from poetry to... sequential art!

An auld project... Should it get forgotten, I would just cry for it could mean that the boy inside the man is ready to... die? Say it isn't so Luciano! It isn't so Luciano...! ;)

"Q U A N T U M
W A R R I O R S"
F I R S T
I S S U E
S C R I P T (5 pages out of 25)
PAGE ONE (splash)
Establishing shot of the void of space, filled however with all manners of glimmering astral bodies. The alignment of some forms the distinctive shapes of two warriors; muscle-bound barbarians locked in a deadly sword duel for eternity. Ominous signs zoom by; comets and shooting stars. Other, slightly less ominous astral phenomena, complement this stunning tableau...


1. CAP: LEGENDS OF ANCIENT LORE SPEAK OF KINGS AND WARLORDS LOCKED IN ETERNAL COMBAT IN THE REALM OF THE GODS WHOSE DOMAIN THEY NOW SHARE.

2. CAP: MYTHICAL WARRIORS FOR THE MOST PART, WHO FOUGHT THEIR QUARRY BEYOND DEATH ITSELF AND AGAINST ALL THE LAWS OF A STILL UNBORN SCIENCE.

3. CAP: ONE COULD SEE THEM, UNCOUNTED FABLES SAID, IN THE SKY, AFTER DUSK, BATTLING ON AMONGST THE STARS.

4. CAP: THEY WERE THEMSELVES AS INCANDESCENT AS STARS - GIANTS IN THE SKY, IN A SORT OF JOINT BLESSING AND CURSE BESTOWED UPON THEM BY THE VERY GODS THEY WORSHIPPED.

5. CAP: THE ECTOPLASMIC LEGERDEMAIN OF THESE ASTRAL TITANS WAS TO LAST FOREVER, FOR ALL TO SEE AND ADMIRE. A TRULY COSMIC LEGACY. ONE THAT BELIED THE TRUTH.

PAGE TWO
(four panels)
Panel one: Ensemble shot of our galaxy, the magnificent Milky Way
in all its splendor, complete with a medium-size tenth planet...! Comets streak by... Meteorites dance around in swirls around the sun... Asteroids are swooping by, too... The works! No need to milk it any more than that, hmm?


1. CAP: AS MANKIND EVOLVED, PRIMITIVE BELIEFS WITHERED. AGE-OLD SAGAS WERE EVOKED AS NO MORE THAN THE EARLIEST FORM OF FICTION.


2. CAP: BUT WHAT IF THESE ANCIENT ALLEGORIES WERE TO BE FOUND SIGNIFICANT IN A TOTALLY UNEXPECTED WAY? AND WHAT IF THESE EARLY EPICS WERE TO BE FOUND AS CREDIBLE ACCOUNTS OF EVENTS YET TO TAKE PLACE...?


Panel two: Establishing shot. A fleet of awe-inspiring alien spaceships is seen orbiting a tiny yellowish planet devoid of any natural satellites. The ships -one after the other, all in a row- form two rings encircling the planet; one for the northern hemisphere and one for the southern. They are vaguely saucer-like ships, but spiky and embossed in some exotic manner - I leave the final design up to you. A large gap between the two rings is visibly covered by a brimming hot orange-tinted force field, which vaporizes any space debris that may enter in contact with it...

1. CAP: EVENTS THAT WOULD TAKE PLACE IN A REMOTE -VERY REMOTE- FUTURE...?!?



Panel three: Medium shot, zooming in on the spaceship at the center of the northern hemisphere. No activity around it -yet- but details could be added... The important thing is that the focus is on a window which enables the reader to peek inside - though all seems to be quiet and there is nothing stirring anywhere... Much less a mouse...

1. CAP: ONLY THE NAMES WOULD NOT BE THE SAME - FOR THESE WOULD BE REBORN LEGENDS THAT HAD NEVER BEEN ALLOWED TO TRULY BE BEFORE THIS DAY... LEGENDS THAT HAD GONE FORGOTTEN FOR HAVING VANISHED TOO SOON IN THE MISTS OF TIME, BEFORE HAVING EVEN BECOME A PART OF ANY MYTHOS...

2. XALA (off-panel, but clearly from inside the ship!): SIR OLIVER, KNIGHT OF GLASTONBURY...



Panel four: Full shot of the dark room, seen from the inside now, and we discover it full of scintillating machinery. Light emanates from a door at the extreme right end of the panel; a yellowish/orangeish light... The shape of a woman is seen outlined in said light...

1. CAP: LEGENDS THAT TRULY BEGIN TODAY!

2. XALA (the woman): ... ARISE FROM YOUR SLUMBER, FOR YOU HAVE BEEN CALLED TO BATTLE AT LONG LAST!



PAGE THREE
Splash of the room, as the lights come on and a sleeping compartment deploys itself vertically, from the wall on the left side of the panel. Sir Oliver is there all right -awakening from one nightmare onto another. He shakes off the cobwebs painfully, grimacing as he struggles to get out of the apparent custom-made module. He is a typical knight of Camelot - with a vague eagle-like emblem somewhere on his armor... He is dark-haired with some silver streaks running through his locks dastardly... As for Xala, she is now fully seen too and her looks (combining alien facial traits with a stunning bone structure and reddish-blonde hair cascading down her long neck...) are quite astonishingly as paradoxically... stunning!

1. OLIVER: BY THE LORD JESU ALL-MIGHTY...

2. OLIVER: WHO GOES THERE? WHO ART THEE? WHERE... AM I?!?

3. CAP: "Warriors,warriors we call ourselves. We fight for splendid virtue, for high endeavor, for sublime wisdom, therefore we call ourselves warriors." - Aunguttara Nikaya

(THE LOGO & CREDITS ALSO APPEAR HERE; NO OTHER STORY TITLE NECESSARY FOR THIS INAUGURAL ISSUE...)



PAGE FOUR (five panels)
Panel one: Medium shot of Oliver and full shot of Xala who stays on the threshold as the knight continues to thrash about ever so slightly. Her left hand is on a console on the wall - her right hand is extended towards Ollie here in typical ''we come in peace'' FIRST CONTACT pose...

1. XALA: You have seen me before; in your dreams. Or at least you believed to have been dreaming... But I am real. I am Xala of Zurtopia, the peaceful planetary kingdom you are sworn to defend now, against its worst enemies...

2. OLIVER: S-Sworn...? My duty is to my king and to my Lord Alone...



Panel two: Ensemble shot of the room as three other ''sleeping beasts'' (as opposed to sleeping beauties) are awakened through the exact same proceedings... Smoke fills the room, as these cold chambers crack open and out come these giants, one by one... Easy on the smoke though; just enough to shroud in mystery the three other warriors a little while longer...! Ollie looks stunned by all that's happening...

1. XALA: Your ability of recollecting the events that brought you here will return progressively. And that applies to all of you...

2. OLIVER: By Jesu...!!!



Panel three: Full shot of the Musketeer, as he emerges from the smoke dramatically and with panache... but looking less than happy! The huge stylized cross on his chest, the full regalia of a musketeer - complete with feather in hat - he is by far the most stylish of the four warriors present here...

1. XALA: The count du Vallon de la Fère - one of the most meritorious MUSKETEERS ever...



Panel four: Full shot of the well-built (hence beefier) Outlander of service in this case, as he comes forth now... Topless and bald, he appears to be garbed from the waist down with some animal skin that he hunted for himself...

1. XALA: The wanderer who originated from Athens; and whose wish to remain known only as The Outlander we will respect...



Panel five: Finally, a full shot of ''Argon'' (really Harkhon) - the Viking Warrior with a predestined name! He too steps out of the mist dramatically... Has redhair and beard & mustache to match - a muscle tone that rivals Outlander's and more... And he is himself barely dressed really...

1. XALA: And the valiant seafaring Norseman known to some as Argon The Brave...


PAGE FIVE
(six panels)
Panel one: Ensemble shot of the suddenly crowded room, as a visibly ticked-off Sir Oliver begins to think he's fallen into a sorcerous trap and that, quite obviously to him, this ''Xala'' could perhaps be Morgaine Le Fay in disguise...! He draws his sword which was still in its sheath after all this time spent in suspended animation...

1. XALA: Welcome to Zurtopia - all of you...

2. OLIVER: Enough, mischievous lass! Thy lies cannot confound one of the Table Round! Thee art Le Fay - or worse! And these art thy devilish pawns that thee has sent after this knight! At thee, demons!



Panel two: Medium shot of Argon, as HE draws his weapon as well - a double-edged AXE, which was still tied-up to his waist belt too. He lifts it angrily in the air, preparing to swing it at Oliver with lethal force - Sir Oliver is seen from the back in the panel's foreground...

1. ARGON: By Hela! You will pay for what you have just said! Argon the Brave may be many things - but he is not a demon! You will die for this...!



Panel three: Same exact shot, only Argon has stopped his motion and looks rather perplexed moreso than angry now... Oliver is clearly raising his sword, meanwhile, and about to stab "Argon" where it will incapacitate him immediately...

1. ARGON: What are these words that are coming out of my own mouth...?!? How... how am I able to converse in such a strange manner?!? How can I even understand it...? This is not my native tongue... not at all!

2. OLIVER: Thy attempts to further confound are in vain... demon!



Panel four: Close-up shot of Argon as Oliver's sword comes within a hair of his left eye - but it is stopped just short of its trajectory by another (though thinner) blade; the Musketeer's!

1. OLIVER: This one said AT THEE... --- ?!?



Panel five: Medium shot of the Musketeer staring down the Knight - their swords still crossing...

1. MUSKETEER: En garde, mon "ami"! If you want a fair duel, it is I who will engage ''thee''...!

2. OUTLANDER (off-panel): I see no fairness in a fight opposing one to two...



Panel six: Medium shot of The Outlander now - brandishing a scimitar no less and threatening the Musketeer with it... Xala's slender shadow is cast right at his side, partly over him...

1. OUTLANDER: ... truth be told though, I also see no reason for this to take place now. I suggest we all lower our weapons...

2. XALA (off-panel): Wise words, Outlander. I did not expect anything less from one who immersed himself in the great traditions of the Orient...

3. XALA (off-panel): May we calmly discuss this... I beg of you...? Let me tell you all how you came to be here... how you came to be... the way that you are now...


Copyright © 2001-2007 and beyond - Luciano A. Pimentel A.R.R.





And here is some scientific data that would be the basis of some rudimentary research   -at the very least- for this project...

And, in closing...

Luminous Aquatic Afterthought ~
if I cannot write for comic-books in one of the "Big Two" - maybe I can become the newest member of their elite group?
Anything And Everything's Possible
In The Four-Color Comic-Bookie Realms!
;)

time for another poem now

TO LIVE IS TO LEARN
To live long is to ceaselessly yearn
for the "good ole days" - the traditional ways
to hear again whatever folly grandma says
nothing as prodigiously abysmal as our own fern.
Once nostalgia sets in - it never sways
You will fondly remember, always.
Dreams will never die
Passions will always pry.
To live is to make mistakes
And to try and mend them if we do care
and if we still fail in our wake
we can hope someone will come who will dare
sons and daughters can pick up the mantle
we have but to pass them the torch
hopefully our work they will not dismantle
and of ours they do not just covet the Porsche!
To live is to die progressively
as we improve, paradoxically
To die... is to find serenity
to concatenate at last all of our complexity
in Heaven - before Our Maker
the Lord God Creator

Copyright ©2005 Luciano Pimentel A.R.R.

Not only was it time for another poem - but it was time for another bout with the blues, perhaps? Oh well... I guess I cannot enjoy levity one hundred percent of the time - I would have invented the word "dramedy" if it had not been dreamed up by some network executive somewhere already...! Although I enjoy my moments of whimsicality, there is no denying my moodiness, I suppose!
Carry on...

Não hà gente como agente...

Uma comédia portuguesa... com certeza! ;)
by Luciano A. Pimentel
Dona Aquatela era uma estrela do cinema português quando era jovem - agora, quer ser a Miss Marple do Portugal...! Fã incontestável de Luis de Camôes, Fernando Pessoa e José Saramago, ela nunca para de citar palavras e belas frases deles. Admiradora de Afonso de Albuquerque (quela chama Alfonso) e de Vasco Da Gama, ela nunca falha numa oportunidade de reclamar a gloria do passado Português quando a história està sendo falada! E ela ama de verdade o seu querido Luis Figo também. Jovem, ela parecia-se muito com uma outra actriz da sua época, a Britânica (e agora Dame) Diana Rigg... Dona Aquatela tem mais de que mágoa na sua alma de não ser uma "Dame" também... ou uma Baronesa... ou uma Condessa... ou outro titulo honorífico que ela acha -com razão- que merece; tal qual como a Diana Rigg! Dona Aquatela lamenta-se também sempre que, como a "malvada França" (que ela odeia) o seu querido país, a sua própria querida nação lusitana, Portugal, matou o seu reinado - e já não tem nem rei nem rainha! E é por isso mesmo que ela não pode ser nada tambem... É, de facto, ela mesmo que insista que lha chama de "Dona... Aquatela" se não toda a ferramenta que ela encontra ia lha chamar de "senhora"... Ou, pior ainda, de Excelentíssima Senhora...! Ela nunca vai poder suportar de ser chamada assim por gente baixa - e mais jovem de que ela, ainda por sima!
E, de facto, ela encontra muita ferramenta mesmo...
Ferramenta criminosa, também...

... Yes, I had to make use of my mother country's language now - although not born in Portugal, I act as if I was (aye; I love seafood!). The preceding synopsis would be equally good for a novel... a sitcom... even a movie! There is no medium that one such as "Dona Aquatela" does not fit in! Thus it should be "all of the above" - and more! Dona Aquatela: the educational CD-ROM! Dona Aquatela: the cartoon series! The sky is the limit, verily - a fact that applies to most (if not all - really!) of my concepts/projects/synopses... truly! Just try me ...! In lieu of Dona Aquatela herself - or her nemesis Zé DasFavas - I will tell you muito obrigado! E... mais uma vez... alembre-se do querido Babel Fish! ;)

E cà istà a musica por atraz de isto tudo: 

some evidence of my multilingualism...

Il y a quelques années de cela, j'ai eu un rêve...

Souvent, c'est un fait, mes rêves inspirent mes écrits...

Cette fois-là, je ne savais pas pour lequel de mes projets ce rêve-ci était le plus approprié... C'était un rêve plutôt... violent.

Et c'était un rêve d'époque aussi; alors, il me fût aisé de choisir d'utiliser la scène tout de suite, telle que rêvée, ici - mon seul vrai projet d'époque, à l'époque...! J'avais même osé espérer que mettre tout de suite, dès le réveil, le dit rêve sur papier, aurait pu me projeter sur une lancée et j'aurais "commis" ce livre en deux temps, trois mouvements. Tel ne fût pas le cas, hélas...
Et c'est ainsi que je me retrouve, vingt ans plus tard, non pas comme Dumas mais bel et bien... dans l'embarras! Que faire avec ce titre... ce projet inachevé... ce rêve non-assouvi (ça, je les collectionne ceux-là, vraiment...!)

Peut être vais-je le découvrir maintenant, en revisitant cette scène violente rêvée... que les fantômes impliqués de leur vivant m'ont montrée peut-être...?
Car, oui, je le crois - chaque personnage fictif fût un jour réel... il vécut ou il rêvât ces aventures soi-disant "inventées" de toutes pièces et ils viennent, le jour comme la nuit, les inspirer aux auteurs en manque d'inspiration ou de muses (elles sont si rares celles-là; si précieuses - si capricieuses aussi! Mais nous nous égarons maintenant...)

Ils font cela parce qu'ils veulent que leur histoire soit contée...

Nul hasard que les noms d'Athos, Porthos et Aramis soient véridiques - Alexandre Dumas ne fît que broder autour de ces noms une merveilleuse tapisserie. Ce n'est qu'un exemple parmi un milliard d'autres - le plus lamentable étant sans doute le tissu de mensonges brodé autour du nom de Vlad Tepes par l'ex-représentant d'artistes Bram Stoker; il était un vampire en quelque sorte et devait en faire un du premier nom qui l'inspira... Mais c'est une autre histoire pour un autre bouquin celle-là...

Je mets à profit ma formation d'historien de différentes manières maintenant - mais le Boulingueur était voué à devenir cette mise à profit de la façon la plus simplifiée possible; en me concentrant sur le territoire qui m'est, hélas, plus familier; la Nouvelle-France - et le climat éxécrable qui est venu avec! Voyons voir si je ne puis pondre ce bouquin finalement, maintenant, avec le recul des années... le cynisme accumulé... le ton sarcastique emmagasiné... la désinvolture illuminée...! Au pire aller, ce sera une histoire comme tant d'autres déjà parues... disons, comme Le Matou d'Yves Beauchemin...? Mais à une époque plus intéressante - et du bon côté de la nouvelle frontière - du quarante-neuvième parallèle, pour la majeure partie de l'action en tous cas! L'histoire d'un bourlingueur... d'une bourrache... de quelques belles connues ci et là... et de certains adversaires belliqueux aussi... oh, et d'une biquette également - j'allais l'oublier celle-là!

(Notez, en passant, qu'elle est tantôt brune, tantôt noire, tantôt autre chose - la satanée bourrache...! Je ne suis jamais satisfait à ce sujet-là... Des suggestions...? Je suis ouvert d'esprit, mais oui! Pourvu qu'elles soient... colorées!)

Those among you who haven't a clue - to whom French or even the "Frenglish" spoken in Québec, Canada is anathema and so this here is, ultimately, all Greek to you - well, I sincerely hope Babel Fish can help you! For the rest of you - à bon entendeur, salut! Gallimard, J'ai Lu, Flammarion et autres maisons d'édition; demandez-en moi donc plus - tant de détails que d'explications... Je me ferais une joie de vous en donner plus! Tout ça - et aussi des échantillons! Le Bourlingueur(...) et un certain Faiseur de Miracles sont mes deux projets dans la langue de Molière qui me tiennent encore à coeur de compléter et/ou parfaire...

And now, ladies and gentlemen, an excerpt...

... of a short story meant to be an integral part of a collection of short stories detailing the many flaws of humankind in modern society - one at a time...


MISTRESS OF SUBTERFUGE (SHORT STORY) - AN EXCERPT

It was still early in the afternoon when I decided that I was going to have some fun on that saturday night. I was going to barge my way into some party and drink the night away - free of charge. It was not going to cost me a dime, otherwise it would be no fun. I had nothing to lose and all to gain here, really... So I got up, put some lipstick on, dressed up minimally and out I went.

After a few short hours I spotted the place for me to drown my sorrows - this little suburban couple with their little suburban friends coming over... Perfect, gullible prey. The little wifey had left a note on the front door for the, presumably, numerous guests. It read ''come in - it's unlocked- we're in the backyard - Natalie''. How naive, Natalie. In this day and age, no matter how safe and quiet your neighborhood seems like, you don't leave your door unlocked like that, with such a colourful, eye-catching note to boot, tipping off any predator off the streets! I knew this yuppie couple was only renting the oversized place there; multiple bedrooms, front and back yards, all the commodities nearby... They were so well-set, they had to be paying a bundle each month for this place. One look and I wanted a tour inside. So I went in. I'd figure out a reason to be there on the spot, I was sure of it... It always thrills me to challenge myself like that - I am at my best when I'm spontaneous.

-''Hello? Anybody home?'' I said sarcastically, as I went in. I half-expected someone to emerge from the living room saying ''hey - who are you? You're not one of the guests!'' But nothing of the sort happened. I walked through the long hallway, past many rooms, until I reached the kitchen which gave access to the backyard. They were all there; the chubby inane hubby, the chubbier Moroccan best friend, his wide-eyed wife and newborn baby - mercifully not as pale as mom nor as dark as dad - the perfect mid-term compromise, thus! As "perfect" as it could get, that is... And there was, finally, the one who had left the note - naive Natalie, in the flesh! I just knew that I could fool her with anything I'd say. She was somewhat latino-looking without being it. Found out in no time at all that she had a set of grandparents who'd originated from Italy, Portugal or some place like it! As if I cared! She told me her life in no time too, flat out - and I could have yawned through the entire thing - but I didn't. Hadn't had dinner yet... or a case of beer! So I simply had to stick with it a while longer at least; it was a very small price to pay for free dinner and free booze... and maybe more! The inane hubby was the one, though, to stand up inquisitively and, on one hand, ask the pertinent questions and yet, on the other hand, give me all I needed to answer them... What an idiot!

-''You're a friend of...?'' he asked with a goofy, trusting smile...

-''Uh - my folks were friends with the owner of this place. I called him uncle Jose all the time...!'' I said, more to make conversation than anything else... But the simpleton bit at the bait - what's more he picked up the ball and ran with it!

-''Oh, so you're, like - his niece?!? Natalie - this is Mr. Merenguez's niece!'' he shouted to his wife inanely, before turning his attention back to me - all of it too... ''That is your name too, isn't it... Merenguez?'' now he asked - after telling out loud the name I knew not mere seconds prior to that! He was making my deception that much easier - and he hadn't a clue he was being so careless! What was I to answer to such an innocent, neophytical, profoundly careless as witless question, other than...

-''Yes - that is my name! Melody... Merenguez! Nice to meet you...?'' I tried to say without bursting into laughter, extending my hand to shake his - sweaty and chubby, just like I hated them.

-''Francis! Natalie and I just moved in here two years ago - your uncle is such a nice landlord... And we are having a sort-of party tonight celebrating the arrival of two babies - ours and the couple right there, good friends of ours... go and meet them!'' he said like a total idiot, repeating some learnt by heart speech. This was going to be, perhaps, a tad too easy, I thought to myself, forcibly smiling all the while through...


With this short story, I am inching closer, I do believe, to the sarcastic tone that made my ancient Greek scribe (though he wasn't of the "imported Greek populace" of Samosata) namesake of mine quite famous... Lucian employed it to mock the Olympian gods that were popular in his day - I mock evil people, most of whom are popular today; it all boils down to the same thing, don't you think?
His Dialogues and mine are quite similar and essentially the same - that is for sure! And both of us were strangers in our own land...
But all of that is for another blog...

assorted whimsical sayings... and deeper ones too

''Always hope for the best but expect the worst; that way, you are fully prepared for every eventuality!''

 ~~ Luciano Pimentel

Do the best you can - and may the best win. It all cancels each other out and you are left satisfied that you did what you could!

Don't bother merely meeting a deadline - beat the tar out of it!

Forgive - but never forget! You don't want to set yourself up for another one, now do you?

Life is a four-letter word - and so is Pain.

Bliss is around every corner - one has but to dare look for it and not turn away when it comes in a totally unexpected package...

Embrace every event in your life -good or bad- with that same youthful optimism you displayed when you were a child; you instinctively knew back then that it was a mere interlude, and that, sooner than later, the good fun times would be rolling again...

Don't think of what could have been - reflect with that warm fuzzy feeling on what was.

Stop yourself to think about those that are in worse shape than you are when you feel overwhelmed with anger and frustration.

Some good deeds are not as pleasant to do as others are - do them anyway...

Nobody notices you - until you light up their day with a friendly smile.

Everyone wants unconditional acceptance - then why do so few of us give it, even to those we know...?

Do the best you can - and may the best win. It all cancels each other out and you are left satisfied that you did what you could!

Ever noticed how happy and fulfilled one feels after a hug? Then pass it on - hug people!

Look at the birds and the squirrels - they have not much yet they sing and they jump around merrily. Feel free to emulate them.

Thank the heavens above for each new day you are given - and make some noise to celebrate it!

Make sure each day to set aside two seconds during which you will think of nothing else but being happy.
Yes - you may extend it to ten seconds... twenty... thirty seconds... two minutes... but no more! There's work to do to get there...!

Don't dwell too much on what you did wrong - flaunt what you did right!

If all else fails, get yourself some good eagle-eyed legal representation - they'll spot your good qualities for you - for a fee!

Write down the details of your dreams; one never knows, maybe the winning numbers are in there somewhere...

Jot down any good idea you ever have on the spot, for you risk only two things in doing so - the idea will stink upon reading it or it will be a great idea for anybody anywhere... but you. Recycle it then. Pass it on. Whatever you do - don't forget it!

Nothing is ever as bad as you think it is - you are only prone to overdramatize things after too many episodes of CSI in your system.

Exaggeration is the true sincerest form of flattery -not imitation- for two reasons; it is more creative and much more flattering!

The thing about prayer is not being heard...
It is that, eventually, you will get a response
when you least expect it too!

None may choose your path in life.
None but the Council of Two that you form with your Creator, who made you with your strengths and weaknesses, showing you early on what that path might be; leaving you to decide and officialize the whole process of your own free will.

Life is too short to remain angry... or bitter... or vindictive... or resentful... or hurt.

When nothing is going right... write about nothing. It's therapeutic... cathartic... and costs you less than throwing a tantrum!

~~~ L.P.
A.R.R.

Although I sincerely believe each and every statement I made here is true - still and always - I must say that, in hindsight, that last one about writing "costing you less than throwing a tantrum" can apply only most of the time but not all of the time. It very nearly came back to bite me in the rear end as some of my writings were not so-well received...! Every other writer knows it well: libel claims can be made at the drop of a hat. Although I am proud to say that all I ever stated, in writ or out loud, has been the truth and nothing but the truth - those who hear it or read it may feel differently about it, sometimes.
My conscience is clear, though!