Photograph from author’s collection.
I realize that I am a new arrival to Medium and not everyone may know who I am yet. But I also don’t want to waste your time, so I’ll be brief.
Author Of The Following Books:
“America ‘Toons In: A…
Not THOSE kind….
In September 1864, in the midst of the Charlottetown Conference, John A. MacDonald poked his square, wide-nosed head around a corridor and wandered into a room, advising a group of yet unseen associates that “the coast” was “clear”.
MacDonald was abruptly followed by Thomas D’Arcy McGee, who was smoking a kind of cigarette which would have been unknown to anyone at that time. MacDonald turned around and glared at him icily.
“Get rid of that thing,” he said, with no trace of the Scottish burr MacDonald supposedly had. “Are you trying to screw things up?”
I should’ve seen it coming when I first saw it. When I saw my guy pal Bob Bloch- flying. Literally!
I found that a particular affront, considering that, underneath my modest disguise of a human being like you and everyone else on this planet, I am, in fact (cue the echo chamber):
MUSCLE GIRL, THE MOST POWERFUL PREPUBESCENT FEMALE IN THE UNIVERSE!
And, as such, I am the only being capable of actually flying in my small but picturesque hometown of Bleakly Corners, Manitoba, Canada.
At least, I thought so.
That was, until I saw, in the…
In all the years she had known and been friends with Jefferson Ball- the mightiest human-like female dog in a universe full of them- Major Hamilton Pomeranian (star soldiers- Ret.) had been party to and participant in any number of her friend’s wild schemes. Partly because she was the only one of Jefferson’s acquaintances to take such ideas seriously, albeit with a grain of salt, and also because she was Jefferson’s only real friend, period. …
It was not common for non-human beings to make themselves known at the massive multi-national corporation known as Boothworld Industries. Even rarer was it for them to approach the massive, oak-paneled reception desk and the black marble wall behind it- to say nothing of the unsympathetic, seen-it-all secretary behind that desk. However, this was an unusual case, and, though not known at that time, it was an act that was soon to have massive consequences. Not so much for Boothworld Industries, for its multi-national made it immune to minor acts of political folderol.
No. The diminutive figure approaching the desk…
One poster taped to the left side of a wall revealed the message. The other, on the right, the messenger.
They covered the entire wall, for, apparently, a good reason.
The messenger was a girl somewhere between the ages of eight and twelve; I can’t be sure. She was wearing what looks like a pair of pajamas, yellow and purple in color, and a blue bicycle helmet over her head. But what is rather extraordinary was that she was lifting a giant rock with her right hand- and only her right hand. …
It was the middle of winter in the sector where the Mendelians dropped Pataki off to perform her appointed duties. But she didn’t mind. Being away from Earth, for her, was not a huge loss, ever since she had been recruited by the aliens as a courier. However, the climate of the distant planet where the alien race hailed from was far different from Earth’s, and that included not having anything remotely resembling winter as part of the forecast. Fortunately, Pataki had managed either to scavenge the clothes she would need (illegally, by the terms of Earth) or had…
It is entirely logical that animation and horror work well together, when the evidence for that relationship is considered.
Both of them are genres and media which focus on society’s outliers, those who cannot or will not conform to rigid social standards imposed on them, and are thus punished for it. Not a bit of this prejudice has come from the fact that, in actuality or stereotypically otherwise, they are both thought to be best appreciated by children, with all the taint that the word “juvenile” metaphorically implies.
So it was not surprising that animation has adopted horror ideas and…
A simple word, of only a few letters. But an enormous number of hidden meanings within. Some positive, others far more negative.
I was born into what is now unquestionably the last generation for which analog, rather than digital, technology, was the be-all and end-all of their existence. Therefore, when it came time for me to learn how to write, there was only one way to do it: on paper. And not just any paper. This was paper with a white basis, certainly, but with a series of blue lines cut at intervals a few centimeters apart, sometimes with…
The biggest city in Manitoba has a big problem…
We all couldn’t believe it when we got the news. Some of us, in our little specialized community, still can’t.
Jock Girl, a great superhero if there ever was one, was….dead.
Her body was plucked out of the Red River in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, just like she was a damned fish. And, when the coroner examined her, it was clear that she had gotten some not-so-nice things done to her before her bucket got kicked.
Naturally, the entire pre-teen/middle grade/YA female superhero community, as well as our anthropomorphic counterparts…
David Perlmutter is a freelance writer based in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.