PATTON'S SAD TAIL- VOL. II

I don't know why he's having me do this.  His voice is fine, much better than mine.  I still haven't found mine.  I've only been sapient for a few months.  I'm a fully matured feline with a big human baby brain.  Mostly, I just want to sit in the window sun and stare at squirrels.  Other than that, I want to eat, and excrete, and kill...kill...kill.  But now I have memories and presence.  Perhaps foresight will come later.  Now I'm locked in the ageless battle between instinct and judgement.

But you know what really bothers me?  This is a public forum, right?  I swear...I swear a lot.  You guys are gonna have to get the PG-13...not even that...the PG version of me.  Why do I cuss so much?  It's my foster dad.  He's got a mouth like a human man.  Sorry, I don't have a lot of experience to pull from.  Shut the f*** up.

Speaking of experience.  I know I've been alive for a few years, but almost everything before the change seems like linear strips of residual instinct.  That's how I acted, out of animalistic habit, and those habits are still fully ingrained in my behavioral profile.  Most of my memories consist of patterns, not actual events.

I can explain what happened, but not how.  Perhaps when Plato comes around, he'll enlighten you.  He's the smart one.  Crooked, old, matted, wise pussy.  At least he was the last time I saw him.  He sounds healthier now...in my mind.  We were all just beta tests for him.  Sam, me, and the others just test runs for our master's grand plan; to save Plato's life.  Too bad for the master, his plans had some pretty f...messed up unintended consequences.

As soon as I woke up, I knew I was different.  Not just physically; the change...changed me.  My very nature had been thrust into a cycle of quantum evolution.  "Wait.", you say, "How can you know all this?"  I've since joined minds with the master; cut a slit down the middle of his tongue with my steel claws and commingled my fluid essence with his.  "How did you know to do that?"  Instinct and judgement.  My hormones are f***ing magical!  "But h..."  Shut the f*** up.

Questions won't give you answers, they will give you problems.  I'm the problem.  I will kill you.  The first chance I get.  I will rip your throat out and eat your eyes.  Look it up, that's what we do.

I'm sorry.  Damn it!  I've got a lot on my mind.  Primarily, other minds.  I'm still adjusting to being telepathic and tele-morpho-hormonal.  Not to mention our little experiment may have just opened a portal that will most assuredly lead to the decimation of the entire planet.  What did I tell you?  Don't ask; listen...or I'll rip your f***ing ears off.  Sorry.  Sorry.  Somebody give me a paralyzed mouse to play with!

Now get out!  I'm sharpening my claws on a book.

PATTON'S SAD TAIL

The vibration of the road is hypnotic.  Ashleigh rips the Hellcat over the shoulder grooves on purpose.  (excerpt deleted) There's no noise in the cabin other than the mellow drone of electronica.  I'm resting comfortably in the back seat, sitting on whatever you call that middle part.  I look at my hands.  The blood on my mangled fur has dried and flakes with every movement.  Still, most of it's stuck in a mat.

I poke around the inside of my mouth with a bristled tongue.  There it is; the rotting wound where my fang used to live.  I'll get it back.

I close my eyes, rest my bloody chin on my crossed arms, and assess our current situation.  My master sits next to me, his body throbbing with cellular regeneration.  He's a mess.  He's in his own mess.  Like I said, Ashleigh's piloting the 800 hp comet through the southwestern mountains, taking us somewhere still only she knows.  That's alright, I'd let her drag me anywhere.

Xeno's in the front passenger seat hard at work.  He's got a hiking lamp strapped around his mohawked head, but I can't see what he's doing with his hands.  Cellophane crinkles and powder pours as he experiments.  He's still trying to get rid of me, shut me out.  I've got a cure for that.  I look at my steel claws and flex.  They glimmer under the passing freeway lights.  I think Xeno caught me brandishing them out of the corner of his eye.  Good.  Best...be...ware...

I'm not bothered by the sexy, pyrotechnic alien sitting on my other side in the back seat, or the cage in the trunk.  You know, the cage with the drunk extraterrestrial slug infested severed cop head wrapped in aluminum foil.  Yeah, that one.  No, none of these things really concern me that much.  What really blows my tiny little mind is how I can have any of these thoughts in the first place.  After all, I'm just a fat, lazy cat...  Wipe that look off your face or I'll claw it off for you.

Now change my litter, I'm scratching out a book.  Ooh, a laser!

Also, check this out!

https://kirkehammond.com/2017/01/24/feel-my-breadths/

DISCOVERY CHANNELS

Hopefully you know by now that the Bad Ass Sci Fi blog is my laboratory, my think tank, where I experiment on all things Bad Ass in the realms of Halteres and Opposable.  I will need to reorganatize this site and maybe build a new one, but the domain will remain!  If you need more general malarkey about writing and life, go to

www.kirkehammond.com

Oh, you already got that?  Sor-ry!

So I was thinking about the whole discovery channel thing.  Halteres and Opposable are inexorable companion pieces.  They forever exist together in the Bad Ass Sci Fi universe.  I consider them perpendicular universes, connected by channels.  These channels are opened through ideas, Sparks, discovery.  The tie in is complicated and teetering on forced being pulled down by cliche.  But there exists something more profound.  Something original.  Something beautiful.  Something Bad Ass!  I need to feel their connection.  I need to make it real.  I get the feeling it may be my legacy, whether I succeed or fail in its realization.

So in the immediate future, now that I'm riding a wave of manic creativity, I will plaster my digital canvas with light, shape, and perspective, until something tangible emerges.  Join me!

And just 'cause I'm feeling frisky, here's one of my discovery channels.  Such a sad tail he bears.



Now bask, and breath, and leave, I'm channeling a book.

ENTER THE KAVGAS

The Kavgas is an ancient fighting platform towering amidst the high canyon walls of Octor Sulcus.  It is one of the many metaphorical spires of judgement strewn throughout the realms of Halteres and Opposable; the launching platform upon which Nyk achieves not only self awareness, but the awareness that something else is aware...of him.  Basically, the Kavgas is one of many channels of discovery that connect Halteres and Opposable.  Yes, it's a discovery channel.

Raise curtain.  Act One.  Dux has challenged Nyk to combat on the Kavgas.  One rule; you fly, you die.  But here, we deal not with a simple snapping of the mortal coil, but a decimation of one's legacy.  How Nyk is perceived. remembered, and honored all rest on the outcome of this bout.

Just as combat ensues, however, something invades Nyk's mind; awareness, ubiquitous awareness.  Suddenly, the bludgeoning realization of purpose alternates blows with Dux.  Suddenly, his place among the Haltierre means nothing, his place on Halteres usurps it, and his place in the universe conquers them all.

You have just experienced what we call a brain dump.  These are ideas, and I have given them life.  The I has spoken.  I have seen the Spark, used the Spear, set in the Spike, and ascended the Spire.

Thank you.  You should also check out

www.kirkehammond.com

for more general thoughts.

Now please excuse yourself, I'm Spearing the Sparks of a book.

TWIDDLING MY OPPOSABLE THUMBS

Hmmm, I've never typed the word twiddling.  Odd little term. 

Anywhey, shut up.  Has it really been two months since my last post?  I've been busy.  No really...reeeley biiizzzy.

So, it's 2017, the year Bad Ass Sci Fi explodes!  My universe is expanding as fast as...the universe.

Check it out...

I just flung my 'professional' website/blog/email into the ethersphere (thanks for the Spark, RJT/Xeno).  Seriously, check it out.

kirkehammond.com

plus

kirkehammond@gmail.com

Trust me, it's...there.

You'll have to repeatedly forgive my reemphasized redundancies.  To explain.

Bad Ass Sci Fi is my fun site!
kirkehammond is my serious site, but it's also bad ass!

Now bugger off.  I'm writing a book!  Weee!