Synthetic Truths

A graveyard for my short fiction. My other blog is @sentient-spambot.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Hospoda

The three of them walked through the village, stopping occasionally to talk to cats or for Him to point out interesting local landmarks; a house full of animals, a house with no electricity, a particularly remarkable bench. The finally reached the centre of the tiny village, the náměstí (square) and Hospoda na Náměstí (the Pub at the Square).

While He ordered some beers for them, They went to wash their hands and face; most of their body was covered in the ash from the end of the world, however these parts of their body was easier to wash. The argon lamp above Them flickered and the residue of the mushroom that was still dormant in their brain woke up. Someone would come in. They were bound to. Then they’d ask in Czech what was going on. Would They have an answer? Could they answer? A second flicker became someone else behind them, and but Their hands still weren’t clean; They tried to hurry, but time was cold and sluggish now they were off the hill and back indoors. After an eternity, They managed to leave the bathroom. As he left, he turned and checked that he had been in the correct one.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Teeth

       “You’ve got something wrong with your teeth.” She said while I lay on the ground looking at her. “There’s something on them.”

I rubbed my teeth with my finger; “Did that get it off?”

“No. Let me look at you properly.” So I lay there and let Her inspect my mouth, the last Dentist after the end of the world. The sun was behind Her, illuminating the blond strands of hair around her head.

“Did you fall and break them or something? Have you fucked up your teeth?”

She became part of the sun, part of the sky. As She glowed, her concerned face took on a new beauty as She continued to examine my teeth.

“Why are your teeth so fucked up? Is it because there’s something on them, or because you fell on them?”

Her beauty hit me so hard in that moment, Her radiant concentration, all directed at me, filled me with joy and I started to smile, to show my teeth more, to increase her concentration on me…

“Stop grinning at me, your teeth are too fucked up.”

But how could I? I began to laugh.

“Seriously, stop it, I can’t look at them anymore.”

[mrfergusdoyle]

Tableaux

-          Gods of Rubble. When They turned a corner after spending what could have been any amount of time inspecting some faces that had grown out of the clay, They saw that He and She had arranged themselves beautifully. He was on Their right with the sky behind him, grass slowly giving in to rubble at his feet and the rope and metal tail of some Cold War beast in his hand. She was to Their left, softly silhouetted against the coming dusk, with the rubble of man’s world at Her feet.  

-          Sacrifice. He is stood to the right of a central mound, rock held above his head as if to bring it down on Their head; They is lying on the mound, eyes to the sky, the only clue that he is still alive is the laughter escaping from him like gas. Although She stands ready to receive the offering, she can’t know that They is only laughing because he had just seen a true god in the sky.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Snails

i had a sudden stroke of megalomania and declared that ‘i want to be king of the snails!’ we were lying on the scree, propped up by a pile of rubble and watching our jester/monkey leaping gracefully from heap to heap of detritus. i found a cigarette and was about to light it when something distracted me; so i said again ‘i want to-’ when she interrupted saying ‘but i’m king of everything.’ this was a fair point so i asked, out of curiosity, if she would let me be king of the snails if i paid her a tax of a snail a day; she agreed and to celebrate i got very close to lighting my cigarette before putting it back in the packet and joining the jester/monkey in his game.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Hello! 

I should have mentioned this earlier (since the project has been going on for the last year and a half) but I wrote the script for a short film called Lose Like a Human. It started as a response to the prompt “Deep Blue” for the Word Addict magazine, which I heroically misinterpreted from despair to chess robots. Yesterday we got back from Hailsham’s Hyperdrive Festival, a small local film festival in Sussex, where we were nominated for 3 awards, won one of them (Best Original Soundtrack) and the Audience Choice Award. Kerching. 

I also realise that I haven’t been the most active here, I’m going to be posting more new stuff in the future as well as reposting old stuff, just to keep myself out there, since this Tumblr has been collecting dust a little in the last year or so. 

But please, watch the trailer for the film, check out our Facebook page and thanks for bearing with me.

Fergus

[mrfergusdoyle]

Rocks

The three of them pulled themselves up the hill, a symbolic addition to the trip on His part and a requirement to the other two. She was beginning to see too many exaggerations in the actions of others while They was beginning to see crocodiles in the tarmac. The top of the hill was a construction site which had gone along with the Wall and had been abandoned for decades; a private playground for the group. Easily broken rubble was piled around the edges and in the centre were a series of piles and pits made up of larger bricks, wires and slabs of concrete. Still struggling slightly to understand Their surroundings, They picked up one of the softer lumps of rubble from the ground and snapped it in two. The sadness They felt as a result still occasionally hits Them at unexpected times.

When They heard Her say ‘He got a rock!’ They looked round to Him. He had a rock; what had They expected?

[mrfergusdoyle]

Hello! 

I should have mentioned this earlier (since the project has been going on for the last year and a half) but I wrote the script for a short film called Lose Like a Human. It started as a response to the prompt “Deep Blue” for the Word Addict magazine, which I heroically misinterpreted from despair to chess robots. Yesterday we got back from Hailsham’s Hyperdrive Festival, a small local film festival in Sussex, where we were nominated for 3 awards, won one of them (Best Original Soundtrack) and the Audience Choice Award. Kerching. 

I also realise that I haven’t been the most active here, I’m going to be posting more new stuff in the future as well as reposting old stuff, just to keep myself out there, since this Tumblr has been collecting dust a little in the last year or so. 

But please, watch the trailer for the film, check out our Facebook page and thanks for bearing with me.

Fergus

[mrfergusdoyle]

[mrfergusdoyle]

Think this might be from one of B.S. Johnson's short films but not 100% sure. Regardless, I feel like it's quite relavent this close to my deadline.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Actor Bios from the flyer for the Cellar Tapes (1981) (at National Library of Scotland)

[mrfergusdoyle]

So

Given how inactive this blog is and how much I use it to lurk, I’ve finally got round to making a personal blog. look me up @sentient-spambot for some shit or other.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Want to find out what a wolf is in the modern world? Or, at any rate, how we got to a stage where Angel Carter and Helene Cixous started wanting to fuck wolves? Then please read my essay.

https://porridgemagazine.com/2017/02/20/what-is-a-wolf-a-text-on-the-relationship-between-writing-and-animals-fergus-doyle/

[mrfergusdoyle]

Hospoda

The three of them walked through the village, stopping occasionally to talk to cats or for Him to point out interesting local landmarks; a house full of animals, a house with no electricity, a particularly remarkable bench. The finally reached the centre of the tiny village, the náměstí (square) and Hospoda na Náměstí (the Pub at the Square).

While He ordered some beers for them, They went to wash their hands and face; most of their body was covered in the ash from the end of the world, however these parts of their body was easier to wash. The argon lamp above Them flickered and the residue of the mushroom that was still dormant in their brain woke up. Someone would come in. They were bound to. Then they’d ask in Czech what was going on. Would They have an answer? Could they answer? A second flicker became someone else behind them, and but Their hands still weren’t clean; They tried to hurry, but time was cold and sluggish now they were off the hill and back indoors. After an eternity, They managed to leave the bathroom. As he left, he turned and checked that he had been in the correct one.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Teeth

       “You’ve got something wrong with your teeth.” She said while I lay on the ground looking at her. “There’s something on them.”

I rubbed my teeth with my finger; “Did that get it off?”

“No. Let me look at you properly.” So I lay there and let Her inspect my mouth, the last Dentist after the end of the world. The sun was behind Her, illuminating the blond strands of hair around her head.

“Did you fall and break them or something? Have you fucked up your teeth?”

She became part of the sun, part of the sky. As She glowed, her concerned face took on a new beauty as She continued to examine my teeth.

“Why are your teeth so fucked up? Is it because there’s something on them, or because you fell on them?”

Her beauty hit me so hard in that moment, Her radiant concentration, all directed at me, filled me with joy and I started to smile, to show my teeth more, to increase her concentration on me…

“Stop grinning at me, your teeth are too fucked up.”

But how could I? I began to laugh.

“Seriously, stop it, I can’t look at them anymore.”

[mrfergusdoyle]

Tableaux

-          Gods of Rubble. When They turned a corner after spending what could have been any amount of time inspecting some faces that had grown out of the clay, They saw that He and She had arranged themselves beautifully. He was on Their right with the sky behind him, grass slowly giving in to rubble at his feet and the rope and metal tail of some Cold War beast in his hand. She was to Their left, softly silhouetted against the coming dusk, with the rubble of man’s world at Her feet.  

-          Sacrifice. He is stood to the right of a central mound, rock held above his head as if to bring it down on Their head; They is lying on the mound, eyes to the sky, the only clue that he is still alive is the laughter escaping from him like gas. Although She stands ready to receive the offering, she can’t know that They is only laughing because he had just seen a true god in the sky.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Snails

i had a sudden stroke of megalomania and declared that ‘i want to be king of the snails!’ we were lying on the scree, propped up by a pile of rubble and watching our jester/monkey leaping gracefully from heap to heap of detritus. i found a cigarette and was about to light it when something distracted me; so i said again ‘i want to-’ when she interrupted saying ‘but i’m king of everything.’ this was a fair point so i asked, out of curiosity, if she would let me be king of the snails if i paid her a tax of a snail a day; she agreed and to celebrate i got very close to lighting my cigarette before putting it back in the packet and joining the jester/monkey in his game.

[mrfergusdoyle]

Rocks

The three of them pulled themselves up the hill, a symbolic addition to the trip on His part and a requirement to the other two. She was beginning to see too many exaggerations in the actions of others while They was beginning to see crocodiles in the tarmac. The top of the hill was a construction site which had gone along with the Wall and had been abandoned for decades; a private playground for the group. Easily broken rubble was piled around the edges and in the centre were a series of piles and pits made up of larger bricks, wires and slabs of concrete. Still struggling slightly to understand Their surroundings, They picked up one of the softer lumps of rubble from the ground and snapped it in two. The sadness They felt as a result still occasionally hits Them at unexpected times.

When They heard Her say ‘He got a rock!’ They looked round to Him. He had a rock; what had They expected?