Tuesday, December 29, 2020
Sunday, October 20, 2019
When you meet a Buddha, tickle them until they fart.
I know, not the real saying about Buddha but I am a lover not a fighter.
I got to love myself...
(disclaimer; you have to be the intended to understand the meaning herein, but the intended is just an amalgam of the many many would be Bringers of the new holy it-ness but turned out as flawed as myself.
Not to mention impotent. Only able to work in humble mysterious ways. Never to actualize the grand reality but merely to have a private imagination of it. That can only be labeled insanity. um....This disclaimer is a post script and obviously my mind is still jam fuddled. I will likely address all in a more astute blog at a later date. I got a couple buddhas to tickle)
It has been along while since i thought in type, I think i for got how. The thoughts I feel best about typing are dressed in a whole bunch of attitude.
I wanted to address this to someone, we'll call 'Sir Ziet Rit", this straw man that I shadowbox shall bear no legal or binding affiliation with the actual dude.
Because my mind is not ready to address him. I haven't given due diligence, I haven't looked into his interpretations and findings from his studies of life the universe and everything.
But there is a lot of stuff to work out before I can really consider the time it will take me to read his works. They are prolific and they make extraordinary claims.
The dedication of thought that examination will take up. And frankly the idea to look into his notions, is quite befuddled with my bad attitude.
But as in the nature of reality, there is some kind of truth in every illusion, so it is ok to meet buddhas.
Buddha said, when you meet a buddha on the road, kill the buddha. Why do you suppose he said that, was he suicidal?
Trick question.
Another zen master said, as a monk was deep in walking meditation, "reverend!" and the monk turned his head and the master scolded him saying "you where all right all by yourself, why did you lose your brains?"
One of those dead zen dudes also said That when you meet your father on the road you do not have to ask is he your father.
Same with a Buddha. I imagine when I meet one they wont be a stranger, so I wont hide my self.
And Jesus said...that if someone tells you the Messiah is here or there, don't believe them because he come in the clouds with his angles etc etc.
And all these verses can speak to some of my misgivings about you Sir Ziet Rit.
I imagine one can only record their slices of the truthyiest truth of all and leave it to the world, this is noble.
I attempt to do this. But my leavings are hardly found, and hardly mined for their worth.
But some find them fascinating, it is for them. They are enough for me.
I too enjoy looking in to others leavings and to glean and confirm and learn more understanding. and it is even cooler of they are live real humans.
Because all my buddhas where already slayed....dust in books they are.
I am a critical thinker Sir Ziet Rit , even though I believe in a great deal of mystical things it may seem.
I know there is a whole world of humans out there. Humans which have a low IQ, humans who are needy, hostile, ignorant, hurting, harming, noble, satisfied, educated, and even theoretical physicist and skeptics ...so many to correct ya know?
I mean to show and get them to understand the so many things that they never thought of before. Remember the most of us are mind slaves. debt slaves, under educated, trained.....animals.
Short of a super dooper, undeniable, unfalsifiable, worldwide, personified, Deity to human, educational contact with the divine divineness of truth ; how can truth come to be known and brought into living being by only one buddha?
I don't think it works like that, because in the real world of humans it never has. God has allowed many many bad things to happen for a long long time, yet we can always fool ourselves that this time he has had enough and will make a new pure earth. Or a new better way, or in my fantasy a new philosophy or religion. (fools that we are)
Humans want their purity handed to them in no uncertain terms. And as soon as a god gives a few of them some personal instructions, they start fighting each other over whose got the correct goods.
I just can't really believe that the golden age will be sudden and I sure can't see it rooted at this time. And if rooted it is not to be noticed until after my life time and maybe well into my son's life time before the embryo takes hold. When he sees his grandchild is growing in a more honest world because people don't put up with slavery and personal ignorance anymore. It is a dream I have of what such a golden age would be like. Good people which value the good stuff with Rulers of intelligence and honest integrity. But until then I kinda think we are in hell, And a whole lot of killing of good humans is likely to happen if the golden age is now.
((well i told you i feel hostile...and it is not correct behavior to accuse the stranger when I know nothing about his meaning....just a few sentences of exchange....
um I mean I am feeling bitter because he wants me to invest days of study into his brain stuff and he won't even really take a look at my brain stuff...not fair.....))
Also this guy brought up a philosophical thingy called "the prisoner dilemma"...and it sounds so similar to the situation I set up between the characters of Diana and George in my story. Now I want to understand that dilemma thing so I can make it such logically in the story. That will help me write the what ever happens next part.
Yey stuff to study.
But not cool on the no quid pro quo. Everybody has good learning and mistaken learning and it is good to check other peoples reason. Sometimes a new angle opens and sometimes errors become easier to spot. And one learns creative ways to incorporate wisdom either way.
Well perhaps I will engage him on his own turf now that I have farted here. *smells so pessimistic in here*
IZM
I got to love myself...
(disclaimer; you have to be the intended to understand the meaning herein, but the intended is just an amalgam of the many many would be Bringers of the new holy it-ness but turned out as flawed as myself.
Not to mention impotent. Only able to work in humble mysterious ways. Never to actualize the grand reality but merely to have a private imagination of it. That can only be labeled insanity. um....This disclaimer is a post script and obviously my mind is still jam fuddled. I will likely address all in a more astute blog at a later date. I got a couple buddhas to tickle)
It has been along while since i thought in type, I think i for got how. The thoughts I feel best about typing are dressed in a whole bunch of attitude.
I wanted to address this to someone, we'll call 'Sir Ziet Rit", this straw man that I shadowbox shall bear no legal or binding affiliation with the actual dude.
Because my mind is not ready to address him. I haven't given due diligence, I haven't looked into his interpretations and findings from his studies of life the universe and everything.
But there is a lot of stuff to work out before I can really consider the time it will take me to read his works. They are prolific and they make extraordinary claims.
The dedication of thought that examination will take up. And frankly the idea to look into his notions, is quite befuddled with my bad attitude.
But as in the nature of reality, there is some kind of truth in every illusion, so it is ok to meet buddhas.
Buddha said, when you meet a buddha on the road, kill the buddha. Why do you suppose he said that, was he suicidal?
Trick question.
Another zen master said, as a monk was deep in walking meditation, "reverend!" and the monk turned his head and the master scolded him saying "you where all right all by yourself, why did you lose your brains?"
One of those dead zen dudes also said That when you meet your father on the road you do not have to ask is he your father.
Same with a Buddha. I imagine when I meet one they wont be a stranger, so I wont hide my self.
And Jesus said...that if someone tells you the Messiah is here or there, don't believe them because he come in the clouds with his angles etc etc.
And all these verses can speak to some of my misgivings about you Sir Ziet Rit.
I imagine one can only record their slices of the truthyiest truth of all and leave it to the world, this is noble.
I attempt to do this. But my leavings are hardly found, and hardly mined for their worth.
But some find them fascinating, it is for them. They are enough for me.
I too enjoy looking in to others leavings and to glean and confirm and learn more understanding. and it is even cooler of they are live real humans.
Because all my buddhas where already slayed....dust in books they are.
I am a critical thinker Sir Ziet Rit , even though I believe in a great deal of mystical things it may seem.
I know there is a whole world of humans out there. Humans which have a low IQ, humans who are needy, hostile, ignorant, hurting, harming, noble, satisfied, educated, and even theoretical physicist and skeptics ...so many to correct ya know?
I mean to show and get them to understand the so many things that they never thought of before. Remember the most of us are mind slaves. debt slaves, under educated, trained.....animals.
Short of a super dooper, undeniable, unfalsifiable, worldwide, personified, Deity to human, educational contact with the divine divineness of truth ; how can truth come to be known and brought into living being by only one buddha?
I don't think it works like that, because in the real world of humans it never has. God has allowed many many bad things to happen for a long long time, yet we can always fool ourselves that this time he has had enough and will make a new pure earth. Or a new better way, or in my fantasy a new philosophy or religion. (fools that we are)
Humans want their purity handed to them in no uncertain terms. And as soon as a god gives a few of them some personal instructions, they start fighting each other over whose got the correct goods.
I just can't really believe that the golden age will be sudden and I sure can't see it rooted at this time. And if rooted it is not to be noticed until after my life time and maybe well into my son's life time before the embryo takes hold. When he sees his grandchild is growing in a more honest world because people don't put up with slavery and personal ignorance anymore. It is a dream I have of what such a golden age would be like. Good people which value the good stuff with Rulers of intelligence and honest integrity. But until then I kinda think we are in hell, And a whole lot of killing of good humans is likely to happen if the golden age is now.
((well i told you i feel hostile...and it is not correct behavior to accuse the stranger when I know nothing about his meaning....just a few sentences of exchange....
um I mean I am feeling bitter because he wants me to invest days of study into his brain stuff and he won't even really take a look at my brain stuff...not fair.....))
Also this guy brought up a philosophical thingy called "the prisoner dilemma"...and it sounds so similar to the situation I set up between the characters of Diana and George in my story. Now I want to understand that dilemma thing so I can make it such logically in the story. That will help me write the what ever happens next part.
Yey stuff to study.
But not cool on the no quid pro quo. Everybody has good learning and mistaken learning and it is good to check other peoples reason. Sometimes a new angle opens and sometimes errors become easier to spot. And one learns creative ways to incorporate wisdom either way.
Well perhaps I will engage him on his own turf now that I have farted here. *smells so pessimistic in here*
IZM
Sunday, September 23, 2018
Hello, It has been four years.
Dear unreader, I had abandoned you. Dear novel, I have sorta butchered you. But I have comeback with a repair kit.
It has actually been since 2012 since I last wrote, somewhere along the way I added story line and then I kept wrestling with my morals. Or more perfectly I was struggling with my perceptions of what others might be confused by and it started to choke my muse.
But the story of the characters are still in me, and my life adventures these years have given my muse a little thrill. I am thinking about George's career and the book of his adventures. But I felt I had rushed chapters 20 thru 30, and feel that I have not expanded One thru Ten. And I was thinking about expanding each chapter with each characters having a voice of observation. This allows me to expand as much "time" as I need. And if I had already suggested this years ago, then yeah I didn't read the comments before posting lol.
But I am not going to concern myself with whether or not the reader understands what whips are. If they have this mel gibson inspired image, they are no where near what I envision. So there are parts in my introductory chapters that I feel block the reader and is a bit of a hurdle to get over to get themselves into the spirit of the story of these kids lives.
But in retrospect, that shock is sort of a theme of loosing your freedom and being put into a strict environment.
I have tried to explain that this is a different reference to things, these people are not human, but evolved in their own reality and view violence and use it quite differently than we learned it on Earth.
These evolutions have understood that pain is a teacher. Can be a conduit of instruction. Even many cultures in the earth understood this. There is pain in martial arts, and you would not call it abuse. Humans have always mentally connected, although incorrectly used punishment with moral lesson. But we are still very unevolved and stuck in the mentalities of ego.
For us, we cannot separate our desire to punish because our ego is hurt, or because our god's ego is hurt. Because we take a personal thing against the personality of someone....because they won't shut up. Humans use violence in an undisciplined way. They will kill their babies to teach them to obey the order to shut up.
Human minds have a shadow. And we don't like it, so to think ourselves better we take the position of nonviolence. And think there is never a need nor use for it except in self defense.
Yet violence will continue to be a part of our experience and our learning. You can be very nonviolent, as to never feel hate or vengeance, yet there will be a thing that happens that leaves you with a need to oppose the course of another thing. Other humans tend to be that thing. But undisciplined violence is when we get caught up in the moment of justice (vengeance?) and go over board. Like they slashed our tire, then we murder their dogs and accost them as long as we live in the same town. They throw snow on your lawn, we dump our sewage on theirs. These things perpetuate hate and justifying reasons to be violent.
We act on these emotions and then we build ideologies around these emotions, then we make friends who have ideologues around theses emotions. Soon we try to out do each other in the manors in which we carry out justice ( vengeance?) upon others.
Who have we forgot? If we could exact the violence that is equal to the offense, without our egos satisfaction, then human characters can learn lessons and grow in life. Sometimes a physical catalyst connects the dots, or becomes a point of decisive memory. We know this is so, because how many of us have pain as the thing that helped us make life changing decisions? hum?
I'll wait.
On Kehshathria they made a science of the psychology of discipline. And they are a moral society, and everyone is on a spectrum just like humans are. But socially certain behaviors are not given as much respect as they are among humans. Power, to a Kehshatrian is interpreted by levels logic, understanding and self command rather than obtaining the fear and control of others to suit a personal narrative.
This understanding is something I hitherto fore had been feeling the burden of and could not write. If my reader cant get past chapter ten, how can I tell the story?
So I am going to work on some explanatory expansions and try to suit them into any spaces I can find to throw a tangent.
I wonder if an author can ....(insert an entire history of reverie with dialogue that covers an entire chapter from everyone's point of view)
***the voice that plays the characters****
Gee I don't know, but that horror story writing guy, who wrote about a girl with telekinetic powers and a crazy mother, seemed to have been able to put in very long soliloquies right in the middle of the drama and or soliloquy of an other character. I am sure we can.
**** the author*****
randomly insert reveries without missing a beat in the timing of the story?
Anyway I will experiment, see this is the kind of thing that makes having a good education useful....wish I had one.
So I am going to list a guide map to the location of the new inserts here
First one is George in Chap 30. I will be working on an other George insert for the end of chapter sixteen, over this weekend or so.
(sometimes novels take for ever to write, and then to think gah it has no audience, no one cares , your idea is shit man......is the strange and violent illogical fear that most authors have to deal with. freaken humans)
Well time to work on this. I really cant get the mo jo to add new material until i fix that i got already. Also I have been cutting out bits of dialogue. nothing Major but really won't be mentioned so much such as the scene where Jerry is trying to go down stairs and has his first....(oh yeah this bit would be a spoiler) I think there where too many words, what was said can be shortened for more emphasis.
well , see ya, I dont feel like thinking philosophically or even confessing the lessons my real life has been teaching me. (pssst Narcissists really suck and I plan to make George mentally eviscerate one , after the other, after the other, but that would be my shadow violence trying to exact more pain in effigy than I experienced...lol)
It has actually been since 2012 since I last wrote, somewhere along the way I added story line and then I kept wrestling with my morals. Or more perfectly I was struggling with my perceptions of what others might be confused by and it started to choke my muse.
But the story of the characters are still in me, and my life adventures these years have given my muse a little thrill. I am thinking about George's career and the book of his adventures. But I felt I had rushed chapters 20 thru 30, and feel that I have not expanded One thru Ten. And I was thinking about expanding each chapter with each characters having a voice of observation. This allows me to expand as much "time" as I need. And if I had already suggested this years ago, then yeah I didn't read the comments before posting lol.
But I am not going to concern myself with whether or not the reader understands what whips are. If they have this mel gibson inspired image, they are no where near what I envision. So there are parts in my introductory chapters that I feel block the reader and is a bit of a hurdle to get over to get themselves into the spirit of the story of these kids lives.
But in retrospect, that shock is sort of a theme of loosing your freedom and being put into a strict environment.
I have tried to explain that this is a different reference to things, these people are not human, but evolved in their own reality and view violence and use it quite differently than we learned it on Earth.
These evolutions have understood that pain is a teacher. Can be a conduit of instruction. Even many cultures in the earth understood this. There is pain in martial arts, and you would not call it abuse. Humans have always mentally connected, although incorrectly used punishment with moral lesson. But we are still very unevolved and stuck in the mentalities of ego.
For us, we cannot separate our desire to punish because our ego is hurt, or because our god's ego is hurt. Because we take a personal thing against the personality of someone....because they won't shut up. Humans use violence in an undisciplined way. They will kill their babies to teach them to obey the order to shut up.
Human minds have a shadow. And we don't like it, so to think ourselves better we take the position of nonviolence. And think there is never a need nor use for it except in self defense.
Yet violence will continue to be a part of our experience and our learning. You can be very nonviolent, as to never feel hate or vengeance, yet there will be a thing that happens that leaves you with a need to oppose the course of another thing. Other humans tend to be that thing. But undisciplined violence is when we get caught up in the moment of justice (vengeance?) and go over board. Like they slashed our tire, then we murder their dogs and accost them as long as we live in the same town. They throw snow on your lawn, we dump our sewage on theirs. These things perpetuate hate and justifying reasons to be violent.
We act on these emotions and then we build ideologies around these emotions, then we make friends who have ideologues around theses emotions. Soon we try to out do each other in the manors in which we carry out justice ( vengeance?) upon others.
Who have we forgot? If we could exact the violence that is equal to the offense, without our egos satisfaction, then human characters can learn lessons and grow in life. Sometimes a physical catalyst connects the dots, or becomes a point of decisive memory. We know this is so, because how many of us have pain as the thing that helped us make life changing decisions? hum?
I'll wait.
On Kehshathria they made a science of the psychology of discipline. And they are a moral society, and everyone is on a spectrum just like humans are. But socially certain behaviors are not given as much respect as they are among humans. Power, to a Kehshatrian is interpreted by levels logic, understanding and self command rather than obtaining the fear and control of others to suit a personal narrative.
This understanding is something I hitherto fore had been feeling the burden of and could not write. If my reader cant get past chapter ten, how can I tell the story?
So I am going to work on some explanatory expansions and try to suit them into any spaces I can find to throw a tangent.
I wonder if an author can ....(insert an entire history of reverie with dialogue that covers an entire chapter from everyone's point of view)
***the voice that plays the characters****
Gee I don't know, but that horror story writing guy, who wrote about a girl with telekinetic powers and a crazy mother, seemed to have been able to put in very long soliloquies right in the middle of the drama and or soliloquy of an other character. I am sure we can.
**** the author*****
randomly insert reveries without missing a beat in the timing of the story?
Anyway I will experiment, see this is the kind of thing that makes having a good education useful....wish I had one.
So I am going to list a guide map to the location of the new inserts here
First one is George in Chap 30. I will be working on an other George insert for the end of chapter sixteen, over this weekend or so.
(sometimes novels take for ever to write, and then to think gah it has no audience, no one cares , your idea is shit man......is the strange and violent illogical fear that most authors have to deal with. freaken humans)
Well time to work on this. I really cant get the mo jo to add new material until i fix that i got already. Also I have been cutting out bits of dialogue. nothing Major but really won't be mentioned so much such as the scene where Jerry is trying to go down stairs and has his first....(oh yeah this bit would be a spoiler) I think there where too many words, what was said can be shortened for more emphasis.
well , see ya, I dont feel like thinking philosophically or even confessing the lessons my real life has been teaching me. (pssst Narcissists really suck and I plan to make George mentally eviscerate one , after the other, after the other, but that would be my shadow violence trying to exact more pain in effigy than I experienced...lol)
Friday, January 24, 2014
2014 Wow and notes on my would-be novel.
I almost forgot to post anything for this new year, huh?
Well, I got myself all side tracked with the many changes of life. Plotting a move, worrying about family. But recently I had been inspired by and old series of children's books that reminded me of how I came to invent the world of Keshathria.
This series is called The Great Brain by John Fitzgerald, and it is as if Huckleberry Finn and Laura Ingales had a book baby.
Written in the 1960s, and set in the 1880's, Fitzgearled was able to capture the common culture of children and family of the times. Many of the childhood situations had not changed, many of the discipline and family justice had not changed in his choice of era. But must seem forien to the kid culture of the 2000's. Cool nostalgia, when there really isn't much against taking it back.
The situations and the notions of old town living and the general mindset of the adult culture, where integriy, and intelligent partisipation for the good of all, was upheld. A lot more in the public at the very least. A child of this age wanted to grow up to be hard working like Lincoln, or a strong leader like Washington. And one would like to believe that the levels of deceptive means where nothing like in our modern age.
My vision of my world was to wonder about what american culture would be today if these common values had never deminished. What if people still took only what they needed and paid back what they owe? What if families talked? What if the unpublic behind the doors culture reflected the outer culture? What if humans really did care about discipline, wisdom and integrity more than power, gain and glory?
Once we had a traditional and a shame culture in the world timeline. And even today there are undiscovered tribes of humans who may also seem so primitive to our take on physical discipline and shame. But we have invented whole new methods of scaring the minds of our citizens, haven't we? Methods biased on some official not having his way and over powering your desire to be free and self willed. Methods non the less immorally scarring the minds of men without justice or any priority except vengeance.
My vision is based on the fantasy of, if there where a human culture that held onto their valuse concerning the best government of man for the good of mankind, rather than working really hard to PRETEND they have that kind of culture, then what would the modern days look like?
Would a shame culture work if the punishments where in whole baised on social and moral standards, rather than retaliation and dominance standards?
I don't know. But I know that human personality ranges, and includes use of violent nature, even the wisest among us would quothe, "to everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven."
In the World of Keshathria they practice different methods of energy consumption. They stock pile, use and recycle, as well as seek to replace or use more efficiently from all of their resources. You may produce your own electricity, or buy it from the Solar company, the Electric company, the Water plant, or chose alternate lifestyle. In the cases of the first and the last certain fire codes and public safety measures are applied as well as special medical coverage because a pioneer's life is a rugged one to be sure.
I suppose they could have evolved to only use the sun for their energy needs, I mean, it sure is big enough to last them. But they are a free market society. Only more like, capitalism with a ceiling. What would happen if the Sun Company became the only game in town, and then the coal, and oil and water people standards of service went down? Well, in a culture of personal gain and greed you would have the seeds for corporate state. If we want to honer free choice, if the people had options to use what they can both financially and morally afford; then pride in the worker and pride in the buyer are created; happy people.
In the Kingdom of Kehshathria they aren't going for the gain but for the longevity of the business. Every business in the towns striving to improve their product, their name. Rather than have to sell ten refrigerators to a family in 20 years, it is better to sell the same family 20 refrigerators over ten generations. And maybe their Aunts and newlywed nieces, and so forth.
This ceiling is something like net. No one or few persons ought to have a monopoly of businesses. There may have to be lawful caps in place but I, the author haven't gotten to learn much about political theory. Just seems like a cool idea and because I am the author I can make believe that it works. An' ya know what, if I am a good author, I can make you believe it too. (evil cackle)
Now I have pondered, should my towns have anyone who uses horse and buggy? If my pretend society is market free and conscious free, then I suppose there would be people who decide, everything they need is near by, or would be a short trip away....they don't want to deal with car maintence, cheaper to have a horse. And they do it, they ride in the bikers lane everyday. Now the wagon dealer's shop is not quite in the city so they might need a ride getting out there to buy a horse and buggy.
Well I guess I am out of things to say about that. Simply imagine that the 1800's went on. Try to over look the fact human nature hasn't changed all that much and i would find corruption and petty voience back then, abuse and alcoholics and all that. But pretend instead, that this is a fantasy that humans had refined that American spirit. That people still spoke and had conversations with the likes of Emerson and Jefferson. People had deep principles, not shallow sides. And making one's experience of life be a quest for truth. This is not an impossible dream.
I have gotten some flack form others about the use of violence, their reactions where personal. That's when I understood that violence might not be a necessary piece of culture, the notion of it and outrage against it would over shadow the story of the book. I suppose, for some readers anyway.
So I started to wonder a bit about it, and figured maybe I just haven't added enough lengthy story telling inserts. Those inserts I warned the reader about earlier that I would be adding to put more drama and play into the story. I am thinking that I have not wrote in the emotional justice I was going for.
And then I think one can't please them all, and that people who read books, I am sure have read worse. So Ima gonna work on this when I get the notion. But now I have like, two inserts I want to write so ta ta for now.
Post Script Update jan 30th. There is now a couple inserts in Chapter 17 and I am planing out inserts for chapters 3, between chapters 4 and 5, and also something in chapter 19 I think.
I got to thinking about this slow and tedious "live novel idea". I mean many people take their whole lives to write their novel. they take classes and write and read a billion things to learn how to get that soul on the paper.
Yeah, its hard.
And the great fear that, well, just nobody will get it. And like the millions of other would be artists; their novels become many old dusty pages stashed in the trunk deep in an attic.
And anyway, since my blog is giving the guts of creation and the agony of planning into the mix. isn't this blog more like a....
*giggles*
Docu-novel?
Well, I got myself all side tracked with the many changes of life. Plotting a move, worrying about family. But recently I had been inspired by and old series of children's books that reminded me of how I came to invent the world of Keshathria.
This series is called The Great Brain by John Fitzgerald, and it is as if Huckleberry Finn and Laura Ingales had a book baby.
Written in the 1960s, and set in the 1880's, Fitzgearled was able to capture the common culture of children and family of the times. Many of the childhood situations had not changed, many of the discipline and family justice had not changed in his choice of era. But must seem forien to the kid culture of the 2000's. Cool nostalgia, when there really isn't much against taking it back.
The situations and the notions of old town living and the general mindset of the adult culture, where integriy, and intelligent partisipation for the good of all, was upheld. A lot more in the public at the very least. A child of this age wanted to grow up to be hard working like Lincoln, or a strong leader like Washington. And one would like to believe that the levels of deceptive means where nothing like in our modern age.
My vision of my world was to wonder about what american culture would be today if these common values had never deminished. What if people still took only what they needed and paid back what they owe? What if families talked? What if the unpublic behind the doors culture reflected the outer culture? What if humans really did care about discipline, wisdom and integrity more than power, gain and glory?
Once we had a traditional and a shame culture in the world timeline. And even today there are undiscovered tribes of humans who may also seem so primitive to our take on physical discipline and shame. But we have invented whole new methods of scaring the minds of our citizens, haven't we? Methods biased on some official not having his way and over powering your desire to be free and self willed. Methods non the less immorally scarring the minds of men without justice or any priority except vengeance.
My vision is based on the fantasy of, if there where a human culture that held onto their valuse concerning the best government of man for the good of mankind, rather than working really hard to PRETEND they have that kind of culture, then what would the modern days look like?
Would a shame culture work if the punishments where in whole baised on social and moral standards, rather than retaliation and dominance standards?
I don't know. But I know that human personality ranges, and includes use of violent nature, even the wisest among us would quothe, "to everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven."
In the World of Keshathria they practice different methods of energy consumption. They stock pile, use and recycle, as well as seek to replace or use more efficiently from all of their resources. You may produce your own electricity, or buy it from the Solar company, the Electric company, the Water plant, or chose alternate lifestyle. In the cases of the first and the last certain fire codes and public safety measures are applied as well as special medical coverage because a pioneer's life is a rugged one to be sure.
I suppose they could have evolved to only use the sun for their energy needs, I mean, it sure is big enough to last them. But they are a free market society. Only more like, capitalism with a ceiling. What would happen if the Sun Company became the only game in town, and then the coal, and oil and water people standards of service went down? Well, in a culture of personal gain and greed you would have the seeds for corporate state. If we want to honer free choice, if the people had options to use what they can both financially and morally afford; then pride in the worker and pride in the buyer are created; happy people.
In the Kingdom of Kehshathria they aren't going for the gain but for the longevity of the business. Every business in the towns striving to improve their product, their name. Rather than have to sell ten refrigerators to a family in 20 years, it is better to sell the same family 20 refrigerators over ten generations. And maybe their Aunts and newlywed nieces, and so forth.
This ceiling is something like net. No one or few persons ought to have a monopoly of businesses. There may have to be lawful caps in place but I, the author haven't gotten to learn much about political theory. Just seems like a cool idea and because I am the author I can make believe that it works. An' ya know what, if I am a good author, I can make you believe it too. (evil cackle)
Now I have pondered, should my towns have anyone who uses horse and buggy? If my pretend society is market free and conscious free, then I suppose there would be people who decide, everything they need is near by, or would be a short trip away....they don't want to deal with car maintence, cheaper to have a horse. And they do it, they ride in the bikers lane everyday. Now the wagon dealer's shop is not quite in the city so they might need a ride getting out there to buy a horse and buggy.
Well I guess I am out of things to say about that. Simply imagine that the 1800's went on. Try to over look the fact human nature hasn't changed all that much and i would find corruption and petty voience back then, abuse and alcoholics and all that. But pretend instead, that this is a fantasy that humans had refined that American spirit. That people still spoke and had conversations with the likes of Emerson and Jefferson. People had deep principles, not shallow sides. And making one's experience of life be a quest for truth. This is not an impossible dream.
I have gotten some flack form others about the use of violence, their reactions where personal. That's when I understood that violence might not be a necessary piece of culture, the notion of it and outrage against it would over shadow the story of the book. I suppose, for some readers anyway.
So I started to wonder a bit about it, and figured maybe I just haven't added enough lengthy story telling inserts. Those inserts I warned the reader about earlier that I would be adding to put more drama and play into the story. I am thinking that I have not wrote in the emotional justice I was going for.
And then I think one can't please them all, and that people who read books, I am sure have read worse. So Ima gonna work on this when I get the notion. But now I have like, two inserts I want to write so ta ta for now.
Post Script Update jan 30th. There is now a couple inserts in Chapter 17 and I am planing out inserts for chapters 3, between chapters 4 and 5, and also something in chapter 19 I think.
I got to thinking about this slow and tedious "live novel idea". I mean many people take their whole lives to write their novel. they take classes and write and read a billion things to learn how to get that soul on the paper.
Yeah, its hard.
And the great fear that, well, just nobody will get it. And like the millions of other would be artists; their novels become many old dusty pages stashed in the trunk deep in an attic.
And anyway, since my blog is giving the guts of creation and the agony of planning into the mix. isn't this blog more like a....
*giggles*
Docu-novel?
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Rethinking... and my appologies
I am going to scrap this novel idea or at the very least bench it, with the veiw to majorly overhaul the arrangement, and therefore the chapter block of 30 thru 39 " the breaking of George"'(subtitled the inadvertant fucking up of young Diana to be answered for in book three); can't be written. And.....well there would be no need to write the chapter block 50 thru 59 " the romance of Carol and Jerry" becasue frankly I dont think I shall ever becomre brave enough to write all that grown up stuff.
Besides no one reads them....who then stays my aquaintence...so there must be something wrong... and I am no where near as wicked as Stephen King....... but I think it is the great contrast...between my spiritaully searching earlier works, and then the violent facsist brainwashing for the good of mankind thing.
But.....don't judge harshly, I did not nail the thing. see .I ...
Lost the faith. Came to the conclusion that perhaps violence cannot play a role in human society, and my novel was an attempt or thought experiment to .oh......give it meaning. I guess.
I mean as a creature humans have violent natures. And trama alters us...and what if, ya know for the good not the ego. Punishment to enguage the mind, not hurt to pay back at excess of the ill. Yet I did write my examples extreem. And I admit confused the reader wether or not this was a trashy Sm story. or might I be creating a little role play society like the Gor novels did. But not a realilistic system. Which in it's own way is fun.... *ahem a cult following if you will*
But the model I was useing for one thing is not correct becasue I am both players. And also that I had chosen first person, even if one of the person' is a mind reader or extreemly omniscient, it is "supposdly" really hard to tell a story in first person. (ok it is, but I chose four 'first' persons)
I have come up with a way to fix that issue.
And who knows if I would ever achieve this idea but; what if I wrote the story compeltely in the first person of each character....with cirten polt actions being the only connection between each story line....rather than try to weave it all together in a flowingly schiztophrenic unity. But I would also like to add this element ... because I love to dream the impossible dream ... to also make the story choose your own adventure.
*grinning with delusions of happy grandure*
Well anyway. What there is here below is quite underdeveloped. And I have since the last writing become somewhat ashamed of this telling of the story, and thought about taking this and making twists...like (eek) prosicuting Carol as some have suggested...meaning maybe I haven't conveyed my desire that she be the good guy even if precieved as a bad guy.....oh my I don't know.
But I did plead to the muses in the begining of this endeavour I really do need a co-author, I have learned that it is still somewhat true. I need an anchor that can objectivly give literary and artistic counsel, who gets my primal vision.
So.. I guess I am back to writing about life the universe and nothing at all.
I brushed past a soul on youtube, he was interesting. I attempted to reach out to him....and folloing my normal rutine I kinda followed his steps to my blog and thought oh shit.....he wouldn't read past the last chapter...sooooo..........I figure it was time to write my appoligy. Because I am not about to delete three year's of blog time just cause I got embarrassed. I learned with book one...never throw out the original, no mater how much you think you advanced as an artist.
So...there ya go. If you wanna see before I tried writing I suggest the drop down menu, circa 2009 perhaps....
Well Ill be back if'n I gets me something to say.
Justine.
Besides no one reads them....who then stays my aquaintence...so there must be something wrong... and I am no where near as wicked as Stephen King....... but I think it is the great contrast...between my spiritaully searching earlier works, and then the violent facsist brainwashing for the good of mankind thing.
But.....don't judge harshly, I did not nail the thing. see .I ...
Lost the faith. Came to the conclusion that perhaps violence cannot play a role in human society, and my novel was an attempt or thought experiment to .oh......give it meaning. I guess.
I mean as a creature humans have violent natures. And trama alters us...and what if, ya know for the good not the ego. Punishment to enguage the mind, not hurt to pay back at excess of the ill. Yet I did write my examples extreem. And I admit confused the reader wether or not this was a trashy Sm story. or might I be creating a little role play society like the Gor novels did. But not a realilistic system. Which in it's own way is fun.... *ahem a cult following if you will*
But the model I was useing for one thing is not correct becasue I am both players. And also that I had chosen first person, even if one of the person' is a mind reader or extreemly omniscient, it is "supposdly" really hard to tell a story in first person. (ok it is, but I chose four 'first' persons)
I have come up with a way to fix that issue.
And who knows if I would ever achieve this idea but; what if I wrote the story compeltely in the first person of each character....with cirten polt actions being the only connection between each story line....rather than try to weave it all together in a flowingly schiztophrenic unity. But I would also like to add this element ... because I love to dream the impossible dream ... to also make the story choose your own adventure.
*grinning with delusions of happy grandure*
Well anyway. What there is here below is quite underdeveloped. And I have since the last writing become somewhat ashamed of this telling of the story, and thought about taking this and making twists...like (eek) prosicuting Carol as some have suggested...meaning maybe I haven't conveyed my desire that she be the good guy even if precieved as a bad guy.....oh my I don't know.
But I did plead to the muses in the begining of this endeavour I really do need a co-author, I have learned that it is still somewhat true. I need an anchor that can objectivly give literary and artistic counsel, who gets my primal vision.
So.. I guess I am back to writing about life the universe and nothing at all.
I brushed past a soul on youtube, he was interesting. I attempted to reach out to him....and folloing my normal rutine I kinda followed his steps to my blog and thought oh shit.....he wouldn't read past the last chapter...sooooo..........I figure it was time to write my appoligy. Because I am not about to delete three year's of blog time just cause I got embarrassed. I learned with book one...never throw out the original, no mater how much you think you advanced as an artist.
So...there ya go. If you wanna see before I tried writing I suggest the drop down menu, circa 2009 perhaps....
Well Ill be back if'n I gets me something to say.
Justine.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Kehshathria Chapter Thirty
Kehshathria Chapter Thirty
***Jerry***
Thursday went by in a sullen mood. The air was dead. Diana worried about if George was going to sell her out. She kept with the meditation orders, didn't clean that corner, didn't clean the coffee pot and so forth. George seemed to have a grip on his situation, and pretended that this was a normal day. And it was, except the air was void of connection between each of us. Mistress was again off before dawn.
I lingered over my breakfast this morning, and I maintained the flaws I had systematically set during each day of the week. George, now finally able to stand was catching a bit of fates hell trying to maintain the lawn. He was grumbly, then mute most often in deep thought. And I let him go again with a deep exhale. As I did, I noticed that I had just finished dusting the chandelier. I was three steps away when I cursed about it. Well consider that my flaw of the day Mistress. I chuckle to myself and go about my work.
When she inspected all was good, but she said to me "Jerry one of your flaws is missing." I replied "It was always there I just forgot Mistress." and she smiled at me and laid her hand on my shoulder and said "Well done, now serve the dinner."
"Mistress, I am starting to wonder if you are trying to leave us. You haven't eaten breakfast with us all week. Things aren't the same." We tried to engage her in chat but she simply said she was preparing an event at the school, some visiting dignitaries. There was also a new class of Reform Students that needed accommodations planed for. She did look exhausted.
*** George****
Right after Reformer left for the school I was tracking my way thru the fence like over growth of her back side yard, to an abandoned house about two streets over form Us. I had been at this task for a couple months now and I started to wonder why I was not getting any comeuppance from Diana for this. She's been writing to her sister and I have been taking all the risk. And did she offer any help while I was being humiliated? I scoff to myself while gassing the lawn mower.
Seems to me... I mean why am I doing this for her anyway? My thoughts meander. Because she flattered me? Because I wanted to challenge the house and Carol? Well guess what, I know damned well what I am doing will get me whipped if not screw everything up. But on the other hand, being skilled at evasion could be useful in some later situation. Who am I kidding, Reformer already knows, the house told her. But she hasn't told me, so there is a purpose to keep doing it.
Maybe that is the flaw in my daily work. I made sure to inspect the hedge when I returned, wondering if perhaps I had even been careless and had it ever looked trodden? The edges of my consciousness darkening with realization that I was trapped in certain paranoia, and I needed to share the burden with D.
She started to beam as she viewed the new letter in my hand and I felt the pride in the task diminish. She noticed and asked me what has changed? I jeered that there ought to be fresh pies for every letter day while I brushed past her.
****Jerry****
We ate in relative silence, we cleaned up, we watched a little T.V. At some point it was like the air turned back on. I saw MsC, suddenly look at D, and then to G. During commercial she paused the TV. " I have just thought of a game, George. I have found an opportunity to give you a training exercise. And Diana you will be involved too. I have a riddle to solve.
" The trouble with mental telepathy is that I can only hear distressed thought, lucid thought and questions. The only place your thoughts are absolutely private is in your bedrooms, by design of Peter. I don't hear day dreams, or reasoning, or worry. That should be a little help full tid bit you might consider for the game. " They glance at each other, and assume defensive postures while MsC continued.
" You might well wonder what I have been hearing. Just a moment ago, I heard Diana think. "what if he tells." And I am saying Don't tell. Please don't tell. If you do the consequences will backfire both ways. You see George has to learn he will not have the advantage to manipulate you, and you need deal with yourself. George you have a secret, and you must protect it, I want that secret from you, but it will cost you double what ever is justice for Diana. And I am about to unleash hell upon you , that will not let up until you confess. Diana if you confess, he gets half of what is justice for you, and you get to join him in hell. "
George's eyes dart back and forth and he intelligently asked, ' and if no one confesses Reformer?" And she replied. " That seldom happens. But then Diana can consider herself forgiven. So that she has an interest in you not telling. Try pondering the possible backfires a while longer, boy."
Our evening passed more slowly and no retreat was given to either one to retire early. This ordeal I thought was particularly evil but I kept my mouth shut, I mean if D did something wrong then MsC can handle it any, but to use it against G for trying to use it against her, was it so wrong in a good way or just wrong?
Then there was Friday. The morning quiet, the Mistress gone early, the other two up and alert with me which was practically to the reverberation of MsC's baracuuda peeling out.
At some point D asked G what was was gonna do; and he told her try putting it out of her mind. He went on explaining how there is no trouble at all for her. MsC turned it all around on him. She protested that was only if he could take it. G winked at her and said you have nothing to worry about tonight D, I really shouldn't have tried it anyway. I was just pissed off, but not anymore.
"You where going to use me?" she asked stunned. He ruefully nodded. "I thought I would be able to solicit you for help with my work. Heaven knows why I am telling you this except, that I am not going to do that anymore. I don't want to see you get punished for ...it. I am sorry, Diana." Then she smiled slightly and we ate in acquaintanceship.
The list was the same. We went about our details. D and G maintained the set standard of the week. I felt differently, so I did nothing but polish a decorative plate from the dinning room, and lounge around. Come inspection time MsC said everything was good with them but she pointed out my perfect plate. I picked it up and told her " No Mistress, it was not flawless until you looked at it. Now..." and I dropped it. She grinned at me with her eyes sparkling, and said "Sir, you are invited to my den. You two serve dinner while we're out.
****George****
Jerry has not really had anything to say to me since , well since my story. His eyes have turned grey on me and I miss him more than I thought I would. I am more sorry that I thought I would be, here watching mutely as our friendship fades. It was my fault. I made him a liar. When he was always so much better at life that I was. Before all this.... insanity.
They really should not have put us in together. They really should have seen his innocence. The innocence that I see now as he stepped away from the broken plate, and now steps away to the unknown den. I love my friend but I was a bad friend.
"Jerry" I spurt , he turned his head toward me before following her into the den." I apologize that I dragged you down." He shot me an asymmetrical grimace, "You didn't take me any where I didn't want to go, man." "Forgive me for making it fun then." I said.
***Jerry***
Her den was dark oak paneling and wood furniture inter mediated by a double picture window, a deep green rug, a red desk blotter set, a high backed executive desk chair, and two low backed coordinated pieces in front of the L-Model executive office desk. There where many law books and manuals, and general curriculum books lining the shelves, and there was the old slate grey filing cabinet.
She pulled my file out of the cabinet, and my stomach trimmered, she made an entry then spoke. " Jerry you are released today. Tomorrow I will have your transport arrangements organized and have this officiated. " "May I speak?" I timidly asked, she smiled "Of course you may, Jerry." I continued, telling her about my plan to go to the local school. "Would I be able to stay here a while till I get my self set up?"
"It is somewhat unprecedented but I can serve as a half way point. But you will not be permitted to interfere with the others. You are a free-man, things change. If you feel the need to talk with me about anything that concerns them you must ask to conference in the den. You may have general conversation but you may not advise them. It would be a professional courtesy. I will have the funds allotted for your travel and start up allotment converted to you tomorrow afternoon. You can apply it to the school you choose." And she blushed at me, apologizing for still giving orders.
Then she went to a locked cabinet in the wall and handed me a small jar of ointment, and sat back down.
" You are no longer in reformation, your fate is no longer decided by anyone else. And your scars are your choice."
She shook my hand and we went into the dinning room together.
D and G kneel and stand and Mistress...I mean Carol announces my parole, and as a free-man they where to kneel to me when I enter a room where they are an no other time.
And we ate, I was a guest and when I did settle to sleep I intended to get started in the morning, learning what being free for myself was gonna be about.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Kehshathria Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kehshathria Chapter Twenty-Nine
*** Jerry***
While G went upstairs to clean up and dress, D and MsC went back to the kitchen, I could smell that Popcorn was in the works. I stole a moment to grab a smoke in my car.
My brain was tired, my emotions hurt. Sitting before me was the realisation that George was not my friend, but I somehow I still cared about him. I still counted our times together as the good ole days. But I also realised that those days where stolen by him, or worse. I just didn't know what I was giving away. I somehow let George go. I started making plans for when I was released. I didn't want to be shipped back to my hometown. I didn't want to go back to my father fresh from prison still needing a job, still needing a diploma, still not much removed from messing around with ...'that george guy' .
In fact the more I thought of it the more ashamed I became of going home. And I made a goal this when I am ready. All I want is to write a letter to my parents so they wont worry that I am still screwing up. There was a very nice college about 30 miles away from here that takes boarders, and I'd be able to get my science degree there. I am 19 now, by next year, I could be finished, if I worked twice as hard. And the degree would give me better rank and choice of military job placement.
But then if I haven't much time left to graduation, they might let me sign a student waver to put off my military service. Then I'll go and see about some kind of instructor work so I can go straight onto Science Professor after service. I will be 25. Sure my folks won't see me for another 5 years. But I have lost time to recover. And then George will have five years to get his shit straight. Maybe then I can see him, see who he is. But not right now.
I slowly gather my thoughts in and join George in the living room as 'the snail' rolled opening credits, and 'the girls' where still in the kitchen about to join us. We stood. we knelt, we sat, we watched and George looked intimidated and frustrated, but he was quiet.
See tonight's episode opened upon a salt and pepper haired gentleman, surround by his family at a picnic. Kids running around, a child identified as a cousin marched up to the man tugging along a younger boy identified as the man's son. " Uncle Frank, Josh doesn't believe me. I told him that you did time. You did didn't you?" The boy accused, proud that he won some measure of power. Frank took the boys to sit under a tree. " Bobby, It is not your place to tell secrets. But if you want to know about it. Yes, Josh I did serve time when I was 17. It was a long time ago, in 1949. I am convicted of robbery, and accessory to murder." The boys sat back stunned. Josh started to cry in confused shame. Uncle Frank continued. "Hey now. I didn't kill anyone, but if I was not there, the Old man would have lived.
I had a friend, Ruby. He was a tough guy, I was also tough it was a rough time. Jobs hard to come by, didn't much care about anything important. We where thugs, and one night as we where robbing a random house we where startled by an elderly couple. The woman was frightened and clung to her door frame with the telephone, while the old man took after Ruby with a bat down the hall. I was on the far end of the hall, the old lady was feet from me. I was stunned, I shakily set the stereo down and held my hands out. I wasn't going to rough up an old lady. I started to try to escape anyway and inch toward her, scurrying along the far wall. She let out a whimper, and I said I just want to get out of here. But the small sound from her mouth made the old man hesitate. He had landed a powerful blow to Ruby's right shoulder, and was rearing back to deliver a finishing touch, but he hesitated, and Ruby tackled him against the wall ,wrested the bat from the old man and drove a strike to his chest.
The lady shrieked and ran to her man as we bolted down the stairs and out the door. We made it home, and hide for three days. But the woman remembered my face well. And they came for us. Oh boy," the man laughed as another cousin settled into the shade of the tree.
"Master Peter Gregg, when you are capable of speaking, are the first and last words out of your face. " Announced a raven haired man of 29 years as we where delivered to his front door, which was at the end of a long hall. Ruby sneered and we both where punched in the stomachs and then pounded down to the floor with a blow between our shoulders. " That is the position you will assume until I deem you worthy enough to stand. And trust me boys are are far from worthy.
Welcome to hell. " The man backed up to look over our files. He didn't even know what we where in for yet, and boy neither did we. Ruby kicked in his foot and pushed a lunge tackle at the man, who clotheslined him and picked him up by his throat and chin. "Ruby, is it? You killed that old man, you son of a bitch. I don't think that was very nice. And you are attacking your Reformer. I don't think that is very smart, Ruby. See, you need to remember that I am authorised to use lethal force should I feel threatened. Ruby should I? Feel threatened?" And he tensed his grip, milking the color from Ruby's face. "master peter g'g regg no threat mas-ssssttt ptter Gg....uhg" As the man tossed him down, and told him to get back in place next to me.
And Master Gregg spent the next month running us, drilling us, we hardly got sleep. We paid day in and day out for the life of the old man. One day we where scrubbing the third floor with a bucket and tooth brushes, it was master's chamber. He had us drag sleeping bags up there, said we weren't worthy of bedrooms yet. We heard his summoning bell chime this meant that we had 20 seconds to crawl down to him, or it was 20 lashes and 10 more for each second after.
We thudded simultaneously on our hands and knees at the foot of the front stairs, where Master Gregg had just invited a Girl Scout child into the foyer. Our heads where especially ashamed, palmed planted into the floor. He started speaking.
" As I was telling you Miss, I knew two persons who would be very interested in your story. Would you do them the honer?" The young girl wide eyes took in the sight of us, and stared up into the face of Master Gregg with shock. He smiled at her and stood with his arms crossed and motioned with a hand for her to address us. She became a bit prouder, and adjusted her merit ribbon infested brown sash.
"Our local troop has heard about the devastation of the Jenkins Couple of Fairmount Abbey. A charity chain was started in their local chapter 889 because after the Old man Died of heart attack while fending off two burglars. With him dead, Mrs Jenkins is about to lose the mortgage on her house. And there is no where for her to go and be able to support herself without his income. So the troop decided to do a charity drive to see if we could gather enough in money donations and donations of good saleable items, that we might reach our goal of setting Mrs Jenkins up for life. We estimate that we need at least 60 to 100,000 dollars. The idea went viral and all the troops in the tri-state area that I know of are participating. I am with troop 335 and that is what I am doing now. Going door to door, giving out flyers, and seeking help. The ladies at the axillary are organising raffles and social events to honer the drive if anyone is interested the number is on the flyer." and she nervously curtsied and stepped back, gazing up at Master Gregg.
He winked her her then addressed us. "Isn't that interesting boys? Are either one of you desiring to make donations to this cause?" And it was at the point that I cracked, children, I suddenly felt every emotion I ever knew of guilt for my life. I realised the consequences for my stupidity where more than I could bear and I dropped prostrate on the floor weeping. Ruby wobbled stoically and drew his shoulders tight and flat, grunting ' I thought I was donating already.' Master Gregg sneered at him, muttering 'indeed you are, and that severely.' but the bent himself down and laid his hand on my shoulder softly. "Frank, you are worthy to chose a room and to stand. But first I want you to give this young lady a good donation of anything you see fit in my house. And you might as well fill her cart up and help her carry it down to the axillary, I am going to need some time alone with your friend. You my rise, Frank."
And so I did, and serving time when a whole lot smoother for me than Ruby. And I learned a valuable lesson about the friends you choose, and the friends you keep. "
..... and the television faded to black and we all retired for the night.
*** Jerry***
While G went upstairs to clean up and dress, D and MsC went back to the kitchen, I could smell that Popcorn was in the works. I stole a moment to grab a smoke in my car.
My brain was tired, my emotions hurt. Sitting before me was the realisation that George was not my friend, but I somehow I still cared about him. I still counted our times together as the good ole days. But I also realised that those days where stolen by him, or worse. I just didn't know what I was giving away. I somehow let George go. I started making plans for when I was released. I didn't want to be shipped back to my hometown. I didn't want to go back to my father fresh from prison still needing a job, still needing a diploma, still not much removed from messing around with ...'that george guy' .
In fact the more I thought of it the more ashamed I became of going home. And I made a goal this when I am ready. All I want is to write a letter to my parents so they wont worry that I am still screwing up. There was a very nice college about 30 miles away from here that takes boarders, and I'd be able to get my science degree there. I am 19 now, by next year, I could be finished, if I worked twice as hard. And the degree would give me better rank and choice of military job placement.
But then if I haven't much time left to graduation, they might let me sign a student waver to put off my military service. Then I'll go and see about some kind of instructor work so I can go straight onto Science Professor after service. I will be 25. Sure my folks won't see me for another 5 years. But I have lost time to recover. And then George will have five years to get his shit straight. Maybe then I can see him, see who he is. But not right now.
I slowly gather my thoughts in and join George in the living room as 'the snail' rolled opening credits, and 'the girls' where still in the kitchen about to join us. We stood. we knelt, we sat, we watched and George looked intimidated and frustrated, but he was quiet.
See tonight's episode opened upon a salt and pepper haired gentleman, surround by his family at a picnic. Kids running around, a child identified as a cousin marched up to the man tugging along a younger boy identified as the man's son. " Uncle Frank, Josh doesn't believe me. I told him that you did time. You did didn't you?" The boy accused, proud that he won some measure of power. Frank took the boys to sit under a tree. " Bobby, It is not your place to tell secrets. But if you want to know about it. Yes, Josh I did serve time when I was 17. It was a long time ago, in 1949. I am convicted of robbery, and accessory to murder." The boys sat back stunned. Josh started to cry in confused shame. Uncle Frank continued. "Hey now. I didn't kill anyone, but if I was not there, the Old man would have lived.
I had a friend, Ruby. He was a tough guy, I was also tough it was a rough time. Jobs hard to come by, didn't much care about anything important. We where thugs, and one night as we where robbing a random house we where startled by an elderly couple. The woman was frightened and clung to her door frame with the telephone, while the old man took after Ruby with a bat down the hall. I was on the far end of the hall, the old lady was feet from me. I was stunned, I shakily set the stereo down and held my hands out. I wasn't going to rough up an old lady. I started to try to escape anyway and inch toward her, scurrying along the far wall. She let out a whimper, and I said I just want to get out of here. But the small sound from her mouth made the old man hesitate. He had landed a powerful blow to Ruby's right shoulder, and was rearing back to deliver a finishing touch, but he hesitated, and Ruby tackled him against the wall ,wrested the bat from the old man and drove a strike to his chest.
The lady shrieked and ran to her man as we bolted down the stairs and out the door. We made it home, and hide for three days. But the woman remembered my face well. And they came for us. Oh boy," the man laughed as another cousin settled into the shade of the tree.
"Master Peter Gregg, when you are capable of speaking, are the first and last words out of your face. " Announced a raven haired man of 29 years as we where delivered to his front door, which was at the end of a long hall. Ruby sneered and we both where punched in the stomachs and then pounded down to the floor with a blow between our shoulders. " That is the position you will assume until I deem you worthy enough to stand. And trust me boys are are far from worthy.
Welcome to hell. " The man backed up to look over our files. He didn't even know what we where in for yet, and boy neither did we. Ruby kicked in his foot and pushed a lunge tackle at the man, who clotheslined him and picked him up by his throat and chin. "Ruby, is it? You killed that old man, you son of a bitch. I don't think that was very nice. And you are attacking your Reformer. I don't think that is very smart, Ruby. See, you need to remember that I am authorised to use lethal force should I feel threatened. Ruby should I? Feel threatened?" And he tensed his grip, milking the color from Ruby's face. "master peter g'g regg no threat mas-ssssttt ptter Gg....uhg" As the man tossed him down, and told him to get back in place next to me.
And Master Gregg spent the next month running us, drilling us, we hardly got sleep. We paid day in and day out for the life of the old man. One day we where scrubbing the third floor with a bucket and tooth brushes, it was master's chamber. He had us drag sleeping bags up there, said we weren't worthy of bedrooms yet. We heard his summoning bell chime this meant that we had 20 seconds to crawl down to him, or it was 20 lashes and 10 more for each second after.
We thudded simultaneously on our hands and knees at the foot of the front stairs, where Master Gregg had just invited a Girl Scout child into the foyer. Our heads where especially ashamed, palmed planted into the floor. He started speaking.
" As I was telling you Miss, I knew two persons who would be very interested in your story. Would you do them the honer?" The young girl wide eyes took in the sight of us, and stared up into the face of Master Gregg with shock. He smiled at her and stood with his arms crossed and motioned with a hand for her to address us. She became a bit prouder, and adjusted her merit ribbon infested brown sash.
"Our local troop has heard about the devastation of the Jenkins Couple of Fairmount Abbey. A charity chain was started in their local chapter 889 because after the Old man Died of heart attack while fending off two burglars. With him dead, Mrs Jenkins is about to lose the mortgage on her house. And there is no where for her to go and be able to support herself without his income. So the troop decided to do a charity drive to see if we could gather enough in money donations and donations of good saleable items, that we might reach our goal of setting Mrs Jenkins up for life. We estimate that we need at least 60 to 100,000 dollars. The idea went viral and all the troops in the tri-state area that I know of are participating. I am with troop 335 and that is what I am doing now. Going door to door, giving out flyers, and seeking help. The ladies at the axillary are organising raffles and social events to honer the drive if anyone is interested the number is on the flyer." and she nervously curtsied and stepped back, gazing up at Master Gregg.
He winked her her then addressed us. "Isn't that interesting boys? Are either one of you desiring to make donations to this cause?" And it was at the point that I cracked, children, I suddenly felt every emotion I ever knew of guilt for my life. I realised the consequences for my stupidity where more than I could bear and I dropped prostrate on the floor weeping. Ruby wobbled stoically and drew his shoulders tight and flat, grunting ' I thought I was donating already.' Master Gregg sneered at him, muttering 'indeed you are, and that severely.' but the bent himself down and laid his hand on my shoulder softly. "Frank, you are worthy to chose a room and to stand. But first I want you to give this young lady a good donation of anything you see fit in my house. And you might as well fill her cart up and help her carry it down to the axillary, I am going to need some time alone with your friend. You my rise, Frank."
And so I did, and serving time when a whole lot smoother for me than Ruby. And I learned a valuable lesson about the friends you choose, and the friends you keep. "
..... and the television faded to black and we all retired for the night.
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