Mel Vil's Blog, page 13

The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The most memorable introduction I had to this book was that it was one of those enduring sets of ideas, from which each enthused reader would take something different. And indeed that it what I found. The result is that the read tells you little about the end of Italy’s dark ages and more about your own personal struggle with life. Machiavelli’s nobility, mercenaries and people become like the mountains, valleys and the earth of Chinese...

It’s been a busy month! Three new book covers are the result. You can check the new artwork out here, or better still, surf over to your favourite online book store and see what they look like in situ:

Elevated: an anthology of short stories

Buy ‘Elevated’ at Amazon, Smashwords, iTunes

Buenos Aires and the Origins of Sausse

Buy ‘Buenos Aires and the Origins of Sausse’ at Amazon, Smashwords, [coming soong to] iTunes

Buenos Aliens: a novel

Buy ‘Buenos Aliens’ at Amazon, Smashwords, iTunes

Bio:

Mel Vil...

Control your emotions,

After all, they’re all you have

Left of your animal side.

Be cold and calculating,

Suppress all attempts at expression,

And remain non-violent.

Emotions are uncivilised,

The remnants of some forgotten story.

Time for you to forget them.

Control your emotions,

Watch passively as they surge inside.

And hold your tongue fast.

They’re only mischief,

Guiding you up the garden path,

And down the social ladder.

Be hollow and steadfast,

Predictable, fair and transparent.

Know your limits.

Contro...

Il faut que j’écrive mon carnet de voyage pour le week-end que je viens de passer aux Pays-bas. Et pourquoi pas en français. En effet, c’est pas le choix de langue qui est difficile mais plutôt ce de forme narratif. Ordre chronologique sera l’optimale, mais grâce aux trous dans mon souvenir, absence de tout logique locale, géographique, ce n’est plus une option. Par thème sera plus intéressant, j’ai déjà considéré quelque chose de très classique pour un tel voyage, genre physical, mental, spi...

She was right,

It does bronze.

Now a perfect light

Liquid amber nectar

Overflowing the Seine

Casting an invisible column

Barely broken at all

By the panoramic left bank

And Pont du Carousel.

Yet by me, crossed legs

Edges soft and hard alike,

Are dowsed by this Irish Cream.

My ideas flow around this spot

Unlike the runners who pass,

Now I’ve soaked into the wall

This immense slab of stone,

Sun, light, paper, clothes and all

A fondant of ochre transparency

A fire that dampens all

But the most arid fragrances

Paris...

I fill with a burning lack of satisfaction

Yearn to descend into a dirty fit

A dive that can’t continue

A futile feeling leading to another

I feel the need to consume endlessly

To pursue a never-ending cycle of profit and purchase

Look at things I know will never satisfy me

Be drawn by things I can’t yet afford

And that beckon a future fate excluding them

Spared thanks to a primary aversion to fashion

I walk away from perpetual pursuits

Made by discounted Italian designer tailors

From the Rue de Rhone to...

Give the s/he a job, and they’ll create an army to protect it.

Will the balloon burst undoing decades’ progress?

Or are we merely returning to the status quo?

At any rate the overbearing monotony

Wears our patience thin and pockets empty.

The poetic life beckons moths adamantly,

While lawyers bid to please each other,

For better or worse they speak mealy-mouthed.

Deciding what will be decided and

Holding hoops for those free to move.

The post The Art of Conformity appeared first on villemél.

Open the doors to the Underground

Fancy a debauched weekend in Buenos Aires? Download Buenos Aliens #free and be transported to the Paris of the South…

The post Open the doors to the Underground appeared first on villemél.

Qui pousse vite crée des racines peu profondes.

The post Qui pousse vite… appeared first on villemél.

Buenos Aliens

Smooth-talking, drug-dealing Mario Lati has been banned from v.i.p. at Pacha—where he’d fortunately just met exiled backpackers Ronni Teel and Hector P. These gonzo tourists had set out in search of the European dream. They’d found Buenos Aires, an El dorado where they could rid their clothes of the smell of money. By sticking to one-way tickets, they’d saved themselves a few precious pennies, whereas all of a sudden for Mario Lati, pennies had to be counted.

He has tried everythi...