Note: This was supposed to be a pantoum*. It's close to what it should be but I think the beginning and ending might not be strictly adherent to the style.
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantoum
It's that time of year again,
So let me take you to the harvest festival.
The weather is so right,
I can't help seeing you balled up so tight.
Take me to the harvest festival?
In the cold of this weather,
I can't help being balled up so tight.
What do you want to do tonight?
In the cold of this weather,
Ain't nothin' better than bein' together.
What do I want to do tonight?
Anything that feels all right.
Ain't nothin' better than bein' together,
I can't disagree with that.
Anything that feels all right,
It feels better when warm.
I can disagree with that.
Even if it is cold outside,
And it feels better when warm,
We're plenty warm enough together.
Even if it is cold outside,
And even if our heat keeps us goin’,
And we're plenty warm enough together,
What makes you think I want to go with you?
And if our heat keeps us goin,
Then it's that time of year again.
What makes me think you want to go with me?
The weather that is so right.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Typical Morning
Original Form: Typical Morning
I wake up and find my cup.
It's not too hard to find, just hard to get at from amidst all the crap since it is seated in the far corner of the ledge before the window.
I think to go over to my draws to get the bottle of Jack Daniels from amidst the sheets where it is buried, debating whether or not to have the last of the Single Barrel and get that extra 7% or just go with the old No. 7, but I just look down for a moment to see that I, quite wisely, left the old No. 7 by the side of the bed, all one and three quarter liters of its sweet taste. I let it pour for a third of the glass, a glass that must be no more than two or so cups, and then go and get my Nalgene of iced tea to carry another third of the way. The cinnamon I find in the very front of the ledge, right behind my pillow and drop in a new stick.
I trudge downstairs, eyes refusing to stay fully open, and find the ice tray filling the cup nigh to the brim with ice- it must crash upon the rocks to get a rockin'.
Lastly, I find the vanilla extract. I hold it for but a moment above the glass, desiring but a bit, but somehow it always seems to slosh more than I would have designed but it always tastes good, so why argue? Maybe its just the amount I want and I don't know it? I'd probably get too much if I went for it myself.
I come back up and, now then, I must find something to play. Jazz, gotta be jazz and gotta be good and gotta be good and loud. Besides, it ain't like its quite time or some bullshit like that anyway.
Gotta be Bob James. Probably from "All Around the Town." Ah, I know, "We Are All Alone." It doesn't sound like people make Jazz out to be, it’s funky and crazy but it is kinda Fusion anyway so I'll give them that.
But, boy, it’s poppin' and it’s crazy.
It’s crazy. Why the fuck is it six fifteen on a saturday evening and I have only been awake for fifteen minutes?
I wake up and find my cup.
It's not too hard to find, just hard to get at from amidst all the crap since it is seated in the far corner of the ledge before the window.
I think to go over to my draws to get the bottle of Jack Daniels from amidst the sheets where it is buried, debating whether or not to have the last of the Single Barrel and get that extra 7% or just go with the old No. 7, but I just look down for a moment to see that I, quite wisely, left the old No. 7 by the side of the bed, all one and three quarter liters of its sweet taste. I let it pour for a third of the glass, a glass that must be no more than two or so cups, and then go and get my Nalgene of iced tea to carry another third of the way. The cinnamon I find in the very front of the ledge, right behind my pillow and drop in a new stick.
I trudge downstairs, eyes refusing to stay fully open, and find the ice tray filling the cup nigh to the brim with ice- it must crash upon the rocks to get a rockin'.
Lastly, I find the vanilla extract. I hold it for but a moment above the glass, desiring but a bit, but somehow it always seems to slosh more than I would have designed but it always tastes good, so why argue? Maybe its just the amount I want and I don't know it? I'd probably get too much if I went for it myself.
I come back up and, now then, I must find something to play. Jazz, gotta be jazz and gotta be good and gotta be good and loud. Besides, it ain't like its quite time or some bullshit like that anyway.
Gotta be Bob James. Probably from "All Around the Town." Ah, I know, "We Are All Alone." It doesn't sound like people make Jazz out to be, it’s funky and crazy but it is kinda Fusion anyway so I'll give them that.
But, boy, it’s poppin' and it’s crazy.
It’s crazy. Why the fuck is it six fifteen on a saturday evening and I have only been awake for fifteen minutes?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Four Men Walk Into A Bar
Four men walk into a bar
And the first orders a snifter of scotch,
In honor of his mother's father,
And the second orders a snifter of vodka,
In honor of his mother's mother,
And the third orders another snifter of vodka,
In honor of his father's mother,
And the fourth orders the last snifter of vodka,
In honor of his father's father.
They empty out together,
Remarking about how the night is cold as their old man
And just wish they could know the warmth of the old home
When everything was so much simpler than it is now.
They walk home in an aimless way,
And when they arrive at the end of the night,
To splash a bit of cool, cool water on their face,
I look in the mirror and realize I am whole again.
And the first orders a snifter of scotch,
In honor of his mother's father,
And the second orders a snifter of vodka,
In honor of his mother's mother,
And the third orders another snifter of vodka,
In honor of his father's mother,
And the fourth orders the last snifter of vodka,
In honor of his father's father.
They empty out together,
Remarking about how the night is cold as their old man
And just wish they could know the warmth of the old home
When everything was so much simpler than it is now.
They walk home in an aimless way,
And when they arrive at the end of the night,
To splash a bit of cool, cool water on their face,
I look in the mirror and realize I am whole again.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
"As We Look Through History", Certainly...
The only thing that is certain is that no one should ever say "as we look through history" because that is about as bad as it comes for a weasel word.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
We Shall Overcome-The Injustive of... Food Prices
Now, in all honesty, the student government here at Bard is hard at work at making things better, but it is still quite funny to utilize "We Shall Overcome" in the context of this pursuit of fair prices.
The following was adopted by the Student Forum on Wednesday, the 8th of October.
*Food* *Policy*
1. The costs previously covered by the supplementary fee on the meal
plan shall be redistributed into the tuition. Other expenditures, if
deemed prudent and necessary, shall be made public and proposed to the
Student Association of Bard College to be voted upon at a Student Forum.
2. There shall be meal plan options given to students who may choose
to reduce their meals per week to a proportionate amount of Bard
Bucks, or reduce the total cost of the plan.
3. Bard shall work with area restaurants and stores to institute
Student ID scanners so that Students may expend Bard Bucks at
alternative businesses. This will increase competition among local
businesses for Student patronage and provide a boon to the local
economy. The cost may be covered by an acceptable proportionate
supplementary fee on the price of meal plans.
4. Down the Road shall not charge students for items and add-ons they
don't want. It is the position of the Student Association to have DTR
offer basic items and allow students to add toppings and add-ons at
additional cost. DTR shall maintain prices in competition with local
restaurants and other colleges.
5. Manor Cafe shall return to the Meal Exchange system used prior to
this year. All items available shall be categorized under the ABC
meal exchange system previously employed by Chartwells.
6. The Green Onion shall price items closer to the prices available at
local grocery stores.
The following was adopted by the Student Forum on Wednesday, the 8th of October.
*Food* *Policy*
1. The costs previously covered by the supplementary fee on the meal
plan shall be redistributed into the tuition. Other expenditures, if
deemed prudent and necessary, shall be made public and proposed to the
Student Association of Bard College to be voted upon at a Student Forum.
2. There shall be meal plan options given to students who may choose
to reduce their meals per week to a proportionate amount of Bard
Bucks, or reduce the total cost of the plan.
3. Bard shall work with area restaurants and stores to institute
Student ID scanners so that Students may expend Bard Bucks at
alternative businesses. This will increase competition among local
businesses for Student patronage and provide a boon to the local
economy. The cost may be covered by an acceptable proportionate
supplementary fee on the price of meal plans.
4. Down the Road shall not charge students for items and add-ons they
don't want. It is the position of the Student Association to have DTR
offer basic items and allow students to add toppings and add-ons at
additional cost. DTR shall maintain prices in competition with local
restaurants and other colleges.
5. Manor Cafe shall return to the Meal Exchange system used prior to
this year. All items available shall be categorized under the ABC
meal exchange system previously employed by Chartwells.
6. The Green Onion shall price items closer to the prices available at
local grocery stores.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Marvels Making Measured Motions
“Officer Pippin, reportin’ for duty,” said Jeffrey Pippin as he stepped out from the bathroom, the door swinging quite vigorously behind him. Garbed in the standard black fabric and black leather duster that a detective of his caliber was issued, he hardly stood out from the darkness of the barely lit bar if only for the fact that he neglected to wear his gloves and that some of his face was visible from beyond the messy lengths of hair that he had let out. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought by the size of the crowd that he walked into the bar during closing time, but it surely wasn’t- he hadn’t been there that long.
His partner, Walker Bremmen, was chatting up some pretty young thing that never would have given him the time of day prior- though there was something about her that looked familiar to Jeffrey. Now, however, they were top ranked detectives making big bucks and clearly Walker didn’t have the time of day to give to anybody’s jokes. This struck Jeff as odd since Walker was about as funny as he was, which is to say a great deal as long as you see life as one dead end job to another and you can, for a few moments, jump out of your skin and laugh at the scars.
They came to this bar a lot- not usually to pick up chicks, sometimes it was explicitly to drink, but most of the time because it was one of the few dark places in the world anymore. Things change for the brighter over time, not necessarily better, but brighter. Jeff didn’t like most changes. He liked that things had a natural order that he must be a part of because he couldn’t see it and if he didn’t see it then it was probably good.
All he ever saw were bad things. Mutilated raped bodies, bruised and battered women, little children so disturbed by years of abuse amongst all of their short, short years that they had become nigh feral or… worse. Things just keep getting worse for all the good that seems to be spreading around the worlds.
Right now, though, Jeff needed to be spreading the love because he sure as hell was not feeling it from Walker. Carefully, containing his presence from his target, and making sure that she didn’t notice him either, he made his way to the bar. Just as he we was about to sit at the bar, he wrapped his arms over Walker’s chest, kissed him on the cheek and exclaimed rather loudly, “Oh sweety, did you missssss me!”
Walker spun around, pinched him in the neck and cried, “Damn it, Jeff, you know how much I hate it when you make those faggotry jokes around me and especially when I am the butt of the argument.”
The young lady covered her mouth and seemed to say “Oh, my” but it wasn’t noticeable over Jeff gleefully stating, “I think that was some poor word choice there, buddy.” This statement promptly resulted in Jeff’s ear being pinched and, thus, bringing him to one of his weakest states, since one of his pressure points activated. His lips nearly kissed the floor.
“Apologize; apologize; apologize, damn it! Can’t you see that we’re in the presence of a lady,” Walker’s open palm thrusting in the neighbor woman’s direction, nearly slapping her upside the head.
It was just then, with Jeff’s head twisted down to the floor that he began to recognize just whom his partner had been chatting up. With his head so low, and his gaze brought towards her direction, he couldn’t help but look up her skirt, which is all she had on below. It wasn’t a tight skirt and, since there were no grates venting off vast amounts of steam, she had little fear of people noticing anything left open to the wind. But, Jeff found something odd about the cooch, hich was revealed from spread legs, suddenly in his view. It didn’t look quite right… not quite the exquisite peach that a finely made up woman, as she seemed to be, should have.
What really had him reeling was a pair of tattoos, one on each of her haunches. One tattoo was of a golden rooster with a flaming set of spiked hair and the other tattoo was of a train powered by cans of Canned Heat. He didn’t recognize what all this meant at first until he thought back to an old case, a very old case.
It was one of his first cases; he had to track down a rapist and the only clue was that he had neon tattoos on his thighs. Jeff had heard too many women describe the tattoos in such lurid detail for him to handle. But, despite all the testimony, they couldn’t find a single tattoo parlor that could detail anyone who had received that tattoo, especially since the Armen-Kaden law mandated tightened safety restrictions and made it necessary to record each tattoo made.
One day, when he was at a wonderfully extravagant water park, with all the latest accoutrements that science could offer, he was changing into a pair of swimming trunks when he noticed the brilliantly colored tattoos that the victims had mentioned so often: one tattoo was of a golden rooster with a flaming set of spiked hair and the other tattoo was of a train powered by cans of Canned Heat. The job looked like it had been done at home: well, but self administered.
This woman sitting in front of him was really one of his first perps and one of his first promotions. The guy had a brilliant lawyer since he came from big money, so he got off with a three year sentence in a plush penitentiary after a guilty plea. But, how could Jeff tell his partner that the woman that he was so betrothed to was really a he? Not just a he, but a former rapist? Well, maybe it couldn’t have children, but for all Walker would know, it would be one of the best women he would ever lay. Jeff decided it better to not tell him. He figured that’s what he would want to be done for him. And it was definitely only going to be doing Walker once.
Tired of the strain placed on his back, Jeff apologized and returned to his seat, meeting the eyes of it and, in that moment, it realized his knowledge and looked quite guilty.
All that was a moment in passing, and passing time became the new raison d’être for Jeff. Sitting at the bar, his empty shot glass looked lonely and bored just lying on the hardwood table without any company. Gently, he raised his finger in the air and concentrated on the little bit of glass and waved his finger back and forth. And with each motion in one direction so did the shot glass move ever so delicately in the direction of the finger as it ever so precisely follow the pendulum-like motions of his index.
Jeff could barely hear the stirring of those behind him as the seemingly unreal behavior attracted the attention of the other patrons- it was far more important that he focus. Walker, however, was quite aware of the disturbance that was being made and so he flicked Jeff’s ear and said with great force, though obviously trying not yell, “Quit that shit.”
He quit alright; he quit his focus, that is, and the absence of his attention resulted in him flicking the shot glass clean from the bar and into the ceiling shattering it into a billion tiny pieces that were now lodged in the ceiling.
The bartender, who gave his name as only Arnold whenever Jeff asked, simply walked over to Jeff and said, “Badge.” He knew well enough at this point that if a detective in black breaks something or commits some other form of damage that he should just get their badge number since all the people in that force were given extensive insurance packages for the things that they would wind up doing in the course of service.
Jeff went to take out his badge and, when he did, he noticed that it was flashing. Something was going down at HQ and they needed them back pronto. If it was something minor then they would have called on the communicator, but it was only for the really fun problems that they contacted them thusly. Walker hastily took out his badge and tossed it to the bartender saying, “I’ll be back for it!”, as he ran out the door.
Jeff snapped out of the daze that the flashing light had set him into and ran after Walker. The door slammed on his face and, remembering what he saw two days prior at a fair just the other day, he decided to try walking through the door. With but a moment of focus, he was able to pass cleanly through the door but, in the course of the action, he felt as if he got a cleansing via a tremendous stream of wood pulp administered rectally. Though, the thought of how the door felt did cross his mind, did it feel as if it had been invaded by a person?
“Get over here!” Walker yelled as he held the teleporter open for them, the booth looking reminiscent of the phone booths of yore. Jeff broke back into his run but all the while, he was still amazed at the soaring heights and brilliant lights of the buildings around him and the multitudes of flying cars that swarmed. It was wondrously strange even more so that all of this was stored within the metal confines of New New Jersey, floating around Pluto in geosynchronous orbit. Jeff hopped in the cramped booth and placed his badge on to a touch screen panel. A moment later, they were standing in New Newark’s Mechanized Defense Force garage, the first and last defense against serious threats to the structural integrity of the colony.
“Captain Pippin, Captain Bremmen; you’re vessel,” said General Peter Gald, their boss. He was noticeably tall and stout and in another time he would likely have been a blacksmith, or, perhaps, a chieftain. Even thought they were police officers and keepers of law, in the wild frontier of space, Pete acted more like a boss since the NNMDF was often contracted by “merchants” to defend them from “pirates.” Who was who often changed, but the checks came through and they didn’t ask questions. Besides, there wasn’t much proof on either side for all the chaos that was going on.
The ship, however, was starkly unusual. It was blacker than space itself and had a large curved body with four “fins” sticking out from its fore and back on its left and right. It had a short “head” that stuck forward and a similar shape of metal at the back for a “tail”. It was similar in form to a plesiosaur but without the long neck and a far shorter tail. It was about the size of the average mid-class fighter vessel from the military and it was probably similarly sized to what was, a few centuries ago, called a jumbo jet.
What was most remarkable about the craft was that it had no actual opening inwards. To enter the vehicle one merely had to place their hand upon the head of the vehicle and they would be teleported into the vehicle. However, with each passing in and out, it seemed as though a presence peaked into one’s mind.
Walker’s mind, however, is always focused on the mission, so, with impatience in his voice, he stated, “What’s the beat, boss?”
“We’ve detected something heading in mightt fast amongst the rocks and only your ship is available with the kind of armor and arms needed to take on something like what is headed our way. You’ve got the shields and you’ve got the lasers, but most of all, you have the time. Let’s just hope it’s a comet or something and I’ll see you kids soon.” He retrieved a small glass marble from his pocket, a data orb containing the coordinates for the location of the intruding force.
With great haste, they made their way to the ship, slapped their hands to the head, and jumped. Once inside, they made their way to a pair of seats in the front of the craft. The cockpit was vaguely oval, though its curves were angular and not smooth in the slightest. Its walls were covered with many blinking screens and varying interfaces set into their black metal panels while there was an odd leather patch in the region opposite the two seats. Set into the leather was a strange compass that glowed green. With but a touch, it was supposed to take one to the engine room and workshop of the craft. Whether or not this was true had never been tested by the two.
Once seated, Jeff’s fingers ran across the controls and they were off.
The gate was barely open enough for the ship to get out with the ship flown on its side but the correction was made and they slipped out- best not to leave too much time for something to slip in while jetting out. Walker had the weapon’s and shield’s controls at his command and Jeff just had to guide it to where they had to go. It was quite a task and so they were silent, save for in the many screaming thoughts in their minds as they made the ship run.
However, it seemed that what they were after was coming towards them and not the other way around. They had been flying for just ten minutes when something came up on the HUD moving at speeds that most fighters and some close-to-light cruisers could only dream of.
Jeff felt the strangest feeling settle over him whilst Jeff was calculating the appropriate boson shield levels and arming the various torpedoes and lasers. With the object close enough that they could make out its vague shape as some kind of arrow or projectile- though the shaft seemed too short, the standard shoot-first-ask-questions-later procedure kicked in. But this feeling, this feeling… was wholly unlike anything that Jeff had ever known.
His entire mind was consumed with fear; the kind of fear that one gets when one is a child and swept up into a mess that was not of one’s making. The only other time he felt this was back when he was really walking the beat on the mean streets and saw the eyes of children swept up by the darkness of life. There was someone worth saving out there. He had to act.
“Stop the weapons preps, and prepare the vector trap. We have to catch ‘er before we do something that we might regret!”
“What the fuck are you talking about!? I can’t just stop it now and switch over! Besides, that is a rocket and that is what we’ll write in the report! ” Walker’s fingers hit harder, not just because he was mad but because the ship was giving him an increasing number of errors with each new command he gave it. So many error messages that they filling up the screen.
For a moment, he could swear that one of the errors said, “I gave you a chance” and “It was real.” Those were the thoughts of mad men. Computers don’t say things like that.
The target came into view
Jeffrey decided to take real action and halted the ship and began to move it in reverse.
“What are you doing the ship isn’t just going to-” And just then the ship totally stopped. Perhaps not totally, there were still atmospheric controls inside insuring that they were alive, but all the lights had shut off and they were left to sit in the pitch black. It then lurched about as if parts of it were being torn apart- or, maybe, growing? The sounds of scraping metal screamed.
When the lights came back on, the walls of the cockpit had been replaced with the leathery material. The flesh contained a vast network of glowing green veins that were alit with a great fury and there was only one metal panel left which said, “Constraint release.” The panel flashed this over and over in a scarlet red that beckoned for one to place one’s hand in a recessed hole that was made for a human palm. Deep groves were cut into the hand hold displaying more red lights pulsing in rhythm with the sign.
Walker was a man of action. He fucking walked the walk and there was nothing some motherfucker could talk on his choices. He rose out of his chair and moved to the panel, but Jeff grabbed his hand and said, “What are you doing?”
“What seems to be the right thing at the moment.”
Jeff was stunned in his seat at it all and all he could do was sit, paralyzed and watch his friend make his way to the altar. Walker placed his hand inside and a bright red light shown through all his veins and the light poured out of his eyes as he turned towards Jeff, his mouth gaping wide would from his failed attempt at screaming to mark his pain.
The lights went out again, but the light in his eyes stayed just long enough for Jeff to realize that his body was being torn through the panel which was maybe two feet square. Again, the sounds of scraping metal, but, as the scraping moved from the back to the fore of the ship, it ended from the region it was in after a few moments. Jeff titled the seat and twisted his head as he followed the sound from the back to the ceiling and then to the front again. Once his eyes had situated back to the pitch black front, the lights came back on.
Standing quizzically in front of him was the “object.” It was no arrow or projectile, but rather, it was some kind of human thing. It had the general figure of a lovely lady but it was enveloped in scaly white armor that sat above a layer of writhing, organic cables that glinted as if they were made of platinum. Its head had blue glass eyes that starkly contrasted the ruby metal balls that were found where her joints should be, as well as the orb that was on her forehead and the softball sized orb on her sternum. An ivory scythe swept back from above her forehead-orb and, instead of a mouth, there were two protrusions that extended and recoiled under a regular rhythm that must have been her breath.
She cocked her head left and right in the very same manner that Jeff performed. It was ridiculous that it just happened to follow the same motions as him. Thus, he decided to immediately stop and straighten his back… and so did she.
Suddenly, without any action on Jeff’s part, the cockpit lurched toward her, above her and then slammed down onto her. When it settled, he could swear that he heard something shut. In the middle of the room, light began to pour down from the cockpit as the woman materialized, the armor floating off and dematerializing along with many of the cables save for a few that were returning seemingly to her back. She floated naked and weightless in the light, her eyes closed and her breath ever so slight and chest barely heaving.
The light vanished and she fell a few inches until another light shown a second later from the floor and molecules of seemingly intangible white nothings came together to clothe her in a white dress. This new light slowly dissipated and she delicately settled on the floor.
However, her body was not totally awake and when her erect body came to the floor, her knees immediately buckled and she fell on her ass. The pain threw her eyes open and she began to scream and holler bloody murder.
Jeff knelt towards her and tried to calm her down one might do for scared a child but she was acting nigh feral- or was it barbaric. He just needed to know her name and maybe they could try and figure what was going on.
‘Kei!’
But all Jeff seemed to get from her were screams. With the same care that was required of his old job from a world that now seemed quite alien, he quizzed, “What’s your name?”
But she continued to only scream.
‘Kei! That’s my name!’
He could swear he heard something but it must not have been there. He thought it was all in his head but… maybe…
‘It is in your head!’
“Huh?” he said. Her screaming began to settle and she merely hyperventilated in his presence. He felt something tingling in his head and now saw that it was no trick of a shocked mind. This person that came from… wherever might not be able to speak with words but could speak through her mind. ‘So you’re a psychic?’
‘I guess if that is what you call it, then I’m a psychic.’
‘Well, if you don’t mind my asking…’ Jeff stroked his chin to find the right words worried all the while that she may be probing his mind for what he was thinking. It didn’t matter, things were strange enough as it was. ‘Excuse me, but what exactly are you?’
‘I am like you… or was. I was with… my lover. We went to make love when that thing latched onto mind. I think I might killed him. I think I might have destroyed my home…
There were two minds in that thing. One was dormant and possessed of the colors that I wore before you. The other was dark and evil. It controlled me, but I was able to speak the sleeping one and break free.
The dark one is coming after me. It reported to its masters of where I am and I think more may be coming. But I heard this vessel and came to it.’
Jeff’s communicator started buzzing which gave Kei an awful fright but he moved his left hand up and progressively further down- a universal gesture for calm down it would seem since she responded to it- and she stopped her hysteria as he placed the little black device in his ear.
“Boss… eh…. Uh. What is it?”
“What is it? I guess you guys got the first one but you don’t see the other thing coming!”
Scratching his head and looking down, he tried his very damnedest to sound confident when he uttered, “I’m on it.”
“You better be. And where’s Wa-” He crushed the communicator in his hand and let the shards fall to the ground.
Rising to his feat, he saw, from the HUD, a great and miserable terror: a plutoid sized giant metallic eyeball … monstrosity that was headed for them as it fired off salvos of black plasma from a vicious horde of tentacles extending from its back.
His partner, Walker Bremmen, was chatting up some pretty young thing that never would have given him the time of day prior- though there was something about her that looked familiar to Jeffrey. Now, however, they were top ranked detectives making big bucks and clearly Walker didn’t have the time of day to give to anybody’s jokes. This struck Jeff as odd since Walker was about as funny as he was, which is to say a great deal as long as you see life as one dead end job to another and you can, for a few moments, jump out of your skin and laugh at the scars.
They came to this bar a lot- not usually to pick up chicks, sometimes it was explicitly to drink, but most of the time because it was one of the few dark places in the world anymore. Things change for the brighter over time, not necessarily better, but brighter. Jeff didn’t like most changes. He liked that things had a natural order that he must be a part of because he couldn’t see it and if he didn’t see it then it was probably good.
All he ever saw were bad things. Mutilated raped bodies, bruised and battered women, little children so disturbed by years of abuse amongst all of their short, short years that they had become nigh feral or… worse. Things just keep getting worse for all the good that seems to be spreading around the worlds.
Right now, though, Jeff needed to be spreading the love because he sure as hell was not feeling it from Walker. Carefully, containing his presence from his target, and making sure that she didn’t notice him either, he made his way to the bar. Just as he we was about to sit at the bar, he wrapped his arms over Walker’s chest, kissed him on the cheek and exclaimed rather loudly, “Oh sweety, did you missssss me!”
Walker spun around, pinched him in the neck and cried, “Damn it, Jeff, you know how much I hate it when you make those faggotry jokes around me and especially when I am the butt of the argument.”
The young lady covered her mouth and seemed to say “Oh, my” but it wasn’t noticeable over Jeff gleefully stating, “I think that was some poor word choice there, buddy.” This statement promptly resulted in Jeff’s ear being pinched and, thus, bringing him to one of his weakest states, since one of his pressure points activated. His lips nearly kissed the floor.
“Apologize; apologize; apologize, damn it! Can’t you see that we’re in the presence of a lady,” Walker’s open palm thrusting in the neighbor woman’s direction, nearly slapping her upside the head.
It was just then, with Jeff’s head twisted down to the floor that he began to recognize just whom his partner had been chatting up. With his head so low, and his gaze brought towards her direction, he couldn’t help but look up her skirt, which is all she had on below. It wasn’t a tight skirt and, since there were no grates venting off vast amounts of steam, she had little fear of people noticing anything left open to the wind. But, Jeff found something odd about the cooch, hich was revealed from spread legs, suddenly in his view. It didn’t look quite right… not quite the exquisite peach that a finely made up woman, as she seemed to be, should have.
What really had him reeling was a pair of tattoos, one on each of her haunches. One tattoo was of a golden rooster with a flaming set of spiked hair and the other tattoo was of a train powered by cans of Canned Heat. He didn’t recognize what all this meant at first until he thought back to an old case, a very old case.
It was one of his first cases; he had to track down a rapist and the only clue was that he had neon tattoos on his thighs. Jeff had heard too many women describe the tattoos in such lurid detail for him to handle. But, despite all the testimony, they couldn’t find a single tattoo parlor that could detail anyone who had received that tattoo, especially since the Armen-Kaden law mandated tightened safety restrictions and made it necessary to record each tattoo made.
One day, when he was at a wonderfully extravagant water park, with all the latest accoutrements that science could offer, he was changing into a pair of swimming trunks when he noticed the brilliantly colored tattoos that the victims had mentioned so often: one tattoo was of a golden rooster with a flaming set of spiked hair and the other tattoo was of a train powered by cans of Canned Heat. The job looked like it had been done at home: well, but self administered.
This woman sitting in front of him was really one of his first perps and one of his first promotions. The guy had a brilliant lawyer since he came from big money, so he got off with a three year sentence in a plush penitentiary after a guilty plea. But, how could Jeff tell his partner that the woman that he was so betrothed to was really a he? Not just a he, but a former rapist? Well, maybe it couldn’t have children, but for all Walker would know, it would be one of the best women he would ever lay. Jeff decided it better to not tell him. He figured that’s what he would want to be done for him. And it was definitely only going to be doing Walker once.
Tired of the strain placed on his back, Jeff apologized and returned to his seat, meeting the eyes of it and, in that moment, it realized his knowledge and looked quite guilty.
All that was a moment in passing, and passing time became the new raison d’être for Jeff. Sitting at the bar, his empty shot glass looked lonely and bored just lying on the hardwood table without any company. Gently, he raised his finger in the air and concentrated on the little bit of glass and waved his finger back and forth. And with each motion in one direction so did the shot glass move ever so delicately in the direction of the finger as it ever so precisely follow the pendulum-like motions of his index.
Jeff could barely hear the stirring of those behind him as the seemingly unreal behavior attracted the attention of the other patrons- it was far more important that he focus. Walker, however, was quite aware of the disturbance that was being made and so he flicked Jeff’s ear and said with great force, though obviously trying not yell, “Quit that shit.”
He quit alright; he quit his focus, that is, and the absence of his attention resulted in him flicking the shot glass clean from the bar and into the ceiling shattering it into a billion tiny pieces that were now lodged in the ceiling.
The bartender, who gave his name as only Arnold whenever Jeff asked, simply walked over to Jeff and said, “Badge.” He knew well enough at this point that if a detective in black breaks something or commits some other form of damage that he should just get their badge number since all the people in that force were given extensive insurance packages for the things that they would wind up doing in the course of service.
Jeff went to take out his badge and, when he did, he noticed that it was flashing. Something was going down at HQ and they needed them back pronto. If it was something minor then they would have called on the communicator, but it was only for the really fun problems that they contacted them thusly. Walker hastily took out his badge and tossed it to the bartender saying, “I’ll be back for it!”, as he ran out the door.
Jeff snapped out of the daze that the flashing light had set him into and ran after Walker. The door slammed on his face and, remembering what he saw two days prior at a fair just the other day, he decided to try walking through the door. With but a moment of focus, he was able to pass cleanly through the door but, in the course of the action, he felt as if he got a cleansing via a tremendous stream of wood pulp administered rectally. Though, the thought of how the door felt did cross his mind, did it feel as if it had been invaded by a person?
“Get over here!” Walker yelled as he held the teleporter open for them, the booth looking reminiscent of the phone booths of yore. Jeff broke back into his run but all the while, he was still amazed at the soaring heights and brilliant lights of the buildings around him and the multitudes of flying cars that swarmed. It was wondrously strange even more so that all of this was stored within the metal confines of New New Jersey, floating around Pluto in geosynchronous orbit. Jeff hopped in the cramped booth and placed his badge on to a touch screen panel. A moment later, they were standing in New Newark’s Mechanized Defense Force garage, the first and last defense against serious threats to the structural integrity of the colony.
“Captain Pippin, Captain Bremmen; you’re vessel,” said General Peter Gald, their boss. He was noticeably tall and stout and in another time he would likely have been a blacksmith, or, perhaps, a chieftain. Even thought they were police officers and keepers of law, in the wild frontier of space, Pete acted more like a boss since the NNMDF was often contracted by “merchants” to defend them from “pirates.” Who was who often changed, but the checks came through and they didn’t ask questions. Besides, there wasn’t much proof on either side for all the chaos that was going on.
The ship, however, was starkly unusual. It was blacker than space itself and had a large curved body with four “fins” sticking out from its fore and back on its left and right. It had a short “head” that stuck forward and a similar shape of metal at the back for a “tail”. It was similar in form to a plesiosaur but without the long neck and a far shorter tail. It was about the size of the average mid-class fighter vessel from the military and it was probably similarly sized to what was, a few centuries ago, called a jumbo jet.
What was most remarkable about the craft was that it had no actual opening inwards. To enter the vehicle one merely had to place their hand upon the head of the vehicle and they would be teleported into the vehicle. However, with each passing in and out, it seemed as though a presence peaked into one’s mind.
Walker’s mind, however, is always focused on the mission, so, with impatience in his voice, he stated, “What’s the beat, boss?”
“We’ve detected something heading in mightt fast amongst the rocks and only your ship is available with the kind of armor and arms needed to take on something like what is headed our way. You’ve got the shields and you’ve got the lasers, but most of all, you have the time. Let’s just hope it’s a comet or something and I’ll see you kids soon.” He retrieved a small glass marble from his pocket, a data orb containing the coordinates for the location of the intruding force.
With great haste, they made their way to the ship, slapped their hands to the head, and jumped. Once inside, they made their way to a pair of seats in the front of the craft. The cockpit was vaguely oval, though its curves were angular and not smooth in the slightest. Its walls were covered with many blinking screens and varying interfaces set into their black metal panels while there was an odd leather patch in the region opposite the two seats. Set into the leather was a strange compass that glowed green. With but a touch, it was supposed to take one to the engine room and workshop of the craft. Whether or not this was true had never been tested by the two.
Once seated, Jeff’s fingers ran across the controls and they were off.
The gate was barely open enough for the ship to get out with the ship flown on its side but the correction was made and they slipped out- best not to leave too much time for something to slip in while jetting out. Walker had the weapon’s and shield’s controls at his command and Jeff just had to guide it to where they had to go. It was quite a task and so they were silent, save for in the many screaming thoughts in their minds as they made the ship run.
However, it seemed that what they were after was coming towards them and not the other way around. They had been flying for just ten minutes when something came up on the HUD moving at speeds that most fighters and some close-to-light cruisers could only dream of.
Jeff felt the strangest feeling settle over him whilst Jeff was calculating the appropriate boson shield levels and arming the various torpedoes and lasers. With the object close enough that they could make out its vague shape as some kind of arrow or projectile- though the shaft seemed too short, the standard shoot-first-ask-questions-later procedure kicked in. But this feeling, this feeling… was wholly unlike anything that Jeff had ever known.
His entire mind was consumed with fear; the kind of fear that one gets when one is a child and swept up into a mess that was not of one’s making. The only other time he felt this was back when he was really walking the beat on the mean streets and saw the eyes of children swept up by the darkness of life. There was someone worth saving out there. He had to act.
“Stop the weapons preps, and prepare the vector trap. We have to catch ‘er before we do something that we might regret!”
“What the fuck are you talking about!? I can’t just stop it now and switch over! Besides, that is a rocket and that is what we’ll write in the report! ” Walker’s fingers hit harder, not just because he was mad but because the ship was giving him an increasing number of errors with each new command he gave it. So many error messages that they filling up the screen.
For a moment, he could swear that one of the errors said, “I gave you a chance” and “It was real.” Those were the thoughts of mad men. Computers don’t say things like that.
The target came into view
Jeffrey decided to take real action and halted the ship and began to move it in reverse.
“What are you doing the ship isn’t just going to-” And just then the ship totally stopped. Perhaps not totally, there were still atmospheric controls inside insuring that they were alive, but all the lights had shut off and they were left to sit in the pitch black. It then lurched about as if parts of it were being torn apart- or, maybe, growing? The sounds of scraping metal screamed.
When the lights came back on, the walls of the cockpit had been replaced with the leathery material. The flesh contained a vast network of glowing green veins that were alit with a great fury and there was only one metal panel left which said, “Constraint release.” The panel flashed this over and over in a scarlet red that beckoned for one to place one’s hand in a recessed hole that was made for a human palm. Deep groves were cut into the hand hold displaying more red lights pulsing in rhythm with the sign.
Walker was a man of action. He fucking walked the walk and there was nothing some motherfucker could talk on his choices. He rose out of his chair and moved to the panel, but Jeff grabbed his hand and said, “What are you doing?”
“What seems to be the right thing at the moment.”
Jeff was stunned in his seat at it all and all he could do was sit, paralyzed and watch his friend make his way to the altar. Walker placed his hand inside and a bright red light shown through all his veins and the light poured out of his eyes as he turned towards Jeff, his mouth gaping wide would from his failed attempt at screaming to mark his pain.
The lights went out again, but the light in his eyes stayed just long enough for Jeff to realize that his body was being torn through the panel which was maybe two feet square. Again, the sounds of scraping metal, but, as the scraping moved from the back to the fore of the ship, it ended from the region it was in after a few moments. Jeff titled the seat and twisted his head as he followed the sound from the back to the ceiling and then to the front again. Once his eyes had situated back to the pitch black front, the lights came back on.
Standing quizzically in front of him was the “object.” It was no arrow or projectile, but rather, it was some kind of human thing. It had the general figure of a lovely lady but it was enveloped in scaly white armor that sat above a layer of writhing, organic cables that glinted as if they were made of platinum. Its head had blue glass eyes that starkly contrasted the ruby metal balls that were found where her joints should be, as well as the orb that was on her forehead and the softball sized orb on her sternum. An ivory scythe swept back from above her forehead-orb and, instead of a mouth, there were two protrusions that extended and recoiled under a regular rhythm that must have been her breath.
She cocked her head left and right in the very same manner that Jeff performed. It was ridiculous that it just happened to follow the same motions as him. Thus, he decided to immediately stop and straighten his back… and so did she.
Suddenly, without any action on Jeff’s part, the cockpit lurched toward her, above her and then slammed down onto her. When it settled, he could swear that he heard something shut. In the middle of the room, light began to pour down from the cockpit as the woman materialized, the armor floating off and dematerializing along with many of the cables save for a few that were returning seemingly to her back. She floated naked and weightless in the light, her eyes closed and her breath ever so slight and chest barely heaving.
The light vanished and she fell a few inches until another light shown a second later from the floor and molecules of seemingly intangible white nothings came together to clothe her in a white dress. This new light slowly dissipated and she delicately settled on the floor.
However, her body was not totally awake and when her erect body came to the floor, her knees immediately buckled and she fell on her ass. The pain threw her eyes open and she began to scream and holler bloody murder.
Jeff knelt towards her and tried to calm her down one might do for scared a child but she was acting nigh feral- or was it barbaric. He just needed to know her name and maybe they could try and figure what was going on.
‘Kei!’
But all Jeff seemed to get from her were screams. With the same care that was required of his old job from a world that now seemed quite alien, he quizzed, “What’s your name?”
But she continued to only scream.
‘Kei! That’s my name!’
He could swear he heard something but it must not have been there. He thought it was all in his head but… maybe…
‘It is in your head!’
“Huh?” he said. Her screaming began to settle and she merely hyperventilated in his presence. He felt something tingling in his head and now saw that it was no trick of a shocked mind. This person that came from… wherever might not be able to speak with words but could speak through her mind. ‘So you’re a psychic?’
‘I guess if that is what you call it, then I’m a psychic.’
‘Well, if you don’t mind my asking…’ Jeff stroked his chin to find the right words worried all the while that she may be probing his mind for what he was thinking. It didn’t matter, things were strange enough as it was. ‘Excuse me, but what exactly are you?’
‘I am like you… or was. I was with… my lover. We went to make love when that thing latched onto mind. I think I might killed him. I think I might have destroyed my home…
There were two minds in that thing. One was dormant and possessed of the colors that I wore before you. The other was dark and evil. It controlled me, but I was able to speak the sleeping one and break free.
The dark one is coming after me. It reported to its masters of where I am and I think more may be coming. But I heard this vessel and came to it.’
Jeff’s communicator started buzzing which gave Kei an awful fright but he moved his left hand up and progressively further down- a universal gesture for calm down it would seem since she responded to it- and she stopped her hysteria as he placed the little black device in his ear.
“Boss… eh…. Uh. What is it?”
“What is it? I guess you guys got the first one but you don’t see the other thing coming!”
Scratching his head and looking down, he tried his very damnedest to sound confident when he uttered, “I’m on it.”
“You better be. And where’s Wa-” He crushed the communicator in his hand and let the shards fall to the ground.
Rising to his feat, he saw, from the HUD, a great and miserable terror: a plutoid sized giant metallic eyeball … monstrosity that was headed for them as it fired off salvos of black plasma from a vicious horde of tentacles extending from its back.
KEATING ECONOMICS: John McCain & The Making of a Financial Crisis
A new, or a reminder of a, reason to get you mad at McCain and to work with all your strength to elect Barack Obama president of the United States of America.
Prescient Madness
On Rohl’s eighth occurrence, of which thirty-seven comprises a whole lunar transition and of which one-thousand-and-eleven-comprises a solar transition, of its axial transition cycle, considering that it is the five-thousand-and-sixty-third round since the unification and that this is one of the last worlds, given the title six-eight-nine of the claw of the last octopodic whip, of the outer rim, there is a disturbance.
Rohl is a remarkably uninteresting world. It is remarkably similar to ancient Ærth which makes it significantly uninteresting. No one had a need for the first Ærth with its stunning lack of valuable resources, and no one has a real need for Rohl. But there is life upon it and where there is life there is always something interesting going on.
Ahmla and Kei, two children from an evolved branch of primates that were once known as homo sapiens, and are now outlawed, have their village on this back water planet and are headed towards a cave at the edge of the jungle that surrounds their absolutely primordial village.
They can speak but they aren’t. They hold each other’s hand as they make their way through the forest. They are clothed, barely, by the tunics made of wild feline skin that they have killed but they have developed the concept of making sandals quite recently and so these young adults, for they at least in full bloom, are pleasantly surprised at what a pleasure it is to not have to walk upon the rocks and bugs on the ground with their feet and the pain that this brings. They are aware, though, that the sandal is not some kind of magical item that will protect them from all possible harm since a member of their village already tested this when he impaled his foot through his spear in a fit of boasting. Primitives.
They reach the face of the cave which is adorned with sacred symbols. Many of their caves are adorned with various designs that are vaguely circles and rods and are meant to eat their way into a person’s subconscious and suggest to them the prospect of fornicating. But not this cave.
The cave walls showed various demons scampering about its mouth and inside there was either the juice of crushed fruit or actual blood smeared against the cave’s walls. The elders had been and deemed it unfit for use and their word was law for these people. It has always been said to be unwise for a person to disrespect their elders for in time they too will be an elder and asking for others to respect you as you once did the former elders. The balance of power is kept by the shifting of time as progress takes us all towards our inevitable doom.
The children walked through the cave running their hands along the red walls with their hands still held, at times their bodies were stretched to their limits but still were able to make their venture work. Most of the walls had fully dried but there were spots where something sticky ran along and was stuck to their fingers, though it removed from their appendages as their fingers dragged along the wall.
The cave twisted and writhed for nigh a mile deep but at no point did it ever divert into more than one path. In fact, the path was relatively straight and had these ape-things any real span of intelligence they would have known that they cave was the product of something that shot into the planet and its trajectory was just curved from the spin that the object was under. But these monkey-creatures were not the shining example of intelligence that they thought they were.
The young couple descended to the very end of the underground network when they happened upon a relatively vast chamber at the network’s deepest depths. The remains of branches that had been dragged into the cave, again a sign of the bolides travel to this planet, had almost completely decomposed into the mossy layer that developed within the cave.
Alba took a leather mat that he had slung over his shoulder and unfolded onto the floor. The room itself was about twenty meters square, though one could not easily tell from its curved walls. The mat was about two meters square and was easily dwarfed by the room but was plenty for the two of them. Alba sat to one side of the mat and Kei sat to another. From her side a strange glow seemed to permeate the room. It did not emit light quite like a star or a traditional light source does but it instead distributed an iridescence that made the whole room fill with a faint light.
The two crossed their legs and shut their eye lids to meditate in the usual pre-coital fashion that their culture espoused. After a few minutes of this peace, they began to levitate and their eyes gradually opened together. From their eyes, a beam of light was emitted that drew them together. But, from behind Kei the light source now displayed an actual beam, or, more specifically, vertical conic expression, that was burning a hole in the ceiling. Alba became distracted and the eye-lock faded instantly and they both fell backwards, Alba to the ground and Kei into something.
Kei’s head fell onto something that was at once both hard as the toughest beast’s carapace and as forgiving as her mother’s breast. She felt something secreting onto her scalp and smelt burning hair and the began to feel it burn away at her skull. Living cables sprouted from the thing below and spread as a all about her body. She was gradually devoured by the thing and… changing. Her body seemed to be seizing,, so far as Alba could tell, but we know better and we know that it has begun to take control off a new specimen.
It arose from the floor to the shock of its former comrade and revealed the vague outline of the eight sided thing that had sprouted its black cables. Its rigid scaly form draped down onto her head forming a metallic mask with two glassy angled eyes, a pair of gas mask like nozzles with which to breathe and a metallic orb resting upon its forehead. The cables secreted a black and fetid fluid that solidified into more armor and the creature began to have further metallic orbs sprout about its body with predominant orbs on its knuckles, elbows, and knees as well as some kind of strange five pointed star that rested upon its sternum. The orbs glowed with a terrible light and the small crater inside the cave became a massive crater for a mile in diameter. The creature shoulders expanded and protruded a pair of spikes formed of a similar metal as the orbs and allowed it to hover in the air.
This is the sum total of this disturbance in the furthest reaches of the galaxy.
It flies across the land burning everything in its path.
We wanted precisely this of our experiments, weapons that can evolve to the point when we would no longer need to build our own fleets so that we may destroy to our hearts content and efficiently.
It is wild and contemptuous.
We desired for things that would be facile in our use but it may one day stand against us.
It is still weaker than us.
We are chief among all. Our will will be done and it shall do it.
Rohl is a remarkably uninteresting world. It is remarkably similar to ancient Ærth which makes it significantly uninteresting. No one had a need for the first Ærth with its stunning lack of valuable resources, and no one has a real need for Rohl. But there is life upon it and where there is life there is always something interesting going on.
Ahmla and Kei, two children from an evolved branch of primates that were once known as homo sapiens, and are now outlawed, have their village on this back water planet and are headed towards a cave at the edge of the jungle that surrounds their absolutely primordial village.
They can speak but they aren’t. They hold each other’s hand as they make their way through the forest. They are clothed, barely, by the tunics made of wild feline skin that they have killed but they have developed the concept of making sandals quite recently and so these young adults, for they at least in full bloom, are pleasantly surprised at what a pleasure it is to not have to walk upon the rocks and bugs on the ground with their feet and the pain that this brings. They are aware, though, that the sandal is not some kind of magical item that will protect them from all possible harm since a member of their village already tested this when he impaled his foot through his spear in a fit of boasting. Primitives.
They reach the face of the cave which is adorned with sacred symbols. Many of their caves are adorned with various designs that are vaguely circles and rods and are meant to eat their way into a person’s subconscious and suggest to them the prospect of fornicating. But not this cave.
The cave walls showed various demons scampering about its mouth and inside there was either the juice of crushed fruit or actual blood smeared against the cave’s walls. The elders had been and deemed it unfit for use and their word was law for these people. It has always been said to be unwise for a person to disrespect their elders for in time they too will be an elder and asking for others to respect you as you once did the former elders. The balance of power is kept by the shifting of time as progress takes us all towards our inevitable doom.
The children walked through the cave running their hands along the red walls with their hands still held, at times their bodies were stretched to their limits but still were able to make their venture work. Most of the walls had fully dried but there were spots where something sticky ran along and was stuck to their fingers, though it removed from their appendages as their fingers dragged along the wall.
The cave twisted and writhed for nigh a mile deep but at no point did it ever divert into more than one path. In fact, the path was relatively straight and had these ape-things any real span of intelligence they would have known that they cave was the product of something that shot into the planet and its trajectory was just curved from the spin that the object was under. But these monkey-creatures were not the shining example of intelligence that they thought they were.
The young couple descended to the very end of the underground network when they happened upon a relatively vast chamber at the network’s deepest depths. The remains of branches that had been dragged into the cave, again a sign of the bolides travel to this planet, had almost completely decomposed into the mossy layer that developed within the cave.
Alba took a leather mat that he had slung over his shoulder and unfolded onto the floor. The room itself was about twenty meters square, though one could not easily tell from its curved walls. The mat was about two meters square and was easily dwarfed by the room but was plenty for the two of them. Alba sat to one side of the mat and Kei sat to another. From her side a strange glow seemed to permeate the room. It did not emit light quite like a star or a traditional light source does but it instead distributed an iridescence that made the whole room fill with a faint light.
The two crossed their legs and shut their eye lids to meditate in the usual pre-coital fashion that their culture espoused. After a few minutes of this peace, they began to levitate and their eyes gradually opened together. From their eyes, a beam of light was emitted that drew them together. But, from behind Kei the light source now displayed an actual beam, or, more specifically, vertical conic expression, that was burning a hole in the ceiling. Alba became distracted and the eye-lock faded instantly and they both fell backwards, Alba to the ground and Kei into something.
Kei’s head fell onto something that was at once both hard as the toughest beast’s carapace and as forgiving as her mother’s breast. She felt something secreting onto her scalp and smelt burning hair and the began to feel it burn away at her skull. Living cables sprouted from the thing below and spread as a all about her body. She was gradually devoured by the thing and… changing. Her body seemed to be seizing,, so far as Alba could tell, but we know better and we know that it has begun to take control off a new specimen.
It arose from the floor to the shock of its former comrade and revealed the vague outline of the eight sided thing that had sprouted its black cables. Its rigid scaly form draped down onto her head forming a metallic mask with two glassy angled eyes, a pair of gas mask like nozzles with which to breathe and a metallic orb resting upon its forehead. The cables secreted a black and fetid fluid that solidified into more armor and the creature began to have further metallic orbs sprout about its body with predominant orbs on its knuckles, elbows, and knees as well as some kind of strange five pointed star that rested upon its sternum. The orbs glowed with a terrible light and the small crater inside the cave became a massive crater for a mile in diameter. The creature shoulders expanded and protruded a pair of spikes formed of a similar metal as the orbs and allowed it to hover in the air.
This is the sum total of this disturbance in the furthest reaches of the galaxy.
It flies across the land burning everything in its path.
We wanted precisely this of our experiments, weapons that can evolve to the point when we would no longer need to build our own fleets so that we may destroy to our hearts content and efficiently.
It is wild and contemptuous.
We desired for things that would be facile in our use but it may one day stand against us.
It is still weaker than us.
We are chief among all. Our will will be done and it shall do it.
In the Moments Before Penetration and Death
“The God of Blades has arisen!” cried Ritao as he ran down the street; it was the one paved road in the whole orchard-island, excluding the paths walked by pedometric working. His flailing arms could barely intimate the full tenor of the situation.
When Alar looked up to see the sky filled with… something so rich and massive that it looked not dissimilar from a painting of what he saw for must be something surreal, he did not believe or, perhaps and more precisely, he did not want to believe what he saw-
A tremendous red armored hominid with ten arms stood dominating the entirety of the heavens. Whatever body lied beneath, if any did, was obscured from view by the completeness of its defenses that showed an intense and brilliant set of deep cut inscriptions barely visible from so many light years away (oh, but if only they could see what from mine eyes this view is). Its right five arms held, in ascending order, a claymore, a scimitar, a mace, a spear, and a scythe and in its left five arms, in a similarly ordered fashion, it held a rapier, a durk, a warhammer, a halberd and a double bladed axe. But the God of Blades was the god of the Twelve Holy Arms of, his once and future majesty, the First-Final Light and his final two arms were the Black Helm of Lunar, which covered the whole of his head with its frontal mask and which extended to two tremendous backwards swept horns, and The Burning White Eyes of Solar. (If they were able to have all time and more to traverse my form they might read the whole of this story.)
This, one of the greatest gods of all, appeared firstly in profile but shifted towards Kern, or its general direction. Ritao and Alard would know not the ecstasy of penetration as the blade plunged into their precious homeworld of Kern, which is merely in the way of far greater machinations. They barely even realized that the rapier that was about to pierce their world was headed for the Writhing Black Chaos, several of whose menacing tentacles were already head towards its paralleled galactically proportioned foe.
All life on Kern was swept away by the rapier’s galactic fluctuations, which such tremendous (and such splendid) objects make, before it plunged through the planet like a spear through a crumb cake.
When Alar looked up to see the sky filled with… something so rich and massive that it looked not dissimilar from a painting of what he saw for must be something surreal, he did not believe or, perhaps and more precisely, he did not want to believe what he saw-
A tremendous red armored hominid with ten arms stood dominating the entirety of the heavens. Whatever body lied beneath, if any did, was obscured from view by the completeness of its defenses that showed an intense and brilliant set of deep cut inscriptions barely visible from so many light years away (oh, but if only they could see what from mine eyes this view is). Its right five arms held, in ascending order, a claymore, a scimitar, a mace, a spear, and a scythe and in its left five arms, in a similarly ordered fashion, it held a rapier, a durk, a warhammer, a halberd and a double bladed axe. But the God of Blades was the god of the Twelve Holy Arms of, his once and future majesty, the First-Final Light and his final two arms were the Black Helm of Lunar, which covered the whole of his head with its frontal mask and which extended to two tremendous backwards swept horns, and The Burning White Eyes of Solar. (If they were able to have all time and more to traverse my form they might read the whole of this story.)
This, one of the greatest gods of all, appeared firstly in profile but shifted towards Kern, or its general direction. Ritao and Alard would know not the ecstasy of penetration as the blade plunged into their precious homeworld of Kern, which is merely in the way of far greater machinations. They barely even realized that the rapier that was about to pierce their world was headed for the Writhing Black Chaos, several of whose menacing tentacles were already head towards its paralleled galactically proportioned foe.
All life on Kern was swept away by the rapier’s galactic fluctuations, which such tremendous (and such splendid) objects make, before it plunged through the planet like a spear through a crumb cake.
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