Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Tommy Swan: A Self-Made Mad Man

As I told you all yesterday, today's post was supposed to be about Mr. Tony Fetzer. Unfortunately there's been a little delay in that department. Attempts to interview him turned out a little less than satisfactory but never fear! I'm sure the ol' grouch will come around sooner or later.

In the mean time let's take a look at my dearest and most tragic friend, Mr. Tommy Swan.

A disheveled and odd gentleman at the least. A desperate psychotic at the worst. Mr. Swan appears to be about twenty to thirty years of age. His hair is a proverbial rat's nest and his once prim suit appears to have been torn to bits. The man spends most of his time wandering about in circles muttering gibberish only his twisted and tangled mind can understand. I sat down with Tommy in order to have a small conversation.

JM: Alright Tommy! We'll take it nice and slow. What can you tell us about yourself?

TS: I was born of light, and made the shadows.

JM: That was beautiful Tommy, but vague as well. Please be specific.

TS: There can't be shadows without light, I don't know much about much but the light makes the shadows. This place is full of shadows, and I must be the light.

A tragic case indeed. His eyes glance from wall to wall, trapped in the eternal maze of his own insanity as well as the physical maze as well.

JM: Did you have a family.

TS: My mother was nothingness, birthed from chaos, and I am light.

JM: You poor sad fellow.

TS: From nothing came chaos, from chaos came the light, from the light came the shadows, from the shadows came fear, from the fear came courage, and from the courage came knowledge, and from knowledge came evil.

JM: What you would say if you simply understood.

His eyes glance towards my tape recorder and he makes a grab for it.

JM: No I'm afraid this is mine.

TS: The mechanism! The clockwork! The hearth in the storm!

JM: This is about perserving a story my dear fellow, it isn't for your hearth.

TS: Those who dance with their tongues deserve to have them cut off.

JM: Oh if only you made any sense.

TF: I thought I told you to cut it out you little piece of shit!

Unfortunately at that point my interview was cut short by Mr. Fetzer, a world class opposer of the literary arts. I suppose you can see the gist of it though, the madness of a poor Mr. Swan.

No one can say how he came to be this way, but through any unfortunate number of events, it's a wonder is he'll ever return to coherency.

Stay tuned for the next interview.

Until then, keep strong!


  1. Tommy does make a sort of sense, if you look at things sideways. His last comment... *snerk*

    Does this mean Tony's next?

  2. Perhaps. He has a tendency of being very stubborn about these things, but I'll find a way to persuade him! You can count on it.

  3. Crazy huh? Mr. Macaroni, ever heard the phrase "The ones who are claimed to be insane, in reality, are saner than the person who gives them the title". Now I'm no poet, God forbid, but Fetzer speaks no gibberish, he speaks on a language you can not understand tis all. Not to mention, hearing some call, someone crazy from a guy that is hiding something that is slowly eating him up from inside, behind his obsessed work, yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah.

    And I think he is onto something, everything is created from Chaos, what is Chaos? Another form of Destruction, what is Evil? Also another from of Destruction. Everything begins from Destruction and everything ends in it, Fetzer isn't insane, he is ten steps ahead. I believe he answered all of the questions you asked above, he was born from Destruction, he will die from Destruction.

    And nothing else matters.

    But twas a simple assumption.

    1. Don't try to locate secrecy where there is none. I have no deep dark secret. To have one would be contrary since I report all for the intent of a stories integrity my dear fellow.

      And what good would professing chaos and darkness do when a situation needs concrete answers? The prose do little good in deciphering the cold hard facts.

  4. Reality is even more flexible than the definitions and metaphors we use to try and grasp it. The madmen are the ones who even try!

    1. And sometimes, they succeed.

    2. If you think so. They just make their own way of processing it, decide whether they give a shit or not. Everyone does.

  5. You're a dumb fucking son of a bitch.

    1. And you have a mouth in need of some Life Boy.

  6. So from this, I can tell a few things. An obsession with mechanisms links to one of the fears;The Manufactured Infant, if I remember rightly. As for the 'Born of light and shadow and chaos' stuff, I'm willing to bet he's been wiped like a disc with a magnet. Mind completely fried by the fears.
    The 'Those who dance with their tongues deserve to have them cut off' bit shows that he shares my high regard for journalists, although he has even less self restraint than me. So he's a ticking timebomb who hates your guts. Be on your guard, or kill him. I have the feeling you won't take this advice, will get jumped by him, and rather than learning your lesson fall for it again and again. Kind of like Sanna's trusting nature (but at least she's more or less over that now).

    1. Tommy? No Tommy may be a mad man, but he woudn't hurt a fly. Not to mention the boy's just a stick of a man. No match for my hardened physique!

  7. Sudden thought; Could you please describe how you ended up in this labyrinth? Because it could have been slendy, in which case you won't be in the best mental health, but you may get out of it. Or it could be the empty city. If it is, you're not getting out. Sorry.

    1. I did describe it to you! One moment I was off with the story to unveil the Slenderman, and the next I'm waking up in a dark cold maze.

      The empty city? Where have I heard that name before. Hmmm..

    2. Just making sure you couldn't remember anything else. Seems more like slendy than the city, so that's good.

      And the Empty City is a meeting place for fears. Neutral ground. Sometimes, doorways open to it on the material plane. If you go through one of those doors, you can never leave. You just stay lost until you die.