Where Are The New Clown Chapters?

If you’re an avid Strangehead, a citizen of Strangeville or one of my obsessive haters with more social media sock accounts than past sexual history, you may have wondered why I haven’t posted a new SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN chapter in the past few months. The short answer is because I haven’t written any yet. Here’s the long answer:

I was presented with an opportunity in my personal life that I could not let pass me by. It was one of those opportunities that I would have regretted for the rest of my life had I not dived in and given 100% of my attention and devotion.

This opportunity consumed all of my free time and I was left with very little time to tend to my writing. I always knew this would be a temporary life change and that, regardless of the outcome of the personal opportunity, I would return in earnest to my writing life. After all, I am a writer and writers write.

Also I would be lying if I said I hadn’t written any. In fact I have prepared more than 5,000 words worth of SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN chapters. Chapters 35-38, an entire month’s worth of the SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN serial are ready to go.

Starting next week, we will return to our regularly scheduled Saturday postings as we descend into the madding cosmic horror and backwoods carnality of the final act of SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN.

Will Elwood and Kiana the Clown Girl defeat the alien entity? Or will the galactic world eater plunge Earth into madness with clown hysteria? Will it consume us all?

We will learn Elwood’s and indeed our very planet’s fate starting next week. BUT for Strange Sayings newsletter subscribers, we have a special treat! All four chapters will be available to read in the March edition of the Kevin Strange newsletter, and free of charge, as always.

Don’t subscribe? No problem! All you have to do is fill out the form on the side of this page (or scroll to the bottom if you’re viewing this article on a smartphone) and enter a valid email address. That’s all you have to do to catch up on Kevin Strange’s newest and most brutal cosmic horror novel to date!

Sorry for the delay, gang. But we are BACK in business starting next week!

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 8 and 9

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday through Halloween. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5 and click here to read chapters 6 an 7.

Chapter 8

Philip was first.

He hung, spazing just as hard as ever when the black tendril holding him suddenly dropped him to the ground and let him go.

As his brothers hung at eye level by the tendrils still gripping tightly to their dicks, Philip stood up, bewildered.

God in heaven,” he said. “God in heaven!”

He waddled around in a circle, not sure what to do. Jacob and Carl shouted profanities at him and flailed their arms in his direction, as if merely by touching him they too would be released from their agonizing torture. Both brothers went dead silent when they saw what happened next.

God in heaven. God in heaven!” Philip said over and over, rubbing his pierced dick and balls as he continued his waddle in small, semi-circles.

He hadn’t bothered to pull his pants back up. They hung comically at his hips, unbuttoned and unzipped, slipping down more and more with each little lap he made.

Without warning, the black tentacle which had been hovering menacingly above Philip’s head darted out and struck his dick, knocking the dumpy hillbilly onto his ass.

Before he could stand up, his dick began to grow. Or at least that’s what Elwood thought was happening. After another moment, he realized it wasn’t Philip’s dick and balls, but the rings and barbells sticking out of his dick that were growing.

God! God!” the dirty rapist said, shortening his crazed mantra to just a single syllable as he was lifted off the ground by the gigantic rings and thick barbells that stretched his genitals to impossible lengths.

And then, they burst.

Blood and semen gushed down the sides of the boulder-sized balls and rings as Philip’s privates exploded from the strain of the enormous jewelry.

This action freed Philip from his seat atop the giant metal balls, allowing his limp body, shaking from shock, to slide down to the ground where he landed on his face and sobbed into the dirt, screaming “Mah pecker! Mah pecker!”

Next up was Carl. When the tendril let him go, he landed on his feet and bolted for the treeline and the darkness beyond. He only made it several paces beofre the tentacle caught up to him, splitting itself into five separate appendages as it did so. The middle, and thickest of them stabbed directly into Carl’s back, severing his spine, sending him crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

He cried out for his mother as the tentacle stood him back up, holding him at his natural height so that his now useless feet touched the ground.

The other tentacles darted into the flesh of Carl’s wrists and knees, dancing him up and down, turning him back toward the bloody scene and walking him, screaming and crying incoherently, unable to fight back without the control of his body below the neck.

The tendrils operated Carl’s body like an expert conductor would lead an orchestra. He hobbed and wabbled right up to the cum jar laying on its side next to where the brothers had performed their perverted acts on the clown girl. Carl eyed the soiled container with fresh fear as the black tentacles eased his arms down and picked it up with limp wrists.

The paralyzed rapist went quiet for a moment, confused as to what was transpiring as the tendril stood him back up and walked him toward his brother Jacob, still hanging in the air by his dick.

Jacob figured it out first. “Oh sweet mother fucker in heaven, just kill me! Kill me you evil ass bitch!”

He struggled anew against the tendril holding him by the dick. He put his hands between his legs and yanked, trying with considerable effort to castrate himself with his own hands, preferring a ripped off dick to the fate he imagined waited for him once his brother’s limp body staggered over to him. His fingernails dug into the flesh at the root of his thick hairy cock and came away bloody.

Had his penis been less girthy, he may have been able to dig through it before Carl made it to him.

Unfortunately, he had a big fat dick and was still swinging and twisting, hollering at god, the devil and anyone who would listen when Carl’s useless body, and that damn cum jar walked right up to him.

Chapter 9

Elwood had stopped masturbating when the clown girl had touched his face. But now, seeing Jacob hanging there trying to rip his own dick off while his paralyzed brother held the cum jar over his head was just too much. He started jacking off again, even though the clown girl stood right in front of him. He could feel the weird energy rippling off of her triangle head like some kind of nuclear fallout.

Imagining himself melting away into a puddle of toxic goo from radiation poisoning just made his murder boner even harder.

He was one really fucked up dude.

Then, like his other brothers, Jacob was unceremoniously dropped. But instead of trying to run away, Jacob jumped to his feet and started swinging his fists. He punched Carl over and over, desperately pawing at the cum jar. “Gimmie that fuckin’ thing, Carl god damnit! Give it here!”

But the tendrils expertly dodged the lumbering redneck’s huge hands. After a few minutes of struggling, A stray tendril that had been hanging out above Philip like a cobra ready to strike, making sure the castrated man didn’t try to run away again suddenly broke its swaying trance and launched itself like a bull whip, wrapping itself around Jacob’s neck, lifting him just high enough off the ground to make him stop grabbing at the cum jar and busy himself with choking to death instead.

The pair of tentacles buried in Carl’s wrists lifted his arms up, positioning the cum jar above Jacob’s choking face.

I’m sorry, brother!” Carl wailed. “I cain’t even feel my hands!”

Jacob could not form a verbal response, what with the noose-like tendril choking the life out of him. But he did start kicking the shit out of Carl’s legs and exposed dick in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable.

This action made Carl immediately forget his remorse, instead turning his attention on his genitals currently under assault.

I cain’t feel my dick, neither! I cain’t feel my dick! I cain’t feel my dick!”

Each time Jacob reared back and punted Carl’s cock and balls, Carl’s entire body would flop around like a limp crash test dummy, causing the cum jar to slosh and threaten to expell its contents directly onto Jacob’s face.

Upon realizing he was playing his own twisted game of “spill the jar, win the prize” he stopped kicking his brother in the dick.

Do it,” Elwood whispered, not taking his eyes off the cum jar as he furiously masturbated in front of the clown girl. “Do it!”

The otherworldly clown complied, tipping the jar ever so slightly with Carl’s limp hands.

The nasty, rotten sperm oozed out of the jar like snot mixed with spoiled milk, dropping onto the bearded man’s face in clotted globs resembling cottage cheese.

Jacob squeezed his eyes closed as a knot of cum splashed onto his forehead and dripped down into them. Elwood admired the contrast between the yellowish gunk and the bright purple shade Jacob’s face had taken on since the tentacles began strangling him to death.

The tentacles seemed to read Elwood’s mind as it was no sooner than the thought crossed his mind that the tendril choking Jacob lowered him to his feet and relaxed its grip enough that the big rapist was able to take a huge gulping breath into his depleted lungs.

That’s also when Carl’s hands decided to empty half the Jar into Jacob’s open mouth.

The biggest Nelson brother choked and spit. He blew cum out of his nose and threw it up all over the front of himself, but Carl’s hands kept pouring the contents of the jar slowly out like some perverted Chinese water torture.

I’m sorry, brother!” Carl screamed again but in truth his apologies sounded more relieved than remorseful. Like the younger Nelson was content to be paralyzed as long as he didn’t have to drink his little brother’s rotten sperm.

His reprieve would be short lived, but let’s finish with Jacob Nelson before we get on to that business.


Be back here next Saturday, October 28th, for chapter 10! 

Is Wired Magazine Racist?

2017 is barely a week old and already the politically correct social justice warriors have set to work on H.P. Lovecraft and Lovecraftian fiction once again.

I spoke out when the SJW league infiltrated the science fiction and fantasy community and called for the removal of the Lovecraft bust from the world Fantasy Award. And then I did it again in a recent article wherein I predicted that it was only going to take one more concerted push from SJWs to bury Lovecraft’s legacy entirely under the word RACIST and force the niche Lovecraftian horror community to abandon Lovecraft’s name and likeness altogether.

My prediction is that the Lovecraftian community will put up absolutely no fight, even though some of the most prominent editors of Lovecraftian fiction have made a living off of his legacy since the 80s and 90s. They will simply cave to the pressure like most well meaning liberals, terrified of being branded as insensitive or worse, as racist.

So they’ll drop Lovecraft and re-brand themselves Cosmic Horror (a niche of a niche that’s already established) or Mythos Fiction and that will be the end of H.P. Lovecraft. All of his groundbreaking, forward thinking, vast imagination will be separated from the root like so much lice from a stubborn scalp, and any positive mention of the man will get the speaker branded as equally if not MORE racist because, after all, in 2017, we should all know better, right?

Which brings us to my response and commentary to Wired magazine’s seemingly harmless article posted on 1-6-2017. Radical political correctness is always disguised as innocent virtue. As an attempt to just “do the right thing.” But even a cursory glance at the author’s rationale always shows a deeply malicious intent. And that intent is always to co-opt and then censor and control a group or organization.

As always, I encourage you to read the entire article in context before returning here to read my selected quotes and commentary. Let’s begin:

H.P. LOVECRAFT IS universally acknowledged as one of the most important horror writers of the 20th century, and references to his Cthulhu Mythos abound in contemporary culture.

Which is the only reason SJWs and Feminists give a single shit about Lovecraftian fiction. Look, horror fiction itself has a niche reading market. The specific niche of cosmic alien monsters haunting the dreams of bookish intellectuals is a minuscule little genre.

But over the years, Lovecraft (specifically Cthulhu) has become a cultural icon. The Lovecraft-created monster appears in video games, heavy metal music, TV shows like SUPERNATURAL and SOUTHPARK and in feature films. And wherever  pop culture occurs, you damn well know SJWs will come sniffing around.

But Lovecraft was also quite racist, a fact made clear in his voluminous correspondence. That’s something fantasy author Daniel José Older has been outspoken about in his criticism of Lovecraft’s work.

“The dude was a wild, rabid racist in a very racist time in a very racist country,” Older says in Episode 237 of the Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy podcast. “He really did weaponize literature in a way that was very damaging to people who were reading it.”

So here we go. Right off the jump we get the big R word. Lovecraft is an SJW’s wet dream. He was an unabashed racist. He also died in 1937. It wasn’t until 1945 that the world at large was made aware of the kind of horrific nightmares that Hitler’s insane eugenics policy had created.

It’s easy, especially for the politically correct left, to paint people who lived before WW2 as monstrous, hateful racism factories. But the fact is, the entire world was in love with the science of eugenics and the importance of the role genealogy plays in behavior.

Lovecraft, had he lived, may well have denounced Hitler and racism had he bore witness to the atrocities of the Nazi concentration camps. We literally can’t know how he would have reacted because he died before Americans were made aware of what Hitler was doing with all of those people.

One of the favorite pastimes of the professional bigot hunters is to take a beloved historical figure and apply current political correctness onto their long dead corpse. To suggest that these heroes be vilified and sacrificed to the great SJW god of virtue. This sacrifice is designed to embolden The Narrative and keep moving “progress” forward.

That’s what the last sentence sneaks in there. “He really did weaponize literature in a way that was very damaging to people who were reading it.” Like hell he did. His stories of genetic cross breeding like THE SHADOW OVER INSMOUTH smacked of a fear of interracial breeding but let’s get this into its proper context.

H.P. Lovecraft barely ever made money off his fiction. He was relegated to dime store rags like WEIRD TALES and had a tiny, barely traceable readership until after his death when his friend August Derleth opened a publishing house named after his fictional town of Arkham.

Saying that his racist allegories “weaponized literature” would be the same as saying that Saturday morning cartoons created violence in children. But then, SJWs even ruined THAT awesome pastime, too.

Claiming that literature can be weaponized is tantamount to calling for books to be censored or burned. Books aren’t weapons. They’re stories. Violent people commit violent acts. Art can’t force them to do so.

Silvia Moreno-Garcia recently won a World Fantasy Award for her anthology She Walks in Shadows, a book of Lovecraftian fiction written by women. She says that many writers of color were reluctant to contribute stories to the book because of his views.

“Some people of color would tell me no, no, Lovecraft was racist, so I can’t write that,” she says. “And I would be like, ‘Well, yeah, but why don’t you put your own spin on it?’”

So what we have here is a woman who won an award for editing a sexist anthology–which excluded male writers from being published–encouraging people who have no interest in a niche of a niche genre of fiction to write in it simply because few people of color write this type of horror.

Are people of color purposefully left out of Lovecraftian horror? Of course not. Culturally, this type of fiction hasn’t historically appealed to people of color. Historically, the people who have most often chosen to write it have been American and Western European white dudes.

This does not in and of itself make Lovecraftian fiction inherently bigoted. The best and most famous H.P. Lovecraft historian, S.T. Joshi, is a person of color. What IS sexist is excluding men from a Lovecraftian anthology. What IS racist is singling out people of color to write for an anthology based solely on their race. What she means by “Put your own spin on it” is, “Why don’t you make it black?” Which is blatantly offensive to anyone who celebrates egalitarianism, real diversity and true equality.

Older, Moreno-Garcia, and Broaddus recently helped edit People of Colo(u)r Destroy Fantasy and People of Colo(u)r Destroy Horror, special issues of Fantasy magazine and Nightmare magazine written, edited, and illustrated by people of color. People of color have recently become much more vocal within the fantasy and horror communities, which has led to a certain amount of backlash, but Older says that criticisms of authors such as Lovecraft should be viewed as part of a healthy fan dialog.

I would venture to guess that absolutely none of the backlash comes from the fact that people of color are writing horror and fantasy fiction. But rather that editors are curating fiction for anthologies that specifically exclude white people based on their race instead of the merit of their work.

Criticizing Lovecraft for his contextually historic racism really does nothing to help with 2017 race relations. It’s not a healthy dialog. In fact it’s everything that’s wrong with race relations in this country. America is a cultural melting pot. That means that any culture is welcome to live here alongside all other cultures.

It does NOT mean that it’s ok to infiltrate a community, draw a line down the middle, choose one side to be an oppressed minority and the other side an oppressive majority based solely on race and gender.

It does not mean that it’s ok to artificially inject a racial equilibrium and then change the speech and behavior of the established community to conform to the new population. That creates resentment on both sides and fosters exactly the kind of fear and violence we see popping off on the daily in our communities today.

Marxism fails as a form of government and it fails as a social experiment. Marxism simply fails in practice, no matter what your gender studies professor told you in college.

Silvia Moreno-Garcia on science fiction conventions:

“I went to one in Vancouver, in a section of the city called Richmond, which is predominantly Asian and Chinese, so when you’re outside all the signs are in Chinese, and everyone is Chinese, basically, and then I went into the hotel where the convention was happening, and everybody inside was white. … And I was just kind of like, ‘Why aren’t these people [of color] here?’ There were a ton of people outside, but they weren’t going into the convention. And it wasn’t like they weren’t consuming products, because I know some of these people watch shows or read comics or whatever, but it seemed like two different worlds. It was the strangest sensation.”

Again, what we have here is an SJW entering a community and then doing what SJWs do best: playing “find the bigot.” They’re bigoteers.

They exploit the inherent goodness in people by artificially creating a problem that is non-existent and then courageously offering a solution which inevitably restricts free speech, makes people hyper aware of the race, gender and sexual orientation of their peers, then seeks to gain control over the community with some kind of ridiculous politically correct Code of Conduct.

There were obviously no signs at this convention banning the attendance of people of color. The observation that this innocent seeming SJW is making is that the culture outside of the building is different from the culture inside the building. In true Cultural Marxist fashion, it’s her go-to reaction to find that the group outside MUST be somehow oppressed and deprived of the activities going on inside because, in her words, “I know some of these people watch shows or read comics, or whatever.”

Yeah, or whatever. The whatever is that they enjoy a rich culture all their own which does not expressly EXCLUDE anyone from an outside culture, but is predominantly practiced by those who were raised inside of it. That’s a GOOD thing. That’s cultural enrichment. That’s diversity. That’s multiculturalism. The fact that you can walk down a street and see two different cultures thriving side by side IS THE HALLMARK OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION.  It’s literally what makes America America (or Canada Canada, in this case.)

Had she thrown open the doors and tossed comic books into the air outside the convention, I imagine that what she thinks would happen is that the people milling about outside would suddenly dive for the comics, sit down on the ground wide eyed and astonished at the super heroes fighting the super villains inside the pages and weep in gratitude that she finally exposed them to spandex laden crime fighters. A culture they surely had no idea existed until she came along and freed their locked minds from their comic book opression.

The reality is, if any of them gave a fuck to spend 75 dollars on a weekend pass, dress up as their favorite Avenger and drop another 40-80 bucks per signature for celebrity autographs, they sure as hell would already be inside doing just that.  Forcing cultural assimilation is racist. Assuming a culture is repressed because it doesn’t indulge in your favorite past times as often as you is racist. This woman is racist.

Maurice Broaddus on “Status Quo Warriors”:

“There are people who want the status quo, and that’s what they’re advocating for. And even though I’ve taken a step back over the last couple years from being provocative online, I ended up getting in a shouting match with an editor because he was trying to defend his all-white anthology, and I’m like, ‘That’s all right. Own it. You wanted the status quo, you read only within your little comfort zone, you aren’t trying to find new voices, you want the voices that you’ve grown up with and that fit your little taste, and you don’t want to do the work of finding new voices. That’s fine, just own it.’ So yeah, you have editors who just want to fight for the status quo.”

I’ve never seen the term before but I assume “Status Quo Warriors” is some kind of weak SJW attempt to impart their own pejorative ending in “warrior” onto people who use common sense and logic to destroy their racist and culturally insensitive rhetoric.

So this is nonsense. This is utter racist nonsense. I don’t know which editor nor which anthology he’s referring to, but as a former publisher of genre fiction, I can take a pretty educated guess.

I’ve published people of color and I’ve published women but anytime I ever put a call out for open submissions the POC and female subs were few and far between. It’s my guess that our quoted author here picked up an already published anthology (or worse, was rejected from it and lashed out with the race card in protest. But that’s purely speculation on my part.) and combed through it looking for the race and gender of each writer included in the table of contents.

Which again, is totally racist and sexist. The merit of the stories and the authors themselves is unimportant. Our quoted author only sees race and gender. Not individuals. Not people with families and jobs who struggle and work hard to produce the best fiction they possibly can. To SJWs, if you don’t forward The Narrative of artificial diversity and artificial equality, you don’t matter.

My guess is that purely coincidentally, purely based on merit, purely based on a shortage or complete lack of submissions from people of color because the subject matter of the submission call didn’t appeal to them, this particular anthology ended up being full of white authors. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this editor is as much a racist as our quoted authors above. But I doubt it.

In closing, I have no doubt that the SJWs will win this battle to shame H.P. Lovecraft into oblivion. Why? Because he was a racist and doesn’t deserve to be celebrated as a cultural and literary icon? No.

Because no one inside the Lovecraftian horror community has the balls to stand up and say what I just said right here. Don’t have the balls to stand up against race baiting articles like the one Wired posted. Don’t have the balls to do what’s right and stand for common sense, logic and true egalitarianism.

Lovecraftian horror will die because the community is full of a bunch of SJW loving PC pussies.