Plugs

Jason Fischer has a story appearing in Jack Dann’s new anthology Dreaming Again.

Alex Dally MacFarlane’s story “The Devonshire Arms” is available online at Clarkesworld.

Angela Slatter’s story ‘Frozen’ will appear in the December 09 issue of Doorways Magazine, and ‘The Girl with No Hands’ will appear in the next issue of Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet.

Read Daniel Braum’s story Mystic Tryst at Farrgo’s Wainscot #8.

Archive for May, 2010

Playing God

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Jesus Christ Now Owns Every Major Game Developer

SAN FRANCISCO, January 1 – Playing God Studios (Nasdaq: PGS) today announced its acquisition of the last two major independent studios, making its takeover of the video game industry almost complete.

“I was sick and tired of games not living up to their potential,” said Jesus Christ, CEO of PGS. “Dumbing down titles for the console market just makes me want to scream. I’ve been playing games for a long time. Realizing the futility of fighting the supernatural is good! Sure, Halo hooked me on consoles like everyone else, but it’s just too easy to take down the gods in games these days. Don’t whine if a game is too hard. RTFM, guys.”

In addition to taking over all phases of game ideation, testing, and production, PGS will host multiplayer servers in its proprietary Heavenly Cloud.

“It’s a win-win for everyone,” Jesus said. “No worrying about ratings boards, rehashed ideas, lag, crashed servers. Gamers get better games, parents can be sure their kids will learn how to kill responsibly and in keeping with Christian tradition, and I get richer than Carlos Slim. I am the alpha and omega, concept and gold master. Every phase, it’s all about me.”

Industry heavy-hitters agree these purchases will help PGS acquire millions of new users and bring them into the light.

Square Enix is thrilled. PR director Nao Watanabe said, “Finally, someone else understands that infinite complexity makes games better, and offers more opportunity for hundreds of spin-offs and downloadable content.”

“Not like we can do anything about it,” said Jack Ortega, spokesman for Activision Blizzard. “He’s the son of God. He’s got good lawyers.”

What’s next for PGS? How about banishing inferior game designers to Hell to beta Duke Nukem Forever?

Jesus offered one piece of advice: “If you see me online, don’t challenge me. I only play in God mode. I will fucking smite you.”

Founded in 2011, Playing God Studios was formed by Jesus Christ and a number of angel investors. A long-time gamer, Jesus has become the most sought-after alpha tester in history, coming up with so many good ideas he’s been called the “savior of the game industry.”

If you would like more information, or to schedule an interview with Jesus, call (555) 888-1480 or email jesusfuckingchrist@playinggod.com.

SOURCE: PGS, Inc.

Say It with Horses

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

I was troubled in my mind about my parcel getting foreclosed upon, a man situation I’d’ve liked to improve, and Dog’s vet bill from a tumor. I put Dog in the pickup and drove down to Ghost Ranch.

Ghost Ranch is one of those places God or the chief Katsinas didn’t leave to any odd-job angel to make. The canyons speak with red and orange voices, glitter with cottonwoods. Half of my ancestors called it Canyon of the Witches, avoiding it like hell unless they felt the need for some cave painting; the other half, that showed up late and pale to the Turtle Island party, just loves it here.

“Sleep with me, bella Izzy?” asked my friend Felipe when I got out of the truck.

“Nope. I’ll cook, though.”

“You look awful. Not here to see me, are you.”

“Nope. Though I’m glad to.”

Up past the guest houses and the classrooms, the road runs up into the canyons. I parked the truck.

We walked the rest of the way up above the mouth of the wash. Nobody was going to come down here from Box Canyon, the reason being, nobody can get into it. I shared my sandwich with Dog and the spirits. I scattered corn pollen for them, telling them, “I can’t sleep up at my old place. I hope you’ll excuse me ‘til I can find some answers.”

After moonrise Dog and I listened to the coyotes singing like witches.

I don’t remember falling asleep; maybe Dog does. I remember the horses. They came down from Box Canyon that has no way in. There were painted ponies, palominos and appaloosas and one big Clydesdale, which is how I knew a variety of ancestors had sent them. They came down quick like thunder. I knew they’d trample me.

They did. I felt their hooves in my skull and ribcage, crushing my lungs and hips.

I woke up with rain on my face. The thunder had gone down the canyon like horses. Dog sat up, looking at me thoughtfully.

I still had my skull. Hips, too, and lungs.

I stood in the rain and offered up both corn pollen and my fears. The man would manage; the land I could ask for help on; Dog’s vet wouldn’t starve yet.

I left a note for Felipe: “Got told. Cook next time. Love, Isabella.”

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