All Comments on 'The Gun That Killed Superman'

I notice no other comment - or perhaps you delete those like mine?<P>

To contrive this sick menage requires a mind in tune and in love with a sadly dark painful place.<P>

Inquisitively, how many times did moma drop you on your head?<P>

You disappoint. Anyone can write distorted mind dampening negativism so one wonders why someone with talent and knows it would do it? <P>

Just because you could is a predictable and poor answer especially with the self serving exclusive lead-in.<P>

You could and have done better with one hand - elsewhere. Not a proud moment in your portfolio eh.

there are some intriguing concepts behind these depraved scenes. many well turned phrases, though the prose turns purple at times. /////

it's a little confusing what you're after, since sometimes you really go for the reader's crotch, other times you aim a kick at his stomach. it seems you're experimenting with violence, especially violent degrading sex. it has a bit of an Bret Ellis feel but far more sexual, and NOT told in flat Ellis style fashion./////

the basic staging requires more thinking through: he's watching his wife apparently being raped, but also, at times enjoying it, which is what she says after.//////

what effect are you aiming for in having him be an observer? you do convey to the reader his sick fascination and disgust. that's well done. further the timing makes the scene a kind of surrogate for one he might have set up to punish her. though in another sense, she's hardly being 'punished' (if she wants it).//////

in the end, of course, he's abject, apparently being encouraged to kill himself and possibly considering it.

an interesting twist though not entirely 'motivated.' presumably, he's abject since his wife's such a slut and he's failed to do anything about it.//////

it's an interesting half successful writing experiment. good luck in mining this vein.

Nice to see a story in this section that doesn't end up apologising for itself.

he had a gun but didn't shoot anyone. Man if I had been there then someone would have died. You are nothing as a writer. I think your brain is deseased. Since I saw your pic I am sure of it.....marriedwithballs@yahoo.com

I read all of your stories, I ration them out, I read one per day. This was not my favorite day.

I think that I understand why you wrote it, and I think I understand the story. I wish it were easier somehow, nicer, but I get why its not. You did well with what you set out to do, but it didn't make me feel terribly good. Probably the point, well written, certainly commendable, but damn doc, this one kicked me right in the guts.

Even if it's the fatal kind. Write that. Stone cold, black hearted revenge on those that definitely need and deserve it.

And why wouldn't he heal up and just go after them one at a time or bring the whole building down on them all? Certainly Rubio and the wife need to die. I can't imagine any other ending to this sick story. And in case you're a reader that looks at comments before reading a story - don't bother to read this sick little story as not only is it a waste of time but it has no real ending.

make them all pay one at a time. Especially Olivia. Make her pay, seriously make her pay. Someone write a sequel.

My own fantasizes can be violent, dark, and disturbing. While many of the darkest ones I would never participate in, they exist and I like to know that I'm honest enough with myself to acknowledge them. I have read many if your works on the site, and I appreciate your exploration into this darker realm.

This story is my litmus test for anyone who asks to know my deepest and darkest secrets. All of your themes about objectification are so exquisite, even this one. There's beauty in this horror, and for as awful as it seems to most people, the relationship between Rubio and Olivia felt magical to me. Like one of the original Grimm Fairy Tales- macabre and brutal, but honest and pure.

I've been through many, many evolutions in my short years, and I've finally decided to stop settling and put my most fucked up self on display. If I ever want to experience that, I would have to be able to ask for it. This story, in fact, most of your work, has helped me learn how to articulate that. And artfully.

Due entirely to that proclamation of mine, last night, I took a fist from a man I'd just met in the alley behind the restaurant where we'd had dinner, and, for the first time in my life, instead of hoping that maybe he could be my Prince Charming, I prayed with everything I had that I could be his Olivia. I'd never be able to be at peace with that part of myself if you hadn't written this. Thank you.

You should use the bullets on yourself. This was shit, your going to hell