Starlin’s Questions, My Answers

I’ve been tagged by the inimitable Mark Starlin to answer 11 questions, each one of most dubious character. This, anyway, is what the public knows of the story.

What the public decidedly does not know, and what I am just now revealing, is that Mr. Starlin also contacted me in private to threaten my life if I refused to answer previously mentioned questions of dubious character.

Mr. Starlin has unleashed a war that he will soon regret. For now, though, I will comply.

Time to strategize and mass forces and all that. Sleep lightly, Mr. Starlin. The hounds are coming…and they are hungry

My answers go thusly:


Ravens travel at will between this world and the world of the dead. I need to do the same. The Man With the Silver Dollar Eyes owes me ten one-dollar bills.

He rides a tricycle through the tunnels in my mind. Just beyond my reach. Floppy top hat. Green rain coat. One boot. Rat teeth in his pockets.

As a raven, I’d follow him. I’d take his eyes. Deliver them to the Piano House.

Afterwards I’d stop at the Hangman’s Hole, up near Silver Hound. You know, where Shadow Street and Memory intersect. I’d like to have a drink with Wandering Abner and Accordion Mary. Maybe play a couple hands of Shotgun Bluff.

Sure do miss you guys. Please give Larry Ten Feet my regards.

Terrible what happened in the Green Room.

Anyway…yea, a raven. I’d be a raven.

If you could go back in time to any place, when and where would you go and why?

Back at the building of Göbekli Tepe.

So many mysteries could be answered there.

What is your ideal meal?

Pigeon soup with a dollop of sweet cream, served with mutton bread and celery.

If you could be the best at any one thing, other than writing (don’t be so predictable), what would it be?

Astral projection.

What is your favorite place, and why?

Very hard to say because I love so many places.

Ultimately, though, I’d probably go with Lake Quinault and the surrounding rain forest. They are in Washington state, west, near the coast.

It’s very quiet there. The mosses blanketing the trees absorb all sound.

I don’t consciously think of Quinault as my favorite place, but it is the one I always gravitate to when I get some time off, so I guess when it comes down it, that really is my favorite place.

I also love libraries.

If you could pick a super-power, what would it be?


If you could have your own planet, what would you name it? (Describe it for bonus points.)

It’s named Loominex. It’s full of trains and Dust Bowl hobos. Geological processes are sped up so that the landscape changes rather rapidly, creating endless new places to discover. Lots of open space. A circle of moons around it.

You are on a long road trip. You stop at a gas station for gas. What “food-ish” product would you buy to snack on while you drive?

Those jalapeno poppers that sit in the glass case too long and get all crusty and dry by the time you buy them.

Would you mind if my wife and I stayed at your house for a week? And what weeks are available?

You’re welcome any time.

Just know that I don’t own furniture. I can make things for you to sit on with my books, though. Even a throne, if you’d like. I’d be honored.

Do you prefer hugs or handshakes? (In case I end up staying at your house.)


To hug me is to invite brutality. Affection strikes me as an inherently ridiculous concept. I deny the utility of expressing emotion and prefer to hold all human feeling tightly inside my heart until it ferments into a potent toxicity, always ready to blow up.

Do not hug me or even try to hug me.


If you could have any musician or band (past or present — pretend we have the technology) come to your house and give a private house concert, who would it be? Unfortunately, The Beatles are away on a yellow submarine mission that day, so you’ll have settle for someone else.

Tom Waits. He’s a funny dude and not full of himself like most people today.

Also MC Yogi. He’s also an authentic dude. I interviewed him a couple years ago and he really left an impression on me. Good guy. I think he’d be nice to share space with and talk about life.

Written by

I’m not in the Matrix. I AM the Matrix.

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