Posts Tagged ‘politics’

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PseudoPod 408: Knife Fight

Knife Fight

by David Nickle

There are only ever two combatants in a knife fight, and each combatant is allowed a knife.

The knives are to be provided by the combatants, in a keen, clean condition free of rust. Other objects—scissors, hammers, axes, surgical instruments—shall not be considered knives for the purposes of the knife fight.

Combatants shall arrive stripped to the waist, and well-lubricated so as to keep the knife fight from becoming a wrestling match, which is unseemly.

Goose fat is considered an acceptable lubricant for the purposes of a knife fight.

Victory in the knife fight is usually decided by the drawing of first blood.

Combatants shall avoid their opponents’ faces, hands, and throats, confining their strikes to parts of the body usually covered by appropriate business attire.

In the event that both combatants draw blood from one another in the same instant, the knife fight shall be considered a draw and entered into the Records as such.

To the victor go the spoils.

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PseudoPod 373: The Metal And Its Mold

Show Notes

The audience should contemplate their loved ones, what makes their relationship work, and whether power is an aphrodisiac or a bondage dungeon. The complete collected saga of Alecsandri and Olivia will be available soon from NobleFusion Press in The Flesh Sutra.

Previously: In Fin de siècle Boston, The Guru Keresh – whose pursuit of arcane knowledge had led to his death and resurrection into a dwarfish, homunculus form – has joined with lover Olivia Spaulding in a commitment to advance humanity make the world over into their vision. But they themselves are still only human. Previous installments in the saga have appeared in Pseudopod 127: The Garden and the Mirror, Pseudopod 198: The Mother and the Worm and the available-by-donation-only TRIO OF TERROR: Nourished By Chaff, We Believe The Glamor (which will soon be made available again in the upcoming months). Now, listen on…


The Metal And Its Mold

by Tim W. Burke

The men backed out the side entrance quietly. Tomorrow, they would tell their political party cadre that Olivia’s guidance was purely theatrical, and remain ignorant of the truth.

The hall was empty except for Olivia and Bostic, and a caretaker snoring in the front office. I stepped from under the table.

The smell of beef and cigars still clouded my nostrils. Before I had been murdered, before I created this body from a man’s tumor, I did not indulge in beef or tobacco. But I did miss having long, complete limbs. I missed wearing a man’s suits, instead of hand-stitched doll’s clothes. I missed lungs that did not ache so.

But then I would be dead, and away from Olivia, and our chance to change the world with a few enlightened leaders, and our chance to be together always.

I considered that Love has many emotions. I was becoming too familiar with Love’s ambivalence.