are the few who gain insight and develop a sense of purpose. Whether such are good or evil they are righteous in their endeavors. They strive boldly and cannot be disheartened. They prove tireless even when weary. Such are the individuals who make a difference, for better or for worse.

Fiction is our waking dreams. Our legends are the world from our spiritual perspective. Everything we imagine is our fancy of something real.

Adventure and horror are, were and shall always be humanity's favorite legends. The two are often one and the same. They are only different in that horror is the grim fate of protagonists and adventure that of antagonists.

The anonymous many of the real world are the helpless bystanders and useless thugs of fiction. The individuals who make names for themselves are the heroes, sidekicks, masterminds and killers. As for the monsters of adventure and horror, they are either characters already mentioned or impersonal forces of nature.

What would you be as a fictional character? Your pride may claim "hero" or "mastermind" or "killer" or even "monster" but who are you really?

Grimly Amusing

Dead sexy. Whether anonymous bystanders or useless thugs we are grimly amused by the slaying of unimportant characters.

The Red Shirts of Star Trek are loved for falling easy prey to strange horrors. The Stormtroopers of Star Wars are revered for being the objects of heroic violence. The scream queens of horror are the sexiness thereof. We admire our heroes and respect our villains but we relish our victims.

Sexuality and violence are intrinsically linked. Easy violence is casual sex. An anonymous victim is a one-night-stand.

Killing is thrilling and fiction is rarely intense without it. The silencing the sentry is an unusual theme in that it is meant to thrill but calmly. It is a predator-prey scenario in which one character easily and impersonally subdues another. The distinct appeal is the contrast that what is unceremonious for the assailant is tragic for the victim. The ease of the kill is an inglorious fate indeed.

Monsters are masculine even if female. Victims are feminine even if male. The hapless Red Shirt, for example, is the "vagina" and what kills him is the "penis" in what is thematically the heterosexual dynamic. Such would not be the case if the Red Shirt enjoyed a fighting chance. He is "helpless" because the feminine is anatomically passive. The "penis" does not require consent to penetrate. The prey must be vulnerable by its nature. The victims must be lambs before gathered for the slaughter.

A foot soldier of villainy is an expendable agent of someone else's evil. A bystander is a faceless face in a crowd. We are amused by the deaths of the nameless because their lives are inconsequential. They cringe and scream fearing a doom that shall make no difference. Their bodies are heaped into piles to be lost in the crowds from whence they came. In a strange way they deserve their fate... because they are nonentities.

Who and What We Are

Reality is a lackluster drudgery locked in a cycle of vainglorious futility. History is embellished as legend or propaganda. Science and religion are whatever we want them to be. Stronger, smarter, faster and tougher are the worldly standard by which some are better than others.

I am not a man of the world. I am not a minion nor a mastermind. I do not live in the past, real or imagined. My life and what I make of it are my reality.

Most lives are worthless. Never bother with those who do not bother. Never give to those who only take. To be wronged does not make one righteous nor to be needy make one worthy. Bless or curse only that one may reap what one has sown.

A good does not beget evil. What seems friendly only to prove unfriendly is like poison in an otherwise good drink.

Whosoever cares shall always care and shall act accordingly. Whosoever does not care may do good but only when it suits them. People cannot change: they are only better or worse of who they truly are.

What we are is the nature we are made of. Our experiences can only shape what is already there. Who we are is the smallest part of us... but it is the part that makes all the difference. We are good or evil by who we are. We decide who we are by the actions of our own volition.

The Love Clones

The Red Shirts of Star Trek fall easy prey to strange horrors. The Imperial Stormtroopers of Star Wars are so delightfully useless against heroes. The proud Amazons of Classical Mythology are readily slaughtered or sexually enslaved. These are the inspirations for the Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen, the hapless clone women of Strange Galaxy.

It has often been suggested that my Red Shirt-Stormtrooper-Amazons would somehow be more interesting if I gave them a fighting chance. Alas, my fancies do not lend themselves to conventional wisdom. My "Red Shirts" must fall easy prey to strange horrors. My "Stormtroopers" must prove useless against heroes. My "Amazons" must be readily slaughtered or sexually enslaved.

Armed yet helpless. Dutiful yet useless. Bold but hapless. These dramatic ironies are what I love about my inspirations. They are what distinguish them from other characters.

My Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen are an order of nuns cloned from one woman and endowed with her formative memories. They are selfless, loyal and obedient. Exploited as slaves they have since supplanted their masters in the very name of the dark deity used to control them. Cheap and easy to mass-produce the women are vast in number. Equipped with the resources and technology of an empire they have become a Galactic Power in their own right.

The Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen scour the galaxy for knowledge and resources. Their expeditions to uncharted worlds typically go missing. Their armies are readily defeated and seldom victorious. Their many soldiers captured are kept pregnant with monstrous hybrids.

As a writer if I want a hero I make a character heroic. If I want a villain I make a character villainous. If I want easy victims of heroic violence I mass-produce characters and use them as cannon-fodder. If I want underlings of villainy I make characters insignificant and servile. I do not create one thing to have another. I do not appreciate by considering something else.

I like what I like. I am not the only one inspired by my inspirations. I cannot do wrong doing what is already proven. I made something out of pure love. Enjoy.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/528774

Grim Clowns of Villainy

I love fiction's expendable antagonists. The silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs are my favorite action scenes. There is just something so appealing about anonymous baddies being slaughtered with ease and impunity.

A hero must strive if he is to outwit a mastermind or outfight a rival. Their contest is personal and its outcome decisive. Their final battle is to be savored and is expected to be melodramatic.

Lowly goons are sacrificial pawns: the cannon-fodder of villainy. They live and die for nefarious agendas hardly in their best interest. Unloved by their bosses and a nuisance to heroes they are a pathetic lot. It is righteously amusing and grimly satisfying to witness them being casually eliminated.

The foot soldiers of villainy are droll but can be threatening or even sexy. Lowly and anonymous they are as insignificant as bystanders. As the underlings of masterminds they are just as sinister. Like heroes they fight but unlike heroes they are hopelessly outmatched. When female they are damsels in distress but as victims of the heroes who would otherwise rescue them.

I love fiction's expendable antagonists. I favor them because they are characters unlike any other. They are the clowns of villainy we can take seriously... whenever it suits us.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/477393

The Few

Death, darkness and evil are the exact same thing: nothing. To consider nothing is to be mindless. To care about nothing is to be heartless. To do nothing is to be useless. To produce nothing is to be worthless. To be guilty of even one of these failings is to be evil.

"Equality" is a subjective nonsense. In reality some people are more important than others. A life that makes a difference is precious whereas many lives that make no difference prove cheap. One who does a small thing that is meaningful does more than the many who do much of what is meaningless. The death of a good man is a travesty whereas the slaughter of the wicked is a cleansing.

Being alive does not make you important. Wanting does not make you deserving. Suffering a wrong does not make you righteous. People are the good and evil in the world. The many who slander, take and destroy are the strife, corruption and anguish. The few who praise, contribute and create are the appreciation, integrity and joy. The few, not the many, are worthwhile.

Strange Galaxy: Sincere Foundation

My Strange Galaxy was never an attempt to create something original. It was always nothing more than an endeavor to customize science fiction to my own preferences. In so doing I have created something new.

Reality is boring but true. Fantasy is nonsense but fun. Reality and fantasy in perfect communion are the qualities of both with the shortcomings of neither. My Strange Galaxy is all about possibilities, real and imagined.

I have always loved the magic of fantasy and the speculative technology of science fiction. Swords are as interesting a weapon as guns. The futuristic and the ancient are equally mystical. Aliens and fairies really are the same thing. I brought all these supposedly disparate elements together. I refined them, cleansing them of their silliness. In their purity they merge seamlessly together.

           

People are my interest. Dead space and lifeless worlds do nothing for me. I am mindful that velocity, in any form, is entirely impractical for living things to traverse the unimaginable gulfs of the cosmos. Anyway, Strange Galaxy is a space opera without spaceships. Living worlds are visited by means of shifting one two-dimensional plane of space with another, creating a portal in which “faraway” becomes only a step away.

I am a minimalist. I prefer simple to fancy. I favor sleek over gaudy. Intimacy means more to me than anything grandiose. The magic and technology of Strange Galaxy are understated. The adventures are typically unsung quests. There is no singular event or specific cast of characters that decides the fate of the galaxy. I focus on depth rather than breadth.

My Strange Galaxy is meaningful because everything about it says something. Enjoy.

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ShawnOToole

Strange Galaxy: No Disease, Language Barrier or Super Weapons

Not all things real are meaningful. Not all things true are inspiring. My imagination does not languish. It is beyond the tiring mediocrity of our real world.

Disease is a miserable drudgery. The language barrier is insincere and an affront to individuality. Weapons of mass-destruction are impersonal and spiritless. My Strange Galaxy is clean of all such realistic nonsense. In my fictional world of many worlds good and evil are the issues to be dealt with. What is meant is what is said. Courage and prowess cannot be bested from afar.

Stark reality is boring but sheer fantasy is ridiculous. Even a fairy tale has no point if it is not telling a truth. Disease is never mentioned in Strange Galaxy but it is also never disclaimed. Yes, the language barrier divides our world but it is a false barrier: true meaning was never a matter of sounds and scribble. As for weapons of mass-destruction, every war is won by warriors, regardless of the weapons.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/477393

Rarely Female

The damsel in distress and the seductress have been supplanted by the heroine and the villainous dominatrix in mainstream fiction. The useless henchman retains his inglorious niche. His twin sister, the useless henchwoman, languishes in obscurity.

Why is the lowly goon rarely female? Is it because women are not inclined towards thuggery? Is it because females are unsuitable for combat? Would not the villainous dominatrix be an obscurity for the same reasons?

The expendable foot soldiers of villainy are not meant to rival heroes. Their narrative purpose is to provide readily available victims of heroic violence. Typically, these anonymous baddies are unceremoniously killed. There is a common reluctance, however, to see expendable villains be expended if they are female.

The Amazons of Classical Mythology were an army and nation of women as baddies. Their queens and champions were formidable only to be slain by heroes. Their anonymous warriors were slaughtered in droves or carried off to be involuntary brides. The ancient legend of the Amazons remains popular and inspiring to this day.

The useless henchwomen of today’s fiction seldom remain true to the gist of the Amazons. They are instead slapstick clowns to be knocked about but never slain; never to be taken seriously. The very notion that expendable baddies should never be expended denies them their very niche! Fortunately, not all of today’s useless henchwomen are rendered so useless.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/art/Expendable-Female-Baddies-511748797

Armies of Women

I am a writer, artist and game designer. I create female warriors. I am especially fond of armies of women, as inspired by the Amazons of Classical Mythology. I was and am fascinated by the novelty of female soldiers as baddies being slaughtered by heroes.

The Amazons of mythology were a nation of warrior women. The Amazons of reality were female Scythians and Sarmatians who fought in bands or alongside their men. As enemies of the ancient Greeks they were “baddies” to be defeated.

The Russians and Ukrainians are the Scythians and Sarmatians of today. They unwittingly revived a legendary tradition during their “Great Patriotic War” (World War Two). Their heroines Roza Shanina and Lyudmila Pavlichenko were authentic Amazons and did not even know it.

Women have excelled in combat but such women are exceptional. An army of women would be entirely impractical. Human females are too weak to be heavily armed and equipped. They are prone to passionate moods and petty jealousies, especially when dealing with each other.

The female warriors of fiction do not bear the burdens of reality. They do not suffer the consequences of natural inequality unless it serves the narrative. They are expected to be sexy.

Female warriors are real. They deserve to be recognized for their courage and prowess. Their weapons and attire must be practical if they are to be effective.

Armies of women are sheer fantasy. They are an erotic theme first and foremost. Their weapons are merely props and their attire should be skimpy or otherwise alluring. They may even wear high heels.

An army of women is sexier as a force of antagonism… because then its mission is naughty. Only men who want to be spanked want them to win. Dominatrices may be officers and elites but the common soldier should be cannon-fodder: Making the small fries formidable does nothing but make the heroes look weak.

The Amazons of Classical Mythology were generally hostile but never sinister. They were readily slaughtered or sexually enslaved. Their queens and champions were formidable only to be slain by heroes. Their armies were always defeated but their nation was never vanquished. Their legend is thousands of years old yet its popularity has never waned. They set the standard for armies of women.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451925

The Imperial Stormtrooper

The Imperial Stormtrooper is immensely popular. He enjoys the largest fan club in the world! Though he is nearly forty years old his popularity has never waned. His success is amazing; especially when you consider that he is a lowly, anonymous and expendable henchman.

The Imperial Stormtrooper wears a full suit of useless armor and is notorious for poor marksmanship. He is known for bumping his head or falling off of ledges. Heroes readily slaughter him with remorseless impunity. He lost an entire legion to a primitive tribe of little teddy bears. Why is this hapless goon so interesting? He has a catchy name, a sleek look and a dramatic story.

The faceless Stormtrooper can be anyone, male or female. Because he (or she) is a “villain” he (or she) is uninhibited. Because he (or she) is meant to die he (or she) need not fret the petty things. Because his (or her) name and face are that of the Imperial Stormtrooper he (or she) is immortal so long as there are Imperial Stormtroopers.

The least is indeed the greatest and the greatest least. The Imperial Stormtrooper inspired the world’s greatest fan club by being the inept and hapless foot soldier of villainy. His poor aim (when targeting heroes) and the uselessness of his armor are indispensable qualities of his distinct appeal. He is loved for being the easy victim of heroic violence. The Imperial Stormtrooper is a Keystone Cop of gritty action scenes.

The “useless henchman” is the plentiful, anonymous and expendable foot soldier of villainy. His purpose in adventure fiction is to be a readily available goon to be commanded by bosses and fought by heroes. He is the victim of choice for the silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs scenarios. Because his niche is inglorious by design he is seldom made interesting. The Imperial Stormtrooper is an example of how such a typically unsung type can be a wonder in his own right should his creator bother to craft him.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/47130448/Inspirations

Unreal Appeal

Art and fiction fall short lest they appeal to the mind, soul and flesh. The mind requires context, the soul yearns for meaning and the flesh desires nothing more than sensual gratification. Art and fiction are ridiculous without context. They are irrelevant without meaning. They are boring if not sensually gratifying, somehow.

A comely female is more appealing than one that is not. Violence to the death is more thrilling than that which is not. Good against evil is meaningful whereas rigmarole and happenstance are not. A narrative must come to fruition, for better or worse if it is to be satisfying. These truths are conventions because they are intuitively irrefutable. The art and fiction that endure prove my point.

Art and fiction are not about reality. They are the manifestations of thoughts and feelings as an expression thereof. Unlike technology and nonfiction their qualities are fanciful rather than empirical. Their appeal is emotional and psychological rather than overtly practical.

I am a writer, artist and game designer. I channel my thoughts and feelings into creative endeavors. I know what works because I know what I like. My very humanity is both my reference and my inspiration.

Art and fiction are unreal pleasures. They are products of the imagination. They are made of and represent thoughts and feelings. They give us insight beyond what is certain. We enjoy them because they stir what is within.

http://yellowplasma.deviantart.com/gallery/

The Free Man Stands Alone

Reality is what it is and shall never change. The world is what it is and seldom for the better. Only a person can be more or less than the sum of his parts. Only he can be good or evil at will. He is a blessing or a curse of his own accord.

Life of itself is meaningless. Survival and prosperity of themselves are in vain. To be remembered by the mortal is to be soon forgotten. We imagine meaning. Should we bother to make something of our figment it shall become something real, for better or worse.

I am a man of freedom and justice. I hold everyone to reap what one has sown, for better or worse. "Fairness" means nothing to me for such is the touted nonsense of those who mean to reap without sowing. I reject "social justice" because it is the sophistry of a sinister intent to assume control over every life and resource.

A man is but a spoil to those who would be his master. His hopes and dreams are but vanities to manipulate. His heart, mind, soul and strength are disposable resources to those who would be oligarchs or tyrants.

A free man is not for the taking. He does not covet others nor does he yearn to reap what they have sown. His pride is in his own accomplishments. His treasures are the fruits of his own labors. He alone may be justified for neither slaves nor masters sow or reap anything truly their own.