The Minecrafter's PrayerOur Programmer, who art above the maximum building height, Notch be thy name, thy cobblestone fortress come, thy code be executed on our computers as it is on yours.
Give us today our daily bread made of three bushels of wheat in a horizontal line, and forgive us our griefing, as we forgive those who grief against us.
Lead us not into fatally deep mineshafts, and deliver us from creepers, for thine is the coding and the l33tness, for ever and ever.
Minecraft - A New Life -3-The Minecraft BibleMinecraft - A New Life -3-3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I. In the beginning, there was nothing. No sun, no moon, no land. God saw this nothing and felt sad. So with Her craft of paper dolls, She created the world you see before you; above you; beneath you. She made several worlds, each one different and unique. This made God bored.
II. After creating the world, God knew to make livestock. Chickens, cows, sheep and pigs, all in Her beautiful style of symmetry and uniform squares. They grazed the land She created with a light skip of joy in their hearts. This made God happy.
III. Seeing the happiness of the livestock, God then created Man. One man for each world She had to prevent hatrid and war. This man had the knowledge of crafting as She did, but only how to build from what She had given him. However, the man became greedy and destructive, digging and building forever. Slaughtering chickens for their feathers and cows for their skin. This made God angry.
IV. Knowing what to do, God made the night. God crafted
Writer's BlockI first met Alistair Creaux at WritersCon '97, and from the first words he uttered to me in a drunken slur I knew he was destined for greatness: Sometimes I get an idea and it's so so sweet I'll just ride it like a buckin bronc and donkey-punch that fucker.Writer's Block3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I'd nodded sagely, not quite understanding but impressed by his zeal. Once I'd actually read Creaux's work it all made sense. Wonderful, crazy sense. He wrote like a combination of Hunter S. Thompson, William Burroughs, and Stephen King. Epic storytelling, accessible to the common man, but shot through with Deeper Meaning for those willing to delve.
His fame skyrocketed since I'd discovered him. He was BorderHouse's number one draw; every book pre-sold by the millions as soon as it was announced, anticipated by rabid fans (Creauxians, they called themselves) and lovingly dissected on numerous internet fan sites around the world. Two of his books had beco
deliverance does not come,as does the bell-boy from his duties,deliverance does not come,4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rough-boned burly man from his cell.
with the calendar days deemed ignorant,
the time-clocks cloak themselves. from what?
natural disasters are nothing, nothing I say,
compared to cold metal making nests
within a womb. and men, are wild -
run rampant through the night,
start fights, take heaven to tired veins and
in blind glory, ignite.
ffeminyddiaethEn road: Il y a du frost outside sur les fields ou el moëbius sobre la historia de la humanidad ou 'ffeminyddiaeth'ffeminyddiaeth3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(I was feeling very lost
very utterly defeated
until this yesterday with the
travel and the Southern Cross
now know this: i can tell all there is)
When all was god, drugs or new eyes there were also the ma