Author Archives: Ask Liesmith

About Ask Liesmith

All that is gold does not glitter. Not all those who wander are lost. The old that is strong does not wither. Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken. From the shadows a light shall spring. Renewed shall be blade that was broken. The crownless again shall be king. (---J.R.R. Tolkien)

The Trouble with Catholocism

My problem with Catholicism is that it doesn’t seem to take its own shit far enough. Conversely, I think my problem with Protestantism is that it takes its own shit too far, but that’s beside the point. Catholicism just doesn’t … Continue reading

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The Effective Use of Funny Underpants in Proselytization

I was recently reunited with a dear friend who, to my dishonor, I have not kept close. This is a man of excellent fiber, gamboling laughter, real loyalty and a deep, pervading wisdom; I have not found him, yet, much … Continue reading

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Bonfire Night

Remember, remember the fifth of November The gunpowder, treason and plot. I can think of no reason, Why the gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot. I’m not English but I have a special affinity for this night. It’s my firm … Continue reading

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An Interlude in Innundation

Hello, oh loyal reader, I feel I owe you an explanation. My house, unfortunately, lay in the path of fierce Hurricane Sandy and we have suffered — and continue to suffer — the loss of some utilities. Thankfully my family … Continue reading

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A Note On What Follows

The next 8 posts, labeled Chapters 8 through Chapter 1 in descending order, are the 25 pages or so of a short story I’ve been working on. For best results, oh readers, you should start with chapter 1 — which … Continue reading

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Chapter Eight

It was a remarkable spring – the kind filled with sun-showers and lightening, frivolous thunder and serious rainbows. It was a spring both effeminate and mighty; it was war-like Athena, from Olympus descended, with an iron bow and a stylish … Continue reading

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Chapter Seven

We beat the Auburndale Crabknuckles in straight innings. Dad came to watch with some of his buddies and they were, by far, the loudest – and drunkest – spectators there. In the third inning I pulled my helmet off and … Continue reading

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Chapter Six

I avoided Janice all the next day – ducking through unused corridors, staying out of the schoolyard and sneaking in through back entrances. I threw panicked glances around every corner and reconnoitered every hallway with long, slow looks. By lunchtime … Continue reading

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Chapter Five

My first Sunday as a Lemellen Lemming I started as a linesman. A linesman’s job is simple, revolving mainly around the crushing of various foes. A crushed foe is one who has hit the turf so hard that he no … Continue reading

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Chapter Four

When I woke, dad was bustling around the room. He had the windows open and the sun – like surge waters breaching a dam – flooded in. Layers of cardboard had been stripped from the ceiling lamp, and, for the … Continue reading

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