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Category Archives: Fiction

A Brief History of the Mustache in Cinema

By Daedalus Howell | July 24th, 2004
Sad to report that our documentary film, A Brief History of the Mustache in Cinema, has been shaved from the development slate of upstart cable network Hair TV. Collaborator Cary Carpe and I had been tapped to track the mustache through cinema for the new channel (a sort of E! for all things follicular) after producers [...]
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Just Add Pee

By Daedalus Howell | May 7th, 2003
By my own precise design, I have always aspired to be what women’s magazines pithily refer to as a DINK ? double income, no kids. My own my mother says that kind of thinking can only lead to being a SKANK ? single, killjoy and no kids What she fails to realize is that I [...]
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Alas!

By Daedalus Howell | August 7th, 2002
It’s not that I shoplifted per se, I don’t even shop – let alone for clothes. I’ve evolved past the “hunter-gatherer” stereotypes. Moreover, I have the fashion sense of a color-blind chameleon, which is to say I wear a lot of black. Many women dress to camouflage their perceived flaws. I dress not to be naked. [...]
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Secretary

By Daedalus Howell | July 4th, 2002
Let me tell you about corporate power. Our company is the perfect specimen of the multinational conglomerate, so diverse in its operations, so vast in its holdings that, in our competitors’ commercials, they simply refer to us as Brand X. My boss, Mr. Gamete, is in acquisitions and development. There is a constant barrage of business [...]
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Le Temp

By Daedalus Howell | June 17th, 2002
Anyone who’s done a modicum of living knows that one’s career trajectory is never how it was imagined when a child. I, for example, am not a veterinary pioneer or a superhero. I do not remove a thorn from a paw or save the day or live forever. I am a temp ? a sufficiently [...]
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Zig-Zag

By Daedalus Howell | June 7th, 2002
Thrice divorced, Dad is a collage of his various wives’ good intentions. His first wife, my mother, cultivated in him the ability to shrewdly market his talent as an artist, an investment that would eventually come to buoy her alimony when they divorced three year later. His second wife, a summery coffee company heiress (whom Mom [...]
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Mum

By Daedalus Howell | April 7th, 2002
I had prepared my answer. I had practiced it in the mirror between applications of lip gloss. I knew when she asked exactly how I would respond: “Yes, yes, damn it. End of story.” And it would be a lie. We did Mother’s Day because Mom claimed to have forgotten her birthday (at the behest of [...]
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The Late Projectionist

By Daedalus Howell | July 19th, 1999
Or, From Angst to Zilch: The Portable Buntel Eriksson Filmography a novel by Daedalus Howell Part One 1. The Lumiere Cinemas Clamor, racket, fracas, din… The door to the projection booth was an onerous mash of darkly painted kindling and kitchen cabinet hinges that only shut an eighth inch eke into its jamb; and this after much shouldering and cursing. [...]
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