This Thanksgiving, Feed Debbie’s Hellmouth

The second revision of Debbie’s Hellmouth  is complete – new cover art! The ebook is available at Amazon, see the paperback at LULU.

Debbie’s Hellmouth is the insular urban horror story of Debbie Menon. She’s a good real estate agent at the Mikelmeier Real Estate office there is Wister Town, Wisconsin. Debbie has a house for sale and she’s got to get rid of it. Supernatural forces press upon the young lady and she fears she looses her mind. Understand, Ms. Menon is a sensitive, artistic soul. She’s not unfamiliar with magical glyphs. And she’ll resort to using one if no one helps her blessed the cursed Witch’s house.

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Curious about the mythology haunting Wister Town? Read the background stories…

Horrid Tales of Wister Town – free online reading

Bestial Cult of Hathor

Abandoned

Bloody Tannenbaum

A Codex of Malevolence – available at Smashwords and LULU

Portal Painter

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Reincarnation

The second revision of the Matthew Sawyer’s Wisconsin horror story entitled Debbie’s Hellmouth will be available on Amazon come Thanksgiving 2012!

Why Am I Explaining This To You

Recently, my Jonathan Swift-style sarcasm (ie. A Modest Proposal) has drawn the annoying attention of a retarded theist or simply a fool professing belief in God. Yeah, I did suggest abortion machines as a means to help preserve the innocence of newborn children, especially for those devout and righteous Tea Party-tainted Republicans. It’s evident my intention had been selfish and impractical; farcical because I do so enjoy such slapstick irony. I think hypocrisy is hysterical, as funny as the helpless pratfalls of confident idiots. But my humor carries with it no intention of purporting a worldview.

Let’s get this straight. I am an agnostic and an antitheist. What that means is I have deep suspicions and disappointments in organized religions. I don’t believe in God because all the literature supporting such a divine being is fallacious. Christian apologists are especially deceptive and close-minded to honest facts and theoretical possibilities. Under the pretense of religions promoting such misconceptions and incorrect reasoning in the guise of faith, herds of lazy or deficient minds are persuaded to surrender their will, power and resources often to reprobate individuals or bands of miscreants.

I’m not an atheist only because such a stance precludes my open principle of “Anything is possible,” dreams can be made real and fiction leads to technological and social advances. Sure, there may be a God floating about in the omnipresent, miniscule tenth dimension but there’s no one able to provide that evidence – He certainly isn’t telling anyone. He isn’t. There are only primitive rationalization and interesting stories and good-natured parables in any Holy Book. All of which have been written by human beings inspired by love, fear and equally beatific promise or sublime threat.

Sure, they’ll pretend to answer the unfathomable such as the origin of morals, the purpose of life and the creation of man. But science has come a long way, nearly all the way, in addressing those conjured states of morose. There are legitimate answers mankind has legitimately discovered and if inquirers bother to hunt, they’ll find the gaps rapidly close. Where is God? Well, he’s not under my bed, and neither in my closet nor standing outside my front door…

I’m not someone evangelists or apologists should ask. I don’t care. I don’t care about cars, so don’t ask me to troubleshoot your combustion engine. I have no interest in guns, so I’m nobody you should consult about calibers. I’m content driving from A to B and I can use a firearm quite well for my own defense or less preservative purpose. It’s been said there are all sorts of atheists and I’m one of those unique sorts. Theocracy, philosophy and psychology are merely aspects of my creative writing. And I’ll suffer fools only so long before I become bored and take purposeful pleasure in the poetry of mockery and disdain.

If it comes to such in order to drive away the insufferable, I’ve gleefully wield them with zealous mania. They’re how I entertain myself and I know it’s not nice. I’m not nice. If folks would read my writing, I imply as much. It’s what I mean when I describe myself as visceral and male.

Sell Your Soul

What do I have to do,
Make a sacrifice of you?

Tow you up
The luxated stone steps
Of the Aztlan pyramid?

Carve your core
And roll your heartless corpse
Down a felled and lost stairway?

This I’ll do
And I will soon rejoice
In wicked, rabid lather.

And wallow
From the dark and into
Infamous condemnation.

This I’ll do
For your unfastening
Will make me an immortal.

The prize of
Your due disassembly
Will make me whole and reborn.

Visceral,
This act will recover
Primal masculinity.

I’ll reclaim
Forewent testosterone.
For you have stolen promise.

Spoilt renown,
Forfeit to animus,
You have tilted our balance.

For your own
Sake and sole wholesomeness
I’ve been made inconclusive.

To honor
The principle of Tao,
Requires unwholesome measure.

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Purchase Pazuzu Trilogy Pocket books and Hardcovers at LULU.

Happy Holidays You Mutant Lovers

Bestial Cult of Hathor Wallpaper inspired by a weird tale from Matthew Sawyer’s Horrid Tales of Wister Town.

Give a book this Christmas – Matthew Sawyer’s storefront at LULU.

For more artwork by the artist, visit his Sawyerarts gallery at Deviantart