The current climate requires absolute submission and a general moratorium on the truth. The monsters demand far too many things; silence above all else, and that, dear friend, is something from which I could never be.

What then? Am I to spend my golden years, locked up in some cage like a common criminal, while the real villains roam freely?

I don’t think so, bub. Not today, anyways.

In elder times, in order to hide the truth from the King’s ear, yet still pass along tales that really happened, the towns folk learned to be crafty.

Ah yes, indeed they did.

For one couldn’t simply just blurt out that the King was diddling the court jester behind the Queens back. That might separate ones head from ones neck awfully darn quick.

Swish, clang, thwack!

No sir.

Instead, one had to tell special kinds of stories about it, masking the players in clever enough fashion as to not leave breadcrumbs (there it is again).  

One such way could be the use of poems.

Lord knows, there isn’t a politician, prince or king wise enough to accurately interpret one of those creatures. Heck, even I have trouble figuring them out from post to parcels, at most times.

Hmm, how about a warm bowl of fables, served up with a nice salad, all friendly-like and with a few flour tortillas on the side to boot? No?

Perhaps a frothy parable or two, just before bedtime? Really hits the spot on those long winter nights.

Fable $0.99

‘Fable is a literary genre: a succinct fictional story, in prose or verse, that features animals, legendary creatures, plants, inanimate objects, or forces of nature that are anthropomorphized, and that illustrates or leads to a particular moral lesson, which may at the end be added explicitly as a concise maxim or saying.’ -Wikipedia

Parable $1.99

‘A parable is a succinct, didactic story, in prose or verse, that illustrates one or more instructive lessons or principles. It differs from a fable in that fables employ animals, plants, inanimate objects, or forces of nature as characters, whereas parables have human characters.’ -Wikipedia

Now you’re talking, bub. Cooking with fire.

Have a great day, now go weave some good yarns or something.

-I am Crandew




Chasing a Dream

The cracks in the pavement tell a story. Everything around us tells a story; it all has a particular tale for us. I trace the lines that run up the side of the building, and something in me dies… just a little. Is sadness a part of the story too? A chill, that crawls up my spine with no real purpose… is that a part of this story?

Is it?

I can only chase the phantom of a dream, not the dream itself. That would be too much, too soon and far too lonely. The mist that hovers lightly on top the water. That’s part of the chase. A strange, yet somehow wonderful part. Of the dream.

Or is it?

I dance with the devil far too often. I trip the light fandango, and yet all is not lost. Not yet. For the dream that I chase beckons to me always. It calls my name, and in such a sweet voice. Hither. Linger. Loose.

These days are bubbling over with shadowy bright lights, and horribly ugly moods. Those around me have no idea. None. I chase my dreams, and with no real want of ever catching them.

-I am Crandew


Rock On

All men are not created equal. To put it more famously, some men were created far more equal than others. On the surface of a calm lake, this might seem obvious but as the day turns towards the night, I see ripples jet out across the water. I do see the ripples.

The days are mostly random in number. One by one, just a tick away from whatever chance us humans might have once thought we had. We are all forever swimming around like fish in a barrel. The inside of our caves however are so nice, pleasant even. While the outside world remains a wondrous mystery, its one that’s best left to those who were born more equal. More equal I say.




In my mind, nothing was ever really equal except maybe the ground we knock about on, or perhaps the air we so desperately cling to. Here as well, there lies an insane inequality for access. We walk this earth, and have an equal chance at both… when not so disturbed. Changes happen of course, over time but with less objectivity than is let on.

The crafty way each morning arrives, and the unsettled issues into evening that must surely follow, continuing onward locked in its loop, unaware of all the strife we humans have attributed to it. Nature versus the clock that ticks away into nothing really, for that too (the clock) was derived by mischievous men.



I start my day with the new sun, and with hopes that I can reach some point into the coming night. I’m foolish enough to think that I can make it past the finish line again. I am indeed being foolish, for one day soon that won’t be the case. That won’t be the case at all.

-I am Crandew

Into The Fire

…or another title could have been- feet to the fire.

The word fire keeps appearing out of nowhere today, so I’m going to have to say… something must be going on; something’s always on fire somewhere I tell ya true.

Most assuredly, I’m just happy to be home from work… you know, my stupid day job? I’m told that most of us have one. It’s what we do to survive while dreaming about what we’d rather be doing.

This week was extra long, like they added an extra day or something.

Anyway, glad it’s Friday and I’m super glad to be home from work!

So… here’s some music, and wouldn’t you know?



The 80’s had the best music… I tell you true!

-I am Crandew



Articulates Wildly

…and by wildly, I mean ‘wildly’.

So, I was just outside my humble abode, chilling a bit in the newly frosted air, enjoying my pipe and casually reflecting on some recent fighting, bickering and arguing that I’ve seen lately on various sites I frequent. There is the usual, slightly weird stuff over politics or who’s a better musician or which comic book hero could beat up another comic book hero… you know, that kinda stuff. It set my thoughts adrift.

Why argue at all? Has anyone ever changed anyone else’s mind about anything, ever? In the history of history, and beyond… it never happens. Arguing is pointless.

That being said, there is such a thing as articulating (wildly). It’s where you don’t bother defending yourself on any subject, in lieu of simply explaining your take on it. Subtle, but there is a difference.

The key is that you’re no longer invested in being ‘right’. It’s not about changing someone’s mind, or backing up your own actions or past. Just tell it like you see it – and leave it at that.

Anyway, I finished my pipe and jotted this down – because I felt like sharing. Take it as it is. Live and let live.

-I am Crandew




The Party

…set phasers on stun, then engage.

Seriously, it’s been that sorta weekend. No need to panic, but no great picnic either.

Nah, I’m just messing around.

I’ve actually had a nice, relaxing time (away from work) which is always a great thing. Do you guys all work? I do, and I freaking hate it. I’m sure it beats having to leave the cave and hunt for supper each day, but we’re all human (I’m assuming) and that means we get grocery bagged into our own pointless little lives fairly quickly. So hard to see the forest for the trees, ya know?

Seem to be drifting again,  like those logs that cruise by at top speed in Frogger… only not near so coordinated.

Dreading work tomorrow, because it’s so pointless. I want to go back to my cave.

-I am Crandew



In Towards The Outside

…and by that I really mean running into the blind.

It’s as easy to get lifted up by a single ray of hope as it is to be brought down by a shard of despair. I know. I live on easy street, but vacation in hardship alley. No lie. True story.

Oh, it is buddy.

One day, when this is all over and the lights have grown far too dim to see… I hope to sit my tired, broken down arse by the fire and just relax. It’s a nice sentiment, this dream of mine. It’ll never happen. Well, mayhaps never.

Mostly things fall apart, and the circle will not hold. All at once fooled into complacency, shocked into action… only to be quieted down, lulled into sleep once more with the promise of a new beginning, later… always later. If we weren’t angry about something, they probably wouldn’t even recognize us. I get it. That guy over there gets it.

We’re a part of the wall; the part that’s crumbling. Relic’s from the past that refuse to die quietly, or quickly. Looking glass creatures from beyond, that feed on everything until they are all gone.

Stupid Moongoat.

-I am Crandew


Bam Pow


Ok, so mayhaps Wonder Woman was a tad rude… but she does bring up an interesting point.

What makes the Batman cool? I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that he’s cool because, come on… he’s Batman. It made me wonder though, why exactly is he cool? What is it that defines us?


Obviously, as humans we can lie lie lie about who we are. We could dress up in a shower curtain and claim to rain down the heavens on all our enemies- but that’s just not reality, right? It wouldn’t be very cool to simply take everyone at their words (or at least, wouldn’t be that smart of a thing to do).


Fair enough. I’ll conclude with this little bromide: ‘We are what we do… and that makes us cool… or not’

-I am Crandew