http://www.forteanbureau.com/ en-us 2006-04-10T09:44:44-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives//april_2006_editorial.html I don't really like endings, but here we are. For now at least, this will be the last issue of the Fortean Bureau.... JeremyT 2006-04-10T09:44:44-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/please_kill_me/please_kill_.html It's fitting, I suppose, that this column wraps up in the same way it began. The more wonderful and attentive readers among you may remember the first "Please Kill Me", which featured comments from Michael Cunningham, the literary writer who was thrilled and amazed that some science fiction qualified, to his mind, as literature. And the guy wasn't just faking the funk; his readings inspired his subsequent pretty good semi-SFNal novel-in-stories Specimen Days.... Please Kill Me JeremyT 2006-04-10T09:37:08-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/april_2006/taos_meolody.html "The freak show's here," Jon Singer said. In Japanese. The army guy driving the shit-brown Tahoe turned to look at the two boys in the back seat, ignoring the ice-slick New Mexico highway. "Wha'd he say?" "Don't know," Ian Singer said. "He's speaking Jap. Or something." "Yeah, but whaddoes it mean?" Ian shrugged. "Fuck if I know. I'm not him."... April 2006 JeremyT 2006-04-10T08:51:11-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/december_2005/there_once_w.html Mexico City glowed for Agnes -- called to her in her dreams like a lover, sultry and full of heat. Here, her mother had assured her, she could gain strength.... December 2005 JeremyT 2006-04-10T08:42:19-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/april_2006/bonesstron.html Have you seen, in fields of snow, frozen Jews, row on row? Blue marble forms lying, not breathing, not dying... -Avrom Sutzkever... April 2006 JeremyT 2006-04-10T08:38:44-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/april_2006/the_soul_bot.html Editors Note: This story appeared previously in Leviathan 4. In my boyhood it was the fashion among the established families of the City Imperishable, much aped by the arrivistes, to believe that one's soul fled with each exhalation, and was recaptured with every indrawn breath. Lovers eagerly seized yet another excuse to exchange essences, while members of the Glasswright Guild profited handsomely from tiny "soul bottles" meant to arrest the airy spirit lest it take flight in a strong wind. Parlor magicians compounded spells from the breath of the mighty while scholars in their towers attempted to distill essence of soul.... April 2006 JeremyT 2006-04-10T08:14:39-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/editorials/closed_to_submission.html The Fortean Bureau is now closed to submissions indefinitely. We will be publishing our last issue (for the time being) in the first week of April. Thanks to everyone for their support.... Editorials JeremyT 2006-03-20T13:03:17-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/editorials/december_200.html Hi, thanks for stopping by the Fortean Bureau for our December 2005 issue. We've been making a lot of changes behind the scenes here in the past several months, as well as developing a format for a hybrid model to keep the Fortean Bureau running into the far future. This issue, we'd like to tell you a little bit about that.... Editorials JeremyT 2005-12-06T08:48:34-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/december_2005/please_kill_.html December 2005 JeremyT 2005-12-06T08:37:03-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/december_2005/mulhollands.html Warning: The author accepts no responsibility for the actions of anyone searching for the places or plants described in this piece, nor for any global disasters which may result from genetic engineering experiments inspired by descriptions of the Mulholland needleless tree. The accuracy of the directions to Blue Lake Junction are not guaranteed. Consult your travel agent, geneticist, or attorney for more information.... December 2005 JeremyT 2005-12-06T06:55:38-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/december_2005/christmas_ev.html In Loving Memory of My Brother, Major R. David Witchey The last place Major R. David Witchey wanted to be on Christmas Eve was on the ground dealing with rum eggnog, carolers, and all the mythic crap of Christmas. Running hot on both burners at 20,000 feet was the kind of rush David had dreamed of since he was a kid opening used presents in the orphanage. At thirty, he was above it all -- on and gone past Santa Claus, Christmas cheer, and people who mentally and physically never left the ground. His ass warmed the seat of 50 million dollars of steel, firepower, and dual F-15 screaming thrust.... December 2005 JeremyT 2005-12-06T05:05:16-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/december_2005/baobabsstr.html December 2005 JeremyT 2005-12-06T04:09:11-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/december_2005/he_whose_fac.html He had been seen high in the hills, in heavy artisan's sackcloth, face darkly hooded, chisels and mallets in oilskins over his shoulder. He had descended through pine and elm and was spied later under willows at the river crossing. A messenger had raced over the oak bridge to ring the bell in the market square, gathering us in the morning mist.... December 2005 JeremyT 2005-12-06T03:16:47-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/september_2005/editorial_.html This issue is an experiment. Readers of The Fortean Bureau have come to expect outstanding short fiction written with a 'fortean' flair. However, after a bit of cajoling, Jeremy Tolbert agreed that I could edit the September issue, and that I could fill it with speculative and fortean poetry. My goal was to find poems that would read easily and be enjoyable at first blush, yet contain a elements of the unexplained. I think I succeeded. I sincerely hope you agree. As a bonus for our readers I have included in this issue; "Dog Girls" in order to satisfy your short fiction thirst, a guest commentary by Bruce Boston, Grand Master of the Science Fiction Poetry Association, and beautiful artwork by Marge Simon, Rhysling Award winning poet and artist. Enjoy!... September 2005 JeremyT 2005-11-18T16:32:30-07:00 http://www.forteanbureau.com/archives/september_2005/dog_girlss.html Every Saturday morning the Dog Girls met at Ory's Diner for an early breakfast. They told rambling stories and laughed a lot. They talked about hard times, tedious husbands, weather, crops and how to take care of day to day stuff. "For that kind of nicker, I would check the carburetor," one of them said once. They took good care of their cars and trucks.... September 2005 JeremyT 2005-11-18T14:32:36-07:00