Tag: weird

Toys R U

It was a toy, and yet it wasn’t. It was carefully constructed by a member of a terribly sophisticated civilization in order to help its young ones learn things which, to a human, are indescribable. It existed in numerous dimensions… Yeah, that’s a new Fnool. Just continue reading, will you? That is – click!

 

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New Year, New Fnool

Don’t know anything about the Fnools? Don’t worry, they don’t know anything about you either. So far.
Get ready, then. Read a few. It might save your life. A new one was just born. It’s here.

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The Fnools are Among Us

I feel that it is my duty, as a citizen and a person, to report the invasion of the Fnools. They are here. They hide in plain sight. And they have a terrible, horrible weapon.

You can hide, but you can’t run.

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Publishing the Word of God

My short story, The Word of God, was just re-published by ChiZine in their Chiaroscuro project.  As it happens, today is Israel’s independence day, which makes this a bit bitter-sweet: it reminds me how far we are from having true independence – independence from god. I mean, I like god in its proper place – literature. As for its place in real life, I can only quote B. A. Baracus: “I pity the fools!”

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Capital Conspiracy

My short film, Conspiracy, will be screened this week at the Sci-Fi-London film festival. Which means I’m going there. Fun fun fun!

Actor Moran Kal takes the role of the student in the film

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Conspiracy

Here it is, my first film – Conspiracy – now with English subtitles:

Conspiracy from Nir Yaniv on Vimeo.

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The Word of God

My story, The Word of God (translated into English by Lavie Tidhar), now appears at the World SF Blog. Right here.

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The Last Days of Tel Aviv

About a year ago, a book I’ve written with Lavie Tidhar, The Tel Aviv Dossier, has been published by ChiZine Publications in Canada. This week I’m happy to announce the release of the Hebrew edition, by Odyssey Press.

front_sm.jpg

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TAD to the People

The Boston Book Bums blog has just reviewed The Tel Aviv Dossier:

The book’s strength comes from its unapologetic balance of surrealism and biblical authenticity. While some may get hung up on the weirdly comedic moments juxtaposed by death and revelation, the strangeness is actually magnified by realizing the writing team might be showing us new books of the Bible, but with a dark slap stick touch.

And an interview with Lavie and myself has just been published by SF Signal, celebrating the 2nd edition of the book:

CT: You’re both flexible writers but which format are you most comfortable with? The short story or the novel? What do you think are the strengths of each?

LT: I’m more flexible than Nir because I have less of a body mass. The guy is huge! Did you know he played a monster in a horror movie? (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFXQfn47cwU) And that’s not make-up, either!

NY: I only look huge to you, lad, because of my charisma. That’s quite understandable. However, I take pity of you small people – I’m talking here about your mental capacities, of course – so my reign is generous and peaceful.

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The City in the Sky

The city in the sky floats on a too black, too high and mostly too heavy cloud. Both emit a constant rain of sewer and trash on everything unlucky enough to be positioning underneath, and especially on the cumulus villages, whose poor inhabitants never get to quietly herd their wooly clouds and make a decent living.

From time to time, delegations of angry villagers come to the city and register a complaint, but no one has the tiniest clue what they’re talking about. The weather in the city is always fine, and only several feather clouds are seen in the sky. There’s no sign of trash and the air is clear, if cold and a bit thin. The villagers, choked, frozen and green with envy, return to their homes empty handed, and spend the rest of their days cleaning the sewer and the trash and trying, in vain, to avoid the course of the flying city.

One day they shall rise up, attack the city, set it on fire, empty it of its inhabitants and push it away, far, far away, never to be seen again. Only then they’ll find out that their own wooly clouds must feed upon rains of sewer and trash, and nothing else. But by then it will be too late.

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