Heroes, Scum Bags, and My Very First Loss: Getting My Ass Kicked in Metropolis (4594 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.95 on 91 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Isaac Bickerstaff (View user info) at 2005-03-31 02:13:47 EST
When I ask him what the fuck he's talking about, he goes, "You know, a hero complex. Like Superman." Fucking therapist.
But of course he aint done, like comparing me to cartoon cats in spandex isn't enough, he's gotta do the thing: "You can't keep this hero thing up, Isaac, not with a kid on the way."
And how can I argue with that? I mean I never felt more powerful than a locomotive, but I guess I see his point. Old Clark spent way too much time trying to save Lois anyhow.
The Girl stayed in New York to pee in a cup, or whatever it is they do at the chic doctor; she says that the home tests aren't always sure, and she wants to be sure. She put me in the cab, and sorta smiled when I told her it was my last fight. "Okay," she said and sorta smiled, but not really. "Last one."
And I fucking mean it this time.
So she isn't in the room when the offer comes in, but that's the last of the kindness the universe is gonna show me today, and mark my fucking words, kid. Taro the Hunchback is holding pads for me to warm up on, while JD is lounging his peacock ass across the massage table talking shit, but what else is new. I'm sweating way more than I should, but it only makes sense, right? I gotta turn adult between now and flying home: I gotta start carrying the mobile phone the Girl bought so she doesn't have to call JD when she needs me, I gotta get a real job, I gotta fold up my cape.
But the thing about Superman was, he never lost. Never. And each issue had him fighting bigger and badder villains, and it sorta begs the question of what he was after. If you keep climbing higher mountains, crushing larger armies, what is it that you're really searching for?
Snapping me out of my punk ass musings, JD goes, "Relax, Twink, you know they don't really kill a bunny anymore, right?" and laughs at his high comedy.
The knock on the door makes him jump. We all full on stare at each other for an ugly second before JD chirps, "You got another pissed off chippy outside, gonna come smack you around?" I tell him no, and when he opens the door, Werner comes in. Fucking Werner, he's older and oilier and I can smell the paste in his hair, but it's still Werner.
"Zach!" he screeches in his high, woman's voice and strides into the room as JD goes clown nose red, and I can feel the history on the two of em like heat coming off St. Marks.
"I told you no fucking dice, Werner," JD is fired up, spitting through clenched teeth.
"I know, I know," Werner says, "I just wanted to hear it from the Champ." He sounds like a bitchy home economics teacher. "So how about it, Champ?"
It takes me a second before I realize that he's talking to me, and in the quiet pause while I'm figuring out that I'm the sucker at this poker table, Werner gets it too, "You ain't told him?"
"Didn't hafta," JD seethes, "this is Bickerstaff we're talking about, bitch." Then he turns to me and says, "Werner's managing Shortbus now." And I'm up to speed.
"Don't call him that," Werner trebles out. "He's gonna go big-time..."
Shortbus is the meat-hammer that I'm fighting tonight, and I'm gonna kill him. But if Werner is here right before the fight, that means an offer has been made. And I already spotted the fucker 4 pounds cause he was over and couldn't drop it.
You know, hero stuff.
"What's the skinny, Werner?" I sound like a punk even asking.
"Xavier's got a potential sponsor here tonight, crazy money fucker from California, shoes or some shit. He's gotta win big."
"Xavier?"
JD: "Shortbus."
"Don't call him that!" Werner is losing what little cool he came in with, like he swallowed a swarm of bees and is starting to feel the stingers. "C'mon Isaac, not like you can really take him anyway...guy your age. I just need a little spectacle, ya know? Make it dramatic, like let him finish with an outside spin kick or something." He reaches into his jacket like a bad guy in a Sam Spade pic and pulls out an envelope, and drops it on the massage table. The air hangs thick and gummy around him. "There's a bunch of zeros in there. I'll let you boys talk it out." And then JD goes insane.
"Get out, Werner, you grease ball fuck, you're talking to a real champion here..." and he's all up in Werner's face shoving him out the door. "You think Zach is gonna give up an undefeated record for a few bucks so Shortbus can get endorsed?"
Undefeated; you know, like Clark.
Now usually it's highly entertaining to watch mortals get tough with each other, the shoving and stumbling, skinny arms pawing and grabbing, faces turned coquettishly away. But I aint in the carnival state of mind, kids, I got deeper concerns and when JD finally slams the door on Werner's doughy ass, he turns to me straightening his tie, and mistakes my expression. "Christ, Zach, don't look at me all cow eyed like that, I didn't think he'd try again."
Now I'll tell you what Superman is looking for, my children, cause I know and make no mistake. Going from one epic battle to the next, scrapping bigger dragons each time, you wanna know what it is? He's looking for the guy who can take him. He's looking for the guy who can shut him down, end his quest, slam the door on his suicidal need for ever-greater conquests. Cause that's what it is, kids, and don't be fucking fooled. The whole hero thing? It's a never-ending hunt for the one that can close the coffin on your tired ass; an obsessive pursuit of your own Kryptonite. And I found mine about a day ago, the very second the Girl told me that my new name was Dad.
So losing tonight, it doesn't really sound so bad, you know? Cause let's be honest, my search is already over, this one last battle is fucking academic. I assured the Girl I wouldn't fight anymore and I'm not ready to add it to the list of promises to her I've broken, cause that array is getting too goddamn long to keep going over with my therapist. And let's face one more ugly truth, kid: no one endorses ex-cons in this game, not at my age.
And even though I don't want to say it, I don't want JD to hear it, and my stomach goes Fear Factor when the words come out, I squeeze out the question through a weak impression of nonchalants: "How much?"
And the whole room turns sour, green and sickly sour, like bile, fucking bile ass sour.
JD laughs for a second before he says, "You're kidding, right?" until he realizes that I'm not, and then his face changes: like he goes slowly from a Teflon suit wearing glitterati to a child who just figured out that Santa is really his pedophile uncle from Hoboken.
"Right?" Once more, eyebrows up, hopefully this time. And I just stand there.
He's still breathing hard from the scuffle and he wobbles a little bit, staring at me until my skin begins to crawl, and even though I try to keep them up, my eyes dart away, withering under his dark stare. JD breathes sharply in, then glides smoothly to the door and wrenches it open, stopping as he goes through to turn and glare at me some more, just to make sure. Yeah, his face seems to say, I never fucking knew you at all, did I? His head moves slowly from side to side, bemused, like he's trying weakly to shake off a bad dream, and then he's gone, just like that. JD walks the fuck out, leaving behind the sharp, broken pieces of shattered illusion.
Taro the Hunchback is standing in the middle of the room with the focus mitts raised like a wax sculpture in a Rocky museum and we both wallow in the rotting silence of the moment. When I look over at him, his eyes dart away and his hands drop with a swish. "You think he's coming back?" I ask lamely.
His eyes pop back up to mine, and pin me there like a butterfly to a board; accusing, brutal, unforgiving. "He'll be in your corner. But he'll never be 'back,'" he says.
I shrug off his gaze and walk over to the massage table, pick up the envelope and tear it open. My eyes skate over the surface of the ice blue check, settling first on Werner's sluglike signature, and then finally on the number; Werner wasn't kidding.
"Holy Christ."
Now I'm no expert, but I can't remember Superman ever walking into a stand up tussle knowing full well that he was gonna lose, but fact is fact brothers that I don't feel like I'm losing here, more like I'm waving goodbye. And just like Taro the Hunchback said, JD shows up in my corner, faithful to the end, watching with sullen eyes as Shortbus and I move toward each other. Shortbus is grinning, like we're in a conspiracy together, like we're secret lovers making eyes across a dinner party table; I can smell the confidence coming off him like scent on a whore.
And you know what, brother? I don't care. Let him have it, let him have the whole despicable scene; the two a day workouts, the bloody knuckles and shins, the terror of knowing that it's gonna take another win to pay the rent this month: dreading each birthday with a heartache you'll never fucking understand and trust me when I tell you. I'm already picking out names and preschools, wondering if he'll have my eyes, or if she'll be blessed with the Girls long legs. I'm in love, my brothers, and for the first time in my life, it aint with fighting or the Girl.
Shortbus can sense my distraction, he sets up with a quick jab combo and blasts past me with a cross elbow and wraps my head. I see the knees coming so I jam his hip, but truth be told I'm moving so slow a sumo wrestler on xanax could fuck me up. Shortbus does a quick switch with his feet into a clumsy hip toss that puts me on my back and he falls on top, trying for the mount. I scramble into his shin and toss him aside way too easily. And I get it: he let me escape, he doesn't want the submission I remind myself, he wants the knockout.
We're both up and striking again, Shortbus aggressive and daring; me, not so much. This whole thing would be easier if Shortbus were a better fighter, but his limbs are short and he tucks his shoulder too early when he jabs. He tries chun to my centerline, he goes wide with his hooks, his grip is like cotton and on another day, all that would matter. But not today.
Today, my head is glowing on the inside with a warm beguilement of my own making. I'm looking over his shoulder, checking out the crowd, gleaning the vibe, trying to memorize every detail of the arena so I've got good stories to tell the kid. "One time I fought a Philippine champion in Manilla," I'll say. "Once I went all five rounds with a big German boxer in Barcelona," until everyone rolls their eyes.
"Ah Dad, not that one again!" and I'll laugh and tell it anyway, reveling in the details, making up the ones I can't remember. "In Indonesia," I'll say, "you fight in a hard sand pit to the beat of silat drums while witch doctors cast spells on ya..." But my favorite will be about the Girl, meeting the Girl right after the triple A's on Long Island as she came grooving out of class covered in paint and stopping to look at my black eye...
And then Shortbus throws his first good technique of the night; bolstered by the confidence that Werner must have given him, he spins. And as my brain goes sloshy and the room whips around, I'm thinking, "Not bad, Shortbus, no hip, no follow, but all in all not a bad pin teui." I stumble back toward my corner and as I go down I catch Werner's eye far across the ring as he crosses his arms and sits back in his chair, a Cheshire grin of monumental self-importance on his puss. And as I'm falling, I hear it, JD's phone, it's ringing and I'm so close to my corner I can hear it. The mat smacks me in the back and I arch up to see JD turn disgustedly away, and flip open his mobile. As he does, his eyes flick back to mine, and I know he's talking to the Girl.
Shortbus takes the opportunity to drop an elbow on my bucket, and then another. He shoots into a full mount and starts raining shots down on my bean like coins from a slot machine. I can see him smiling, and past him I can see Werner, shaking hands with his corner man, celebrating already. With each soupbone he sends, Shortbus grunts out, "Tap already, Zach, tap."
The crowd is howling and the fists are hailing down, and the one thing missing from the moment are the voices from my corner, strangely silent as JD listens to the phone and Taro the Hunchback watches impassively as I get pounded.
This isn't so bad, I'm thinking, it's time to move over, let the young guys have the spotlight: let them destroy themselves with ambition as they count the accumulating scars.
And I'm already thinking about telling this story: I'll talk about Shortbus, Xavier I'll call him, "Nine feet tall, with hands like iron!" and I'll describe the epic battle, full of leaping kung fu dazzle and oozing drama. But I'll leave out the check, the ice blue check, the Pearl to my Hester Prynne. No one needs to hear that part.
I reach toward the ref and extend my hand to tap out, surprised at how natural it feels; just give up, I'm thinking, just tap and be done. I crane my neck up to look at my corner one more time, and I see JD mouth the words "I'm sorry," into his phone and flip it closed; and in the half breath before my hand comes down, he looks me dead in the eyes and shakes his head. Negative, his face says, negative: no kid, no family, no new life, not pregnant, not pregnant. Negative.
And what comes after that, my brothers? Sorrow? Regret? You want to know what it is? Cause I'll tell you right now: it's like when you're looking at your old yearbook photos and thinking, man, what kinda jackass was I? How did I ever convince myself that the Violent Femmes haircut and the hoop earrings were a good idea? What was I thinking?
What was I thinking?
But who do ya get mad at? See, that's the worst part, man, cause you know you only have yourself to blame. And when Shortbus gives me too much arm I bar that shit and face plant his stubby ass onto the mat next to me. His surprise splashes out of him like the gore from his split open eyebrow, and by the time he drags his punk ass vertical, I'm on my feet with my paws in the air.
He tries to counter, he tries to sidestep, but he aint got a chance cause it's not him I'm fighting, it's not him I'm dropping the hammer on and chasing with mad body shots, it's me: it's the me of one hour ago, the me that was willing to sell his soul for a shot at suburban complacency, the me that let my buddy down in the sickest possible way. That's the guy I'm going Roy Jones on; the guy in the yearbook photo with the bad hair and piercings, and let me be brutally honest, kids, I don't want the submission, I want the fucking knockout.
I catch a glimpse of Werner as Taro the Hunchback walks up to him and hands him back the envelope, the ghost of a smile haunting his face like the sad apparition of a long dead child. Werner stands there dumbfounded, still unable to grasp what Taro the Hunchback has foreseen; but Shortbus, kids, he knows exactly what's in store for his tin can ass, and as his face goes pale with the impending beating, Taro the Hunchback turns back to watch with all the patience in the world.
And as I'm setting him up with a nine beat combo so crazy fast that Shortbus don't know whether he's coming or going, I decide to show him what a good kick looks like, a fast kick. And as I spin, I decide that pin teui aint gonna do it. So halfway through I turn my hip all the way over in to luhng mei teui and when my heel connects, I watch the first two rows of audience scream as the blood from Shortbus's shattered mouth sprays over them, a sanctifying rain.
His head hits the mat before I put my foot down; and the ref shoves me back and goes to check on him: he shakes his head and calls it, yanking my wrist up and barking something that I can't hear over the bellowing crowd and my screeching conscience.
And as the ring surges full of the usual trainers and groupies, I wait for the electric buzz of the victory thrill to come up the back of my neck like it always does, but not this time, my friend. This time it stops somewhere south of my ribcage, where I'm already feeling the emptiness and longing for a kid I never had, a chance I never got. And I'm standing there surrounded by the chaos of the barbaric life I've chosen for myself, drowning in the random congratulatory squalls when JD appears through the screams and jostling, a life ring in a sea of bedlam.
I flinch as he moves toward me until I realize that he's bending down. He reaches out and grabs my foot, the one that just undid Shortbus, and something hurts as he pulls it out of my heel: a long bloody incisor.
"Fucking hell, Twink," JD pops off, "think you went a little easy on him?" and he grins while he grabs my wrist and triumphantly yanks it into the air above us both; another day older, another fight wiser, another indelible scar on a long suffering canvas: a couple of champs once again.
I want to go home, not to New York, you myopic motherfuckers, but to the home of my youth, long since bulldozed and replaced with a strip mall. I want to dig through the basement, past the old clothes and dusty books, under the broken trophies and Star Wars figures until I find one, any one, so long as it has the Man of Steel on the cover. I'll drop the comic in an envelope, address it to Mr. Kent, care of the Fortress of Solitude, and I'll include a short note; "Clark," it'll say, "This was always yours, not mine. And it's time I started living my own story."
User Reviews
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-05-09 11:01:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Brilliant
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2007-09-11 05:39:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
But the thing about Superman was, he never lost. Never.
=======
Dude, Superman dies.
I don't care if he comes back, dying is losing.
I'll read the rest later, but right now, drunk me is bored, and highly annoyed by you.
I apologize in advance, assuming that I read this later, and feel silly.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2007-08-01 10:30:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This deserves a +2 but not best ever. Good rather than amazing.
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2007-06-22 16:49:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-05-26 17:52:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by littledan (user info) at 2007-03-09 17:15:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I almost stopped reading it, until there was no more baby. Great turnaround, and it warrants a +2.
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2007-03-09 15:43:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
so uh.. where can I see more?
Submitted by cera (user info) at 2007-02-04 17:51:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Good, but not Best Ever material
Submitted by theshadypeach (user info) at 2007-01-23 16:24:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Should be a perfect score.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2007-01-08 16:33:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This guy's stories and the Rank and Vile series by Shandy and Apollo are the only works I've seen on uber which were entertaining in a legitimate way, not in a quaint, har har pen0s, uber way.
Fuck me he blows me away.
Usually in this situation I'd want to be different, and voice some criticism or something. While there are some flaws in his writing, it's the kind of shit that a good editor would smooth out. Anybody can see that the actual creativity in the writing is top-notch, and he's a fucking joy to read.
Submitted by hour_man (user info) at 2007-01-08 09:46:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Jesus you're good.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2007-01-08 09:17:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Too good.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-10-29 22:47:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
More fine work by rad!
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-24 08:16:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You know, reading this again still evokes the same respect. Did you make some deal with the devil?
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-03-30 04:39:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I bought a hampster once and threw into a metal barrel fire in honour of Bickerstaff.
It's not as much fun as you'd think.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-03-30 04:21:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
no.
Submitted by r0fl (user info) at 2006-03-27 16:36:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, my day cannot possibly get any better after this.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-03-26 06:09:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Bickerstaff. Come back.
*sniff*
Submitted by Tr4ppedunderice (user info) at 2006-03-25 22:01:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-03-22 21:31:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
fantastic
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-03-19 10:20:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking brilliant. Amazing.
Submitted by Kale (user info) at 2006-03-18 18:11:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-03-13 00:41:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You. Are. The. Man.
Submitted by Pacifist248 (user info) at 2005-06-29 04:57:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-06-12 04:13:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by gina (user info) at 2005-05-28 16:38:46 (#)
Ranking: 2
this is circe, case closed!
she gushes waaaaaay to much over the earlier posts.
__________
Don't be an idiot.. this is really starting to piss me off. If I could write like this, I'd take credit for it. I've been emailing back and forth with Zach for months and so have other people. I gushed too much over the earlier posts? Have you READ this guy's other posts? In the midst of the crap on uber, coming across them is like water in the desert, or a warm house in a snowstorm. They're worth gushing over. Go invent conspiracy theories about someone else, okay? This guy doesn't deserve it.
Submitted by SiskelandFatboy (user info) at 2005-06-08 19:13:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by JHoersten2 (user info) at 2005-05-30 14:18:02 (#)
Ranking: -2
I'm sorry. Nothing is perfect, and now, neither is this posts score.
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Someone give this parasite a "Luhng Mei Teui" kick or something
Everytime I read one of Isaac's posts, I say the same thing: "This is the best thing I have ever read!"
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2005-06-05 08:13:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bart, scrap this fuckwit's rating immediately, and i will blow flour on you balls then sniff it off.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-06-05 07:18:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Who the hell would write this stuff and then just leave???
Or, on the other hand, write this stuff as an alter and then not take credit for it???
Either way it's mind-boggling.
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-06-05 06:50:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is by far the best series/writing on Uber.
Shame some retard always has to spoil things.
-Dave
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v
Submitted by JHoersten2 (user info) at 2005-05-30 14:18:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I'm sorry. Nothing is perfect, and now, neither is this posts score.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-05-28 18:46:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by gina (user info) at 2005-05-28 16:38:46 (#)
Ranking: 2
this is circe, case closed!
she gushes waaaaaay to much over the earlier posts.
=================
No it's not.
Submitted by gina (user info) at 2005-05-28 16:38:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
this is circe, case closed!
she gushes waaaaaay to much over the earlier posts.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-05-28 10:31:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
he rated Circe's post yesterday.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2005-05-28 10:03:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Who killed Isaac? He hasn't been around to post in months...unless he went alter on me.
Submitted by Vulva (user info) at 2005-05-25 10:08:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yep, I agree. You have impressed the vulva
Submitted by Rocktsrgn (user info) at 2005-05-25 09:33:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-05-07 06:16:38 (#)
Ranking: 2
Isaac,
I don't know if you ever check your reviews...
Please enter UMIII.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-05-25 09:27:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bickerstaff.
Submitted by CoreaPeekay (user info) at 2005-05-25 03:08:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I must have read this ten times without reviewing it because I couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say but heres your +2 finally, because your work has to be some of the most amazing stuff I've ever read.
Submitted by the_lone_stranger (user info) at 2005-05-24 15:40:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Your fighting prowess is matched only by your writing.
Truly the kicker of all ass.
Submitted by mrwolf (user info) at 2005-05-24 09:40:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll perhaps re-read this when I'm not so mad that this post is the reason Adadidit2you only gave me a plus1
Submitted by metricgiraffe (user info) at 2005-05-07 22:23:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't even know if there is a single word in the English language that can describe the greatness of this post. I'm thinking maybe German will have a good word for it. Like ... ubergreatenwaften.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-05-07 06:16:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Isaac,
I don't know if you ever check your reviews...
Please enter UMIII.
Not only would I be honored to get my ass kicked by you...
Well fuck that's enough reason right there.
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2005-04-24 19:38:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You're damn good. Makes me want to write again.
...Or stop writing forever.
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2005-04-21 17:56:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
...
Submitted by Or_ (user info) at 2005-04-20 00:52:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazing.
Submitted by Kamargo (user info) at 2005-04-14 22:38:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Just fucking awesome... you are one of my favorite authors
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Napoleon Dynamite: Stay home and eat all the freakin' chips, Kip.
Kip: Napoleon, don't be jealous that I've been chatting online with babes all day. Besides, we both know that I'm training to be a cage fighter.
Napoleon Dynamite: Since when, Kip? You have the worst reflexes of all time.
Kip: Try and hit me, Napoleon.
Napoleon Dynamite: What?
Kip: I said come down here and see what happens if you try and hit me.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2005-04-14 10:07:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
very, very good.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2005-04-13 15:57:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow.
Submitted by Dannie (user info) at 2005-04-11 12:17:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2005-04-10 22:15:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
just fucking awesome
Submitted by DerivableZero (user info) at 2005-04-10 21:41:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I find myself rendered speechless by your ability to not only show me a character but make the character live inside of my head and allow me to live inside of his.
Beautifully, masterfully accomplished. I can only hope to write with such heart one day.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-04-06 22:02:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Your writing makes me wish that there was a +2000 for special occasions. You seriously rock my face off.
Submitted by lordofthedance (user info) at 2005-04-05 18:54:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Cisco (user info) at 2005-04-05 09:28:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Not the first time your writing has brought a tear to my eye. What can I say that the previous 37 posts haven't already said? Brilliant.
Submitted by ThineJericho (user info) at 2005-04-03 08:42:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I've no idea who initially referred me to your writing .. but thanks.
Amazing work man.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-04-03 08:07:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Keen eyed fairweather friends make it all worthwhile, huh? Keep it going, Zach; nothing I can tell you you don't already know.
Didja get the ballons? Because yesterday, man.. yesterday was it.
Going to email you now.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-04-02 17:53:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Man, your stuff is SO good. The ass kicking is great and all, but the narrator is so human and vulnerable and your descriptions are so succinctly perfect.
You rule.
Submitted by bulb007 (user info) at 2005-04-01 10:26:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good stuff!
Submitted by madddonkey255 (user info) at 2005-03-31 22:29:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-03-31 13:41:31 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by screamfeeder (user info) at 2005-03-31 11:11:53 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:24:03 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:30:29 (#)
Ranking: 2
Best stuff on the site.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-03-31 13:41:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by screamfeeder (user info) at 2005-03-31 11:11:53 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:24:03 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:30:29 (#)
Ranking: 2
Best stuff on the site.
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-03-31 13:29:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I have nothing original to add.
Well...
next time I want leprechauns, please.
Submitted by jumpinjellyfish (user info) at 2005-03-31 12:02:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is the best thing I've ever read on Ubersite.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-03-31 12:00:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
What a refreshing change. Something fun to read, something that takes more than 30 seconds to read.
Well done.
Submitted by screamfeeder (user info) at 2005-03-31 11:11:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Now that I have sobered up a bit...
Same rating.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:24:03 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:30:29 (#)
Ranking: 2
Best stuff on the site.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-03-31 11:04:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very
Fucking
COOL
Submitted by Josephine (user info) at 2005-03-31 11:01:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Predictable, but awesome.
Submitted by Jay_Bassman (user info) at 2005-03-31 10:17:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh wow... it's posts like these I wish there was something higher than a +2. This is fuckin' gold, man. Keep it up, and I'll keep reading.
Submitted by garcon_fou (user info) at 2005-03-31 10:13:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by rick_the_stud (user info) at 2005-03-31 10:10:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Quite excellent if i do say so myself
Submitted by Fleadh (user info) at 2005-03-31 10:09:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking unbelievable writing. I was lost there for a while.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:50:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Long as hell but more than worth the time it takes to read it. Good show.
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:24:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're fantastic.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:24:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:30:29 (#)
Ranking: 2
Best stuff on the site.
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:10:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Find a publisher
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:00:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I didn't think there was anyone else other than me that still says "what's the skinny?"
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-03-31 09:00:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You should submit your work to the New Yorker.
Your writing is nearly perfect, and I know I'm going to get something awesome whenever you post.
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2005-03-31 08:22:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Dude I am starting to guess this isn't an alter, this stuff is too good to not admit to writing.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-03-31 07:47:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by creep_firebombing (user info) at 2005-03-31 06:44:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by iddqd (user info) at 2005-03-31 05:24:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice story, but let sideburns keep his formulaic (no real offence to sideburns intended, hes a decent writer, but his titles - i think - suck. not that im any better.) titles to himself, im sure you can come up with something more inventive than that.
Submitted by Jungle_Jimanee (user info) at 2005-03-31 04:50:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I have run out of superlatives.
Submitted by snarf (user info) at 2005-03-31 04:22:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Is it hard being this good?
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2005-03-31 04:10:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn near close to perfect.
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2005-03-31 04:08:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"But I aint in the carnival state of mind, kids"
You ever?
Fuckin beautiful.
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2005-03-31 03:55:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was fucking awesome. AWESOME.
--Shameless hitwhore to my hero post--
http://www.ubersite.com/m/59953
Submitted by darkwulffe (user info) at 2005-03-31 03:10:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
great story, I could just about swear I was there
Submitted by screamfeeder (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:56:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
1 + 2n 2n + 1 1 + 3n 2n + 3n 2 · 3n
1 + 4n 2n + 4n 3n + 4n 2 · 4n 1 + 5n
2n + 5n 3n + 5n 4n + 5n 2 · 5n 1 + 6n
2n + 6n 3n + 6n 4n + 6n 5n + 6n
and that the next twenty-three terms of the c-sequence for every odd ≥ 5 are:
-1 + 2n 1 + 2n 2n + 1 -2n + 3n -1 + 3n
1 + 3n 2n + 3n 2 · 3n -3n + 4n -2n + 4n
-1 + 4n 1 + 4n 2n + 4n 3n + 4n 2 · 4n
-4n + 5n -3n + 5n -2n + 5n -1 + 5n 1 + 5n
2n + 5n 3n + 5n 4n + 5n
A verification would perhaps begin with the following proposition of Serre[7], the truth of which is rooted in Wiles' proof of the semi-stable Taniyama-Shimura-Weil theorem. If p ≥ 11 is a prime number, c is a power of one of the primes belonging to the set {3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 53, 59} but c is not a power of p, then the equation xp + yp = c · zp is insolvable. I gather that most number theorists believe the restriction p ≥ 11 can be relaxed to p ≥ 5, but a proof of this belief is not known.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:30:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Best stuff on the site.
Submitted by Wiggles (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:29:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good, yet again.
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:28:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I got my ass kicked in Metropolis by unforgiving slot machines and blackjack tables. I never did get to see the giant statue of Superman they supposedly have....
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-03-31 02:16:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
HOLY FUCK ME!!! ANOTHER ONE!
WOOHOO!
+2 fucking two and now I'm gonna go read it.