perfidy

EDog reminds us that a very special time of the year is approaching. A time when we are encouraged not merely to spew mediocrity into the unplumbed depths of the interweb in a haphazard and random way as we do all the time, but rather to spew mediocrity in a focused and methodical way. The charmingly if cluckily named NaNoWriMo gives us an excuse to vomit forth 50,000 words of moderately crappy to horrific prose in a single calender month. Yes, we are asked to write an entire novel in 30 days.

Last year, EDog participated and crafted a compelling and heartfelt homage to the sword-wielding milkman locked in mortal combat with his eternal enemies the aliens. This year, he will enter the fray yet again with a Roman à clef concerning the existential plight of forklifts. I am tempted to join in myself, if for no other reason than to have an excuse to write something besides long and rambling screeds about the multifarious shortcomings of NASA and our imminent subjugation by inteliigent and ill-tempered robots.

Maybe I'll write a story about flowers...

Flowers with guns and a lust for world conquest...

And the efforts of lichens and pine trees to resist angiosperm domination...