Friday, December 18, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Eight

Here I am, in Calgary, AB visiting my dad. I just thought I'd share a few haiku with you all that I wrote on the bus on the way here.

Blue helicopter
Sitting in a wheat field
Waiting for clearance.

Stops along the way
Hardly worth my mentioning
Boring bus depots.

Clouds veiling sun
Creating rainbowed sun dogs
Over snowy land.

Same destination
Two paths, one made much too long
Time more than doubled.

Music keeping me
From losing my sanity
Thank you Mstrkrft.

Blueberry bagels
Hickory smoked beef jerky
Orange and banana.

Fog making its way
Across the lands and highways
Creeping us all out.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Seven

Poetic justice
Unable to be upheld
No rhyme or reason.

Building a rainbow
Laying the bricks one by one
Filling up the sky.

Pizza in a cup
Filling my mouth with gladness
Pepperoni love.

Lakeside bonfire
Seen from across the waters
Longing for the warmth.

Big school of fish
Multitude of bright colors
Swim along swiftly.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Six

As I sat in my office, gazing out the window, I saw the city sprawled out below me, how the river seemed to have cut through it, long ago, as if a ruler had measured out precisely where the river would lie and which way it would run. I imagined how it must be, to sit in an office of a smaller building in the core of downtown, how your only view would be the next building over, and how if I had that office for too long, I would probably draw a picture on the building just outside my window, so that I could have a view, of some kind. Then every once in a while I'd scrub it off and draw a new one, just for the sake of variety. Either that or I would imagine how it is to be a guy with an office at the edge of downtown, where it didn't matter how high up your office was because you'd still have a view of the river and the rest of the city.

At that moment, I saw a curious thing. A mother had been walking with her child down the pathway along the river. The child had a red balloon in ...her, hand but it was not tied to her wrist as it should have been. How did I know that? It was because the red balloon slipped from her grasp and started to float towards the sky. I could remember when that first happened to me when I was her age, and a part of me was sad for that little girl, but then the adult part of me realized there was work needing to be done and I couldn't feel sorry for every little child that lost a balloon.

It was at that time when I noticed the particular path in which the balloon seemed to be on, which was leading right to my office window. Sure enough, before too long, the red balloon hit my window with a soft 'poom' and then slowly made it's way up along the rest of the building, as if it were guided by an invisible hand. Whether it made it's way over the roof without popping and continued to sail through the skies, or it got caught under the ledge of the roof and eventually popped or just got stuck there, I don't know. That's when it struck me! ..Er.. an idea, not the balloon. This was going straight to the top! ...My idea, as well as the balloon. I could see the promotion now!

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Five

Stephanie awoke. The alarm hadn't woken her, for there was still another two minutes before it would go off. Was it her body anticipating the alarm, or had there been a noise outside? It was still dark out, but then again at this time of year, it took longer for the sun to rise. Hmm. She felt tired, and therefore did not want to check the time, nor did she. She turned over onto her left side, found a comfortable place on the pillow, and tried to once again attain sleep.

Had she been dreaming? She didn't think so, but remembered the professor saying that one does not always remember one's dreams. If that was the case, then she just didn't remember what her dream was. Stephanie thought about the last time she had a dream, in the hopes that she would quickly fall asleep. The last dream she remembered having involved her friend Tim and Samantha... something about them fighting and Stephanie was trying to break it up but she couldn't speak because her mouth was sewn shut.

"... -a smile on his face, the day that you left this place! Welcome home!" Rang out from her radio, it was her alarm going off. Just when she thought she could get some sleep and perhaps let the day carry on without her. Stephanie opened her eyes, stretched, and made her brain tell her arms to throw off the covers so that she could get out of bed. The message must have gotten lost on its way to her arms because no action was produced. She thought maybe she'd get her legs to do the work, to swing out of bed and make their way to the door. This also did not happen. Had she suddenly become paralysed? She had stretched, and was able to put her arms back underneath the covers... what happened between then and now?

As the music played on, Stephanie realized that yes, she did have a life to get to, yes it would hurt her marks if she missed her classes today, and in order to accomplish all that, she had to get her body to cooperate with her brain. With what seemed to be great effort, she finally got her left arm to move towards the top of the blanket and put it up and off of her. She then got her right arm to finish what the left arm started. Now for her legs to do her job. Stephanie propped herself up on her elbows, and pushed herself up into a sitting position. While she put her body into submission, her mind worked on waking itself from a state of sleep, into a state of ...well at least semi-consciousness.

Finally Stephanie got her legs to move from under the covers, the warmth of that soft and inviting cocoon, into the less warm and less inviting world. She made her way to the door, turned the handle, and headed towards the bathroom. What she needed was a nice cold shower to get herself fully awake and functioning. Only, make the water not so cold... a little warmer... a little warmer... yeah, that's it. Don't want to wake up in too big of a hurry, leave that job for the coffee she'd make. Was there time for coffee? Yes, her first class didn't start until 9:30 today, so that left at least an hour to get ready for school. Ugh, thought Stephanie, why couldn't the weekend be three days long?

Friday, November 6, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Four

It was good to see the sun rise again, it has been too long since anyone had seen it last. Three years, five months, three weeks, two days, five hours, and forty-five minutes. We don't know why the sun stopped rising in the first place but ever since the first day it didn't rise, there have been those of us who have been waiting for it to rise again. At first there were only a few thousand of us who knew there was something wrong, right away. On the third day the news was confirmed worldwide that the sun was not rising, that there was something wrong. By that time we had already been looking into several theories as to why the sun was not rising. We could see the sun, so why wasn't the earth getting any of its light?

At first we thought something was blocking the sun's light from the earth, but it only took two hours to find out that no, there was nothing blocking the sun's light. Nothing visible by any tools found on earth. We then thought it had something to do with the earth's orbit, maybe it had gone off course. Then the question came up: why now? Why did the earth come off it's orbit so suddenly? Wouldn't it be a gradual action, that days would get shorter and shorter over a long period of time? Also, how would the earth get off it's orbit in the first place? What change was there in space that could have caused the earth to go off its orbit? Scientists all over the world, those who were more informed, took to inspecting the space around the earth, around other planets, at other planets and their orbits (had any others changed their orbit?), at the moon (was earth any closer or further from the moon?), calculating distances between planets to see if they had changed, and checking if the earth's axis had changed at all. We looked over all these things from the earliest recordings until Day One, or Eclipse Day One to some of us. My team was in charge of checking the distances between the other planets and the sun, and if any of the planets were getting sunlight.

At the same time of all this research, there was a team set up to figure out what we would do, how long we would last, and if there was a way around the lack of sunlight. Could an artificial sun be considered? Was it possible? How quickly could green houses be set up to preserve the earth's plant life? What could be done about the forests, jungles, mountains and plains? By the second day, Day Two, it was clear that there were many questions needing answers, and there were very few answers, or at least none that were halfway feasible. One part of me really wanted to be involved with coming up to solutions, and the other part really didn't. On the one hand, I found it much more important to come up with a solution rather than look at the cause, but on the other hand, I didn't want to have to take responsibility for any of the bad ideas ("solutions") that were being presented.

:Pause Transmision:

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Three

Twilight settles over me, as the smouldering candlewick of dusk slowing goes cold.
As I lie upon this hilltop, thinking of what I am meant to be, I listen to the crickets, the frogs, and the rest of the nightlife as they come into action.
Softly and steadily a cool breeze passes over me, causing the trees to dance to and fro, their leaves singing their simple melody.
Looking up at the stars I search out for the constellations I learned at school. As I find some but not others, I begin to make some of my own. Their stories are like those of the ancient gods of Greece and of Rome.
Fireflies have now come out to play, flying about. I watch as their little lights momentarily overlap the stars. In my mind I picture them going to their little parties, drinking tea and eating their sweets.
That’s when I hear a faint rustling. Barely discernable from that of the leaves in the trees, these are the leaves on the ground being trampled underfoot. I sit up, quickly.
Pockets of thunder rumble in the distance, making it harder to hear who or what is coming towards me, or if they are coming towards me at all. Can I reach my backpack in time, to get my flashlight? I say a silent prayer and try not to assume the worst. I get a rush of adrenaline as I try to see what’s in the bush in front of me, straining my ears to hear what’s about to meet me. I wasn’t sure which was more prominent in these woods, bears or cougars, but I was sure I did not want to meet up with either.
Suddenly a sound! A voice calling out! “Hey!” Who could be out here? Could it be a psycho killer hunting poor unsuspecting travels, waiting for them to drop their guard, for the perfect time to strike? I sprang to my feet ready to either fight or fly. Again the voice called out “Hey Dave, did you find the marshmallows?!” What?! They know my name? How did they know... -Right then the person cleared the bushes, it was Dave! Not some crazy lunatic who’s out to get me, but just plain ol’ Dave. I relaxed.
“Sorry” I said to Dave, “I was distracted by the beauty of the stars. I guess I forgot what brought me here in the first place”.“Hey, no problem big guy, I’m just anxious to make some smores!” Dave replied. “And hey, what was with that crazy ninja kung fu pose?” He asked with a big grin on his face. “You were all like ‘Waahh!’ ready to kill me with your death strike!” We laughed for a bit and I said, “Oh, I just thought you’d like to see something like that, thought it would make you laugh.” I said laughing, not wanting to reveal the truth. And so we grabbed the marshmallows, made some smores, and set off to find Dave, to make the Trifecta complete once more.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty Two

Sailing along the currents of the eastern sea, just miles out from the coast, I spoted him. As I looked through my scope, it seemed to me that his ship was in need of repair. If that was the case, why doesn't he come into the yard?

I sat down on the bench behind me, it over-looked the port and the western coast of Reikhord, in the eastern sea. It was in the middle of May, just 3 hours before sun rise. I had been out for my daily walk in the country side beyond Reikhord, thinking about all the events of my life in the last 20 years, and where my life was headed now. I had been living a life full of, what I thought was, purpose, but it was only now that I found my true path.

I had been a scrapper from the age of 5 until 10, a fighter from 11-16, a combatant from 17-25, on my way to becoming a warrior, but I could not carry on. After what I saw in the battle at Lightson, and when I found what I had found, I did not want to fight any longer. Now was a time for peace, now was the time to teach children, not to fight as I did, but to increase their knowledge. One book at a time, one subject at a time; the children of the next generations would become scholars.

Just under a year ago, 10 months, the army of Reikhord had been on the march, to a settlement just beyond Lightson. It was said there was a group of invaders encamped at that settlement, bringing up supplies, weaponry, and machinery for a rally against Reikhord that would be once and for all. Turned out it was a monestary, and the only thing being kept there were books. The monestary and everything and everyone in it was completely destroyed because of misinformation. That was when I decided that never again would I hold a sword, that never again would I fight in battle and that the only battles I would ever fight again were of wits. That the only weapon I would ever hold again was a book. I have become a protector of the mind, a preserver of knowledge. I am, a librarian.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty One

The first event happened upon the 12th of August, 1953, at 2pm in Colorado, 20 miles west of Walden, Jackson county. His name was Reese Piekson, from Wisconsin, Portage county. He had a wife and three daughters, he was a 43 year old, a geographer, and had been hiking throughout Colorado's Rocky Mountains. He had brought his chocolate lab with him to keep him company and for its nose.

The event in question happened during the second day of his hike. He was just getting into the more interesting territory, finding more and more to study, document, and illustrate. It was around 1:30 when he discovered the forked pathway, and about 1:40 when he chose the one to the left. At 1:55 he was just bringing out his compass to check up on his bearings when he saw that he had come upon a small town, just north of where he was heading. It was at that point that if he had decided not to investigate the town, none of this would have been reported, but for the want of a phone call home.

The town was neatly kept close together, but something was a little off.. the town seemed more like a cluster of buildings than a town, it didn't have a right feel to it. This was something he did not notice until he was twenty yards out of the town. He felt a certain lack of character, that the town lacked that "lived-in" feeling that one comes to expect of small towns, a nice lived-in look. Where the downtown would have been, Reese noticed that not one of the buildings had any sort of identification to them, except the post office and the grocery store. Even those buildings weren't named, they were just "Post Office" and "Groceries", and the town didn't appear to have any restaurant or convenience store of any kind.. That's when Reese noticed someone coming out of a house, one block east of the post office. Two people were leaving the house and.. it seemed they were dressed in some kind of one piece suit, like how a bee keeper would dress but instead of a mesh shield around the face, it was plastic.

The two people were carrying little black and silver boxes, about the size of a lunch box, and were headed for the post office. Reese thought of going up to them but was a little wary. That's when he noticed that he hadn't seen anyone else in the town. There was no other sign of life. He suddenly became very aware of his situation and worried that he may have come across a contaminated area. He sniffed the air, but it didn't smell any different. He looked around at the plant life, but it did not look to be affected. He listened for other signs of life and that's when he noticed that there wasn't any. No insects, no birds, no animals of any sort, only his ..! Cocoa! His lab was nowhere to be seen, Reese hadn't even noticed when Cocoa had gone missing. He thought of calling for the dog, but didn't want to alert the two men who had gone inside the post office, just in case he wound up in some kind of trouble. It would be best just to find Cocoa and leave.

Suddenly he heard growling behind him. Reese whirled around expecting to see a wolf or coyote, but instead he found Cocoa, who was growling at him! Cocoa looked rabid and Reese, believing he only had an instant, took off at full speed into town. He opened the first door he came to and shut the door quickly behind him. This noise and the sound of Cocoa's rough barking alerted the two men who had gone inside the mail box. They had stepped out of the building to see what the commotion was about, and one of them was carrying a shotgun. Cocoa spun around to face them, lunged and was quickly upon the first man, the one without the gun. He frantically tried to get away from the dog, tried to get Cocoa off himself, but it was too late. Cocoa had torn into the fabric and had started ripping at the man's arms and torso. With that man down Cocoa turned on the other man, lunging at his throat.

He had just gotten off a shot when Cocoa had bit him on the shoulder, the shot getting Cocoa in her left hind leg. It seemed the injury just seemed to aggravate Cocoa even more, and she was tearing into the man's neck, but he was able to get off one last shot before he died, killing the dog. It had all happened so fast that Reese hadn't time to think of what to do. It seemed to him that both men and his Cocoa had died before he had a chance to react. Afraid to go over to the scene, he looked around him, searching the house for a phone.

There didn't seem to be much of anything in the house, no furniture, no picture hanging on the walls, nothing in any of the drawers, and no sign of a phone. He found the house had a side door, and exited through there, hoping to avoid the two dead men and his dog, afraid of what might happen if.. He didn't want to think about it. How had Cocoa become like that? He hadn't heard that she had been attacked by a rabid coyote or anything of that sort, it was like she had suddenly transformed into a rabid beast. He took a round about way of getting to the house where the two men had originally come out of, thinking if anything, that's where a phone, or something useful, would be.

When Reese got to the front door, he noticed through the window that this house had furniture. He turned the doorknob and went in.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Season Two Episode Twenty

The Screaming Adventures of Danika (dan-ih-ka) the Mighty:

Our story starts not at the beginning but during a battle most important to the kingdom of Oxany. You see, the Oxian people were on the verge of annihilation and unless they had a mighty warrior to save them from that brink, they would become only a story, and that story, if not retold to each generation, would be lost. Alas, they did not know this was to be their fate no matter what, but when such a thing as hope still exists, such things as being forgotten are cast into a dimmer light.

The Oxian people and their king sent out word for Danika to come to their aid, hoping word would reach him in time. When the messenger at last found the inn where Danika had stayed the night, in the town of Brovensty, he relayed this message: "To Danika the Mighty, from the people of Oxany and their king: 'Danika, we urgently-' " The messenger cut himself short for Danika had winced now for the second time, so he inquired "Is there something wrong, sir?" "Ah, yes there is boy. You pronounce my name as if you were a little girl shrieking at a mouse! It is not "Dan-eek-ah" it is "Dan-ih-ka". Get it straight now and relay the rest of the message. Then after you have done so you must point me in the direction of the dog who so pronounces my name incorrectly and I will slay him like the pig he is!" Danika said, with a mean looking grin. "Aye sir, I will sir, but first this urgent message from the Oxians and their king!" replied the messenger, now with a bit of nervousness.

The message is this: (being careful to get his name right this time) " 'Danika we urgently request your assistance in battle! Your skill with a blade is known well to us and we would ask that you use that skill to keep us from being lost forever! We're over-run, we're over-run and we believe your presence will turn the tide. Pick up your sword and come to our aid!' As for the mispronunciation of your name, I must confess that I do not know how it originated, but many people have heard it as Da-"

"Don't even SAY IT!" Danika screamed, pointing his finger! The messenger stood, now trembling. "S-s-sir, i-it is only that I mean to say that I cannot possibly come to point out any one person who would come to say your name incorrectly, and certainly not on purpose, it is the only way in which we have heard it said, we mean no harm or mockery by it! P-please, you have to believe me, we all put you in high esteem! We have heard of your deeds and it brings a song of hope to our lips! Just the mere thought of-"

"Yes, yes, let us to Oxany, win the battle and then we shall hunt down the dog who was so ill advised as to mispronounce my name! Now let me get my things, horse up, and we'll be off." With that the two set out on their journey to Oxany, to win a battle and to set things right.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Season Two Episode Nineteen

As I sit here, waiting for Dave, I can't help but wonder what I would wish for if I had a magic geni. And even if I knew what I would wish for, how could I phrase the wish so there was no mistaking what I wanted, and that I wouldn't get tricked somehow.

For instance, if I wished for the ability of flight, how could I be certain I would not turn into a bird or insect or airplane or some such? And how would I know how long it would last for? Would it be a one time thing? Would it only last for a few seconds each time? You have to be very specific when it comes to genies.

I think flight would be one of my wishes.. like Nathan Petrelli in Heroes. Oh! He arived, so this is where it ends. Until next time!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Season Two Episode Eighteen

Let me bring y'all back to a simpler time and strawberry pie, cotton pajamas that covered you from head to toe with a flap for your fanny, to a time when it was called your "fanny", to when all there was to a fishing rod was a stick, a string and a hook, to a life filled with days matching those of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.

"What?! The book deal fell through!?! Fine, that's it! I'm outta here!."

And that's the last anyone ever heard of Old Man Sedgwinn. As for me, I'm still serving ice cream down at the stand half a block from the beach, across from Macey's. Stop buy and I'll tell you a story about how Bary and Tom solved the mystery of the rented Honda.

Broken into space
Past the atmosphere of Earth
Shuttle seven to Mars.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Season Two Episode Seventeen

I went for a bit of an excursion this evening, I took my bicycle out to see where the road ended. It was an interesting venture as I had not done so before, and now that I know where it goes.. will I embark upon it once again? That is quite possible, as I very much enjoyed the views, the air, the sounds, and the over-all journey. Would I suggest it to others, for their own pleasure in it? Perhaps not as it was quite secluded and peaceful and were it to become frequented by many travelers, it may not be so for much longer. That is not necessarily the case, as there are many places in this city (and outside of it) that are welcome to bicyclists.

At more than one point in my journey, I found myself wondering how long ago I had reached city limits, or if I had even yet to reach them. No matter where I was finding myself, a little while into my journey I came across a rabbit. I did not see it for long, as it was quite insistent on its escape, but I did manage to get a good look at it. Not long after seeing the rabbit I saw a doe. She had heard the sounds of my bicycle and leapt from her place in the bushes that lay along the road. At this, I stopped my bicycle and watched her as she made her way further into the field by bounds and leaps. As I was on the top of a hill at this point, I got my bicycle going down hill, I peddled with all I could to get as much speed as possible. It was quite exhilarating to reach the extent of my speeding abilities and when my speed came to a climax I stopped peddling and coasted for as long as my speed and the road would carry me.

There had been houses scattered here and there along the road, which seemed to go on for miles, but alas, I finally came to the end of it. There was no left or right, only grass and fence and field. The only choice now was to turn around and go back home, so that is what I did. If there is a next time for this, I shall have to remember to bring along my camera, as the sights are quite nice, for that part of town. Now I will bid you adieu and good night.

Creating fortune
Two halves coming together
Beauty in itself.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Season Two Episode Sixteen

As the rain pitter-patter's down upon my window, it creates a myriad of drops and streaks across the pane. The clouds have a gloom to them, but nothing too sinister. In the distance, between the houses out back, I can see the edge of a cloud, and light is there. The rainclouds are have come to the end of their water supply and the wind blows them gently away. There could be sunshine this evening, but even if there is not, tomorrow will most certainly be sunny.

I can smell the bacon cooking and know that Nana is preparing her famous brunch: hash browns, eggs, bacon, steamed carrots and broccoli, toast, jams, honey, peach, grapes, strawberries, raspberries, and an assortment of nuts. The children always eat whatever is prepared by Nana on a Sunday brunch, even the steamed vegetables.

I can hear thunder rumbling in the distance as the storm heads west. It had been a while since we've had a decent rain, so this storm, even though it was a storm, was most welcome. I bet that old Mr. Hedgwinn was out fishing. He always said rain was the best time to fish, and if that was the case, what better time than during a storm? He would most likely be getting the brunt of the storm now, since the lake was six miles west of town. He would be very glad for it and would be most enjoying this storm.

Mrs. Ignwhitt would be sitting out in her green house, listening as the last of the rain hit the glass walls and ceiling. She always loves to watch a storm. Listen to the thunder roll and clap, watch the lightning get thrown about. Her favorite time of year is spring and summer, when everything grows and blossoms.

As for my family; Gwenn, the youngest, is always in awe of the storm, it's power and beauty, Peter likes the rain and the thunder, but not the lightning, Heather likes the rain but not any of the rest of it, including the grey clouds (she says they're a sad necessity), and Simon hates it all as he would much rather be outside with his mates playing football or cricket. As for Stacey, my wife, she loves every minute of it and often paints during a storm. She feels she gets her best work done during a rainy morning or afternoon.

Tonight, I have my meeting with T.H.E.M. and I quite think we will run into a success or two, providing Mr. Six has good news, which I do not doubt he will as his last business trip could have been nothing but profitable.

Ah, brunch is served, so I must get to it. Sincerely, Mr. Black.

Sneaky sidelong glance
Of intrigue and mystery
Quick misdirection.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Season Two Episode Fifteen

It was a tire, suspended in the air by a well-worn yellow rope. This rope was long, over 7 feet, and was attatched to a big oak tree, which sat upon a bit of a cliff-side, 10 feet from the edge. The cliff was about 12 feet down and at the bottom was a lake. This lake put the tire swing at a prime location, for since the lake was well known, the tire swing was well known.

For years, many children have put on a brave face, if not the rest of their body, and would march right up to that tire swing to continue a tradition that had been unknowingly passed down from generation to generation. As long as lake has been here, that cliff has been here, and for most of that time the tree has been here. When the tree wasn't there, the children would run and jump off the cliff, just like lemmings. It wasn't until Mr. McBriddie came across the lake, on his way from one neighbor to another, that he spotted the tree.

The oak wasn't yet 20 feet, but Mr. McBriddie thought that was high enough for a rope to be tied on. You see, the tire hadn't made it's appearance until 7 years later when little Bethany McBriddie came along. She couldn't quite get a good grip, either with her hands or her feet, of the rope. And so it the idea of a tire swing came into Mr. McBriddie's head, so that little Bethany could join in the fun.

Since that day, both the rope and the tire have been replaced several times, either because someone was too hard on one or the other, or because either one was just too old. Never-the-less, many people have said that it was this tire swing that was the first act of charity performed by Bethany McBriddie, but this is not correct, for it was her father, Mr. McBriddie, who both came up with and constructed the tire swing. Be that as it may, Bethany had been accredited the idea for the tire swing for so long, that she began to believe it as fact. When in fact, Bethany was only 10 years old at the time and would not have possess the can-do or know-how to construct a tire swing. This leaves her first charitable act to have come 6 years later when she started The Volunteer Bakery Society For Young Women.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Season Two Episode Fourteen

He's a cowboy. The six gun at his side contains only one bullet, that is all that he needs. The open country lies before him; mountains built up at his right, prairie fields laid out to his left. His steed remains faithful and proving, helping him get out of a tight spot. The hat upon his head was handed down to him from his pa, saying it's been in the family for generations. That, and the rifle.

He's a cowboy. When he heads into town, his face can't help but wear a sneer, thinking about the kinds of folk that reside there. To his opinion, towns tend to muddle one's vision, conveniences aside. Besides, he would say a life based on conveniences makes one lazy and dulls the wits. A hushing wind precedes him as he enters the town's saloon. He's not looking for a fight, but he'll find one anyway. Ordering a water doesn't help either. The next round is on him, and then everybody sings.

He's a cowboy. Sleeping beneath the stars, a rock for his pillow, he can hear the coyote's cry. Leaving one eye open, he's ready for anything that might come his way. The fire's just enough to keep him warm and to have coals in the morning so the next fire, the one for breakfast, is quick to make up. Coffee and bacon, with some cheese and stale bread.

He's a cowboy. On all accounts he's an outlaw, which he takes pride in; a loner and a rambler, but he ain't the cheating kind. There's nothing up his sleeve. He'll lay down the law where it concerns him or when he comes upon a situation that he deems it necessary, otherwise he is the law. Riding his horse to his next destination, whichever direction that may be, in no particular hurry until he finds reason. Giddyup, giddyup hey!

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Season Two Episode Thirteen


Lightning flashed, lighting up the whole sky, lighting up the small room that served as a make-shift office. It was just typewriter, chair, desk, stack of paper, a lamp, and me, hunched over it all. I was going to need something to chew on or my brain would give out, and I couldn't let it do that when I was this close to getting the break through I needed. They say walnuts are good for the brain, maybe I'll get Ms. Torupkin to go out to the store and buy some walnuts. Maybe she could pick up a fish from the market too, those were good for the brain. Or maybe I could go out myself, get some fresh air in the ol' lungs.


There was more lightning, lasting a bit longer this time. Oh yes, it was raining. I couldn't very well ask Ms. Torupkin to go out in this terrible weather. Maybe there were walnuts in the pantry or cellar. And maybe there was still fish left in the cold room from... no, no that had been used up when I had the Henlink's over. Yes, that was good cod. I had caught it when my brother Gordon had come out from Kent, for one last chance to fish before returning to work (such a 'travail' as he would put it).

So then, what was I to do? The weather was terrible, which had made me get back to the typewriter in the first place, as this sort of weather is good for little else, for a man trapped in a small office in the corner of a small apartment in London. Ah yes, and what was London known for (besides rainy days)? Sardines! Sardine's were fish, and fish were good for the brain! Of course, I shall ring up Ms. Torupkin and she can bring me a plate of sardines.


After a short minute, Ms. Torupkin was at the door, knocking twice while opening the door at the same time. "You rang Mr. Stoate?"

"Yes, I did, thank you Ms. Torupkin. I hope I am not being a bother, I just have come upon a stump in my road, and need a bit of ..a lift over it. Something to invigorate my brain. I would have asked for some fresh air, but alas, this weather isn't giving up, is it?"

"No it doesn't look to be, does it sir?" remarked Ms. Torupkin. "It seems the first rains of winter are always as if the Almighty Himself opened up the clouds and poured all the water from his store houses right through 'em, right on top o'us."


Lightning reached across the sky, illuminating the whole of London and all that beyond it. "Yes, well the reason for my ringing," I continued. "Was to see if you would be a darling and see what there was for sardines in this apartment. I think they would help my thinking greatly. Hmm, and perhaps a finger or two of whisky, if you please. That would do nicely." Without another word Ms. Torupkin left the room, closing the door behind her, and set herself about filling out Mr. Stoate's request.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Season Two Episode Twelve

Twelve dozen clay jars, all different heights but all the same width, ranging from five feet to just one foot. They're all spread through-out the room, evenly filling it. Each is filled with a different liquid, and only one has what I need. There is a ring at the bottom of one of these jars, which I must have within an hour. How can I get to the ring, without emptying the jars of their contents (including leaving the jars in tact)?

I could try knocking on the jars, seeing if the tone is different, maybe the one with the ring will sound like it has a ring in it? This of course, would be a lot easier if each jar was the same height, then there would be a definite difference in tones. It would also help the situation if the jars had been filled with the same type of liquid, instead of each jar having a different liquid.

Is there a substance on earth that would cause the ring to rise from the bottom of the jar? If there was a liquid I could fill the room with, I'd just have to try and seal the door as best I can, the ring would rise to the top of the jar... but then that leaves me with the problem of getting to the ring without opening the door, thus letting the liquid escape the room and the ring to sink back to the bottom of whichever jar it currently occupies.

And here my brother tells me there's no use for scientific thought. I bet if I had been one of those scientific scholars, I'd have come up with a solution by now. It's a wonder I made it this far, but then again I have been sneaking into the lecture hall, it seems as though some of what I heard has sunk in, too bad they hadn't discussed this sort of situation, in even the slightest detail. The only thing I remember that could out right now is that metal corrodes when left in ... in what?! What was that name of that liquid? Was it a liquid? If only my memory would serve me more effectively. I hope she doesn't call off the wedding... at least before I can figure this out.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Season Two Episode Eleven

"First thing tomorrow I'm going to feed you to the emys!" cried Mrs. Potston, referring to the turtles in the pond out back. This wasn't the first time she threatened to feed someone to those turtles, especially when it came to Robert, but superstitious as people were, especially Robert, it was a threat he did not take lightly, even though it was one she made often. Robert was Mrs. Potston's stable boy and work hand for around the inn. Not that Repuria was anywhere close to any other town, but that a lot of farmers would come into town, and when any festivities took place, they would need a place to stay. At the moment Robert, who was 10, had been told prepare the stable, for when guests arrived, but a curious rock had caught his eye, which caused him to dawdle and Mrs. Potston to threaten the emys for his future.

Emys orbicularis, or rather, the European pond turtle, was thought of to be most dangerous. As a matter of fact they were not, as turtles go, or rather as far as animal goes, but tell that to the town's folk. You see, the people of Repuria were quite superstitious and prone to believe most anything, if referring to danger and if said in a very convincing manner. The Repurians lived up on a mountain, with not a town in sight for 145 miles in each and every way. As they were self-sustaining, they did not find need to go to any of those towns, except once a year for trade. The only outsider they saw on a regular basis was Ted Gilson, and that only because Ted lived in a house 73 miles east of Repuria.

Ted was a 57 year old miller who would visit Repuria once every two months (twice if a festival took place), to trade, and to deliver any exciting news. It was also Ted's job, so he saw it, to have fun with the superstitious lot that made up Respuria's population. It was he who said the turtles were quite dangerous, that he had seen them clean the meat off the bones of a bull in a matter of minutes. It had just so happened, luckily for Ted, that a bull's skull was found near a pond where some turtles favored, and so his tale was believed.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Season Two Episode Ten

Lost in the midst of battle, crying not for pain but for vengeance for those who had fallen. Call on the power of fire, call on until the tongue dries to the roof of my mouth. The dawn slowly brings forth the sun, drawing with it colors so beautiful, so breath taking, yet all that is lost to those who fight on. Reach toward the unfinished goal; to breach the gates of the enemy, to bring victory to those who are good. Fight for that which is worth keeping, safe that which if it were ever to become lost, would bring about nothing but pain and sorrow and emptiness and strife.

Fight on.

Strength turning to weakness, hope swaying in the wind. Flesh succumbing, threatening to give out. Press on past the burning, past the aching, past the desire for sleep, rest, and eternal slumber, falling to the ground. Swinging the sword again and again, using your muscles to their limits and then some. Know that you can still make it home, if only you persist, never giving up another chance to see her face once again. To hear her laugh, see her smile, watch her sleep, this is what I fight for. Freedom to love, freedom to work for one's self, freedom from self-empowering, self-pursuing, self-indulging rulers.

Fight on.

To give up is to give in to life forsaken, life under broken doctrines, life where slavery and hardship and burden are every day. Be the resistance, draw the line between good and evil and live only for the good. The fire. Don't let the candle of hope grow cold. The candle burns alone, but it guides us safely home. Fan the flame the guides us home. The buzzing. Tune out the buzzing of the wicked, the self-righteous, the mockers, the oppressors, and usurpers.

Fight on.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Season Two Episode Nine

Previously on Multipurpose Exposition:

No, you shut up!

And now, the exciting conclusion:

Oh yeah?! Take this!

Dead by Dawn

Tonight's twilight will be the last seen by our eyes, so if it seems so beautiful, kiss the beauty goodbye. Oh my little cornea, please say that you are no more, and ears please swear you did not hear this creaking in the cabin floor. I'll forgive my eyes for lovely lies, so certainly within my will. Please declare this piercing stare, so false, at a clock that's standing still.

Such pretty skin, give it to us. The sun won't rise, my spirit dies. All hope has withdrawn, so here I lay because either way I know we'll all be dead by dawn. Dead by dawn.

Arming shotgun shells, this rotting smell lingers on words that were said. Her body in pieces, my hand cut away. This ever-enchanting book of the dead. The sun won't rise, my spirit dies, all hope has withdrawn. So here I lay because either way I know we'll all be dead by dawn. A chainsaw can remove a limb or act as a replacement. Smell the gas as hours pass, contrary to my statement. The corpses wish to cover me with kisses, so just maybe I'll cover this cabin with their blood. Hail to the king, baby.

- Showbread (No Sir, Nihilism Is Not Practical, 2004)

Okay, well met.

Let's get a slurpee.

It is that time...

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Season Two Episode Eight

Today is April Fool's Day. A day to celebrate the wonders of all things the funny. A day for pranks, tom foolery, hi-jinks, mischievous acts, and general shenanigans. This works best in a classroom or office setting, as there are more people in a localized area, to pull pranks on.

Genius April Fool's Day acts can be, but are not limited to: taking a few select screws out of a chair, door, or desk so that when subject goes to use such items, said items will collapse. It is important, at that point, to shout out "April Fool's!" so that the subject knows they have been pranked. Leaving a note works too.

Another prank may be switching a working object with a broken object, or simply breaking the working object. I find, however, that switching objects is much more humorous because you can both laugh about it once you produce the working object, that way you avoid murderous revenge.

Oh, another one is giving the subject (or multiple subjects) one of those electric pens. Yeah, take all the pens from their belonging and replace said pens with electric pens so that they get a shock when they go to use them!

Oh yes, this reminds me. You know when someone puts crap in a bag and lights it on fire? Does that actually work? It just seems so cliche to me... other cliche pranks are, but not limited to: putting plastic wrap on the toilet (the key is to put it under the seat, for girls) oiling the doorknob (the device not the person... although that would be funny too), and pulling the chair out from under the subject.

Prank phone calls are a good classic to stick with. What you do is go through the phone book pretending to be a relative and reporting a death! But then... nowadays, with *69 and the like, you're more likely to get caught than say... calling and saying they've won a contest. You could also phone them pretending you still work at your old job and um... whatever that job may have been you could say there's a big sale on and they had to get down there today for it to apply. If you didn't work at a job where you sold stuff, you could then just pretend that you did (either sell stuff or that you had a job that you sold stuff). Imagination is needed for a prank call, if you don't have one don't attempt it. Or maybe you should because that would be extra funny.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Season Two Episode Seven

Captain's Log, date 31/03/09.

I came into an unusual situation today. I made plans to go out today, to check out an opportunity but first, breakfast. When I called for my butler, however, there was no answer. I called for the maid and again, no answer. I don't know what happened to either of them, but if I find out they've stolen away to some romantic get-away, they'll come home only to discover they've had a decrease in pay, and no cupcakes either.

Fear not, Captain's Log, for I do command knowledge of how to make breakfast. I couldn't remember where the bowls were, so I ate my cereal out of the box, by pouring in the milk... which turned out to be a little more messy than anticipated, but I made through it fine enough. I wasn't sure how long to microwave the bread for, but I thought 3 minutes was enough. It wasn't quite the same as what I'm used to, but such is the life one has to tolerate when one is "roughing it".

It turned out the the unknown where-abouts of my maid and butler was not the only surprise for the day. My driver was also gone, and my limo was no-where to be found. I had to resort to taking the bus. This proved rather difficult, as I did not know how to telephone the bus over to my house. I thought, it is a nice day so far, perhaps I'll take a bit of a stroll, and so I set off. Eventually I made it to a "bus stop", but the bus was no-where to be found. Luckily, there did happen to be a civilian standing at the "bus stop" and after a bit of prodding, finally gave me the time for which the next bus would arrive. Unfortunately I had to wait a few minutes and there was no suitable seating area. I mentioned this to the civilian, but she did not seem as upset about it as I was. I made a note of it and thought to bring it up at the next board meeting.

Finally the bus did arrive and I got on. The bus driver had the nerve to tell me that I must pay a fee, as if he didn't know who I was! I told him I had no coins on my person, that I was not some poor old woman with a change purse full of coins and buttons! He told me that I had to pay the 2 dollars or get off, so I got off, feeling quite out-raged and embarrassed, that I promptly stormed off in what I could only assume was the proper direction. I soon realised I was on my way back home, so home I went and decided I would telephone my secretary and have her pick me up instead.

I called for my butler to bring me the telephone, and remembered that he and the maid had gone missing, most likely on romantic get-away. I was not sure where the butler kept the telephone, but it proved not to be hard to find. I rang up the operator and told her to call the office for me. Apparently she was new to the job, for she did not know my office number, let alone its name and had to ask it of me. I forgave her this slight, as she was obviously new, and told her the name of my office. She dialed the number and put me through.

There was trouble completing the telephone call, and that was exactly what I was told by a prerecorded message. I hung up, called the operator again, and told her she had given me the wrong number. She read back the information she had found before, and I told her she was correct and perhaps we should try our luck again. She dialed the number again and put me through a second time. Again the prerecorded message played and again I phoned the operator. She said that the company must have changed the number or- That was when I recalled that James, the vice president, had mentioned something about making a few changes to the security. Yes, that must have been the problem! And so I waited for them to give me a ring or send over a driver. Yes, soon enough they would realise the error, that I had not received the memo, and all would be set aright.

That brings me to where we are now, dear Captain's Log. It has been nearly 10 minutes and there has not been a telephone call, nor has a driver been sent. There had been a while where I sat ready by the door, and then by the phone, but now I write to you, Captain's Log, whilst I wait. I really must end this for surely they'll try to telephone or the driver will arrive. Tah-tah!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Season Two Episode Six

A Long Walk Spoiled

Always trying to reach his goal,

To get that ball into the hole.

Swinging with that wooden club,

Hoping to miss those infernal shrubs.

In the water, all is lost;

Just don't give that iron a toss.

E-Mail To A Friend

If there ever was a day to travel, this would be it. I'm tellin' ya, get down to some island and relax for two months. By the time you get back, this'll have blown over and you can get your life back in order. Mikey and I will clean things up, Susanne will take care of the paper work, and I'll have Eddie patch it all together like only he can. Trust me, it'll all work out in the end. Just because Alex was a turn-coat, doesn't mean you have to pay for it in the long run. Oh, I know I don't have to say it, but it won't hurt to say it anyway. Stay away from the tables. This is a one time thing because you're a friend. Tell you what, I'll pick you up tomorrow, take you to the airport, and I won't even know which gate you take off from. Then I'll go get Mikey and straighten this whole thing out. Later.


Piecing together
All the clues I can manage
Find clear perspective.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Season Two Episode Five

"You sold me out! You sold me out! I thought we were friends but then you stab me in the back and sell me to The Man!" It sounded cliche, but it was true. My best friend and I were in cahoots, running a big scam. It was no ordinary scam, it was the kind of scam that would make anyone big and famous. As long as you didn't mind bending a law here, a rule there. But it wasn't breaking the law, it was bending the law, and we all know those are completely different things... until you get caught. And who would have thought that selling your former best friend out would have a bigger pay off than the act he was in the middle of committing?

Want to know how this all started? Well so do I. See, to me it started when I was 7. I was listening to what my grade 1 teacher was saying about math... or at least it had to do with numbers, when this kid next to me tapped me on the shoulder to show me this picture he drew. Or at least that's what I believed until now! I realise now that it was all a sham! He wasn't trying to win my friendship, he was trying to bring me down right from the start! And all this time I thought I was helping him out. I thought I was helping by being his friend, helping by listening to his ideas, helping boost his self-esteem and confidence. But that's just what he wanted me to think, when all along he was just reeling me in so that there'd be someone else to take the fall instead of him.

As I sit here, contemplating what could have been, I'm reminded of an old saying my grandmother would often quote: "If you don't eat your vegetables, your best friend will betray you!" I see now how right she was. Now it seems that all the vegetables in the world won't be enough to save me. Sigh.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Season Two Episode Four


They are the driving force for seniors, mothers, and those guys who keep track of their favorite whatever. They were created to draw people into stores who felt they could do better in sales, but weren't. Although, now that I think about it they were probably created to allow the customer a free sample of a new product, which is also trying to boost sales for the previous reason. I'ma look it up.

Okay so it was first designed for people to drink Coca-Cola. Huh. Before, Coke was just some kind of tonic and then this guy was all like "we need to make this drink bigger and widespread". So then, why do I bring up coupons? It all started back when I was riding the bus, last week. Back then, things were different. Now it's all "gimme candy", now it's all "candy's lame".

There I was, riding the bus, minding my own business, when suddenly some university students get on the bus! A little while later, this old lady gets on the bus, as if from no where! Well actually if an elderly person was able to do anything as if from no where, that'd be a miracle. So here I was, looking out the window, and there was that old lady talking to the bus driver about some of the dumbest things I've over-heard. Somehow she runs out of such things to say and turns to one of the girls who got on at the university, who was reading the university newspaper, and asks if the paper has any coupons the students can use. As if coupons were the only things that mattered in a newspaper.

The girl politely said no and smiled and I politely gave the old lady a roll of my eyes (which went unnoticed, hence it being polite). I don't know what it is about coupons, but I generally don't get around to using them. I really only use them for the grocery store, and pizza, and only because pizza is over-priced and groceries... well groceries are essential and if I can get them for cheaper, then why not? But I don't think that I envision myself as an old man sitting by the door in my rocker waiting for the fliers to come so I can save on socks at Walmart. Ha ha! It's a pretty funny image though, so maybe I'll do that when we're expecting company, just to throw them off a bit. Mutter something about coupons every now and then whilst rocking in my chair, facing the door. And like, five feet from the door. Oh the dinner parties we'll have.


Riparian - (adj) of or relating to the bank of a stream, river, or lake


Head feeling dizzy
Spun like a record, baby
Sit down for a spell.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Season Two Episode Three

There it was, laying just before me, telling me to take it to a safe place and that only I could take care of an object of beauty so great as itself. I told myself it wouldn't be right, to take something so great, keeping it for my own. Such a thing should be shared with the world and held on display. But who else could appreciate such a thing? Who else could fully comprehend what an object of such beauty was meant for?

Tourists would come and take pictures, but this was an act they performed for almost anything! People took pictures of anything the eye could see, every day objects. Maybe a few news crews would come by... the reporter might do research, but proper research? And how good would their cameraman be? Would the story even last five minutes? There wouldn't be any celebrities beside it, talk show hosts probably wouldn't even mention it, or at least not the important ones anyway. ...Was there such a thing?

It didn't matter, nobody else would care, nobody but me. But nobody has had a chance to see it yet, how can you say such a thing when no one has even had a chance? We all deserve chances right? The world should be given the chance to take in its beauty, to give it value and worth.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and who was I to deny the world of such an opportunity? Besides, who was to say that I was the only one who would fully behold and fully enjoy the Holy Grail of the 21st century? There could be many such as myself, dreaming of something, when compared to the real thing, even half as glorious? Yes, I would fight my inner demons, deny my selfish want, and I would present the Golden Slurpee Cup to the world, so that all may revel in its wonders! I would be the famous founder of a new way of slurpee goodness, and unless 7-Eleven had a museum somewhere, the Golden Slurpee Cup would belong to me! Ah haha ha ha haaaa!


Golden Slurpee Cup
Shining in the bright sunlight
Wonderous to all.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Season Two Episode Two

It's St. Patrick's Day and you know what that means!

Hilarity ensues when Dave and Rob embark on a mission to make this St. Patrick's Day, the best one yet! Will they set the records? Will they make it out alive? Stay tuned next week for many exciting conclusions! The day started out with a bowl of Lucky Charms.

At Saint Patrick's Purgatory

Donnchadh Mor O'Dala

(Attributed. 13th century)

Pity me on my pilgrimage to Loch Derg!

O King of the churches and the bells-

bewailing your sores and your wounds,

but not a tear can I squeeze from my eyes!

Not moisten an eye

after so much sin!

Pity me, O King! What shall I do

with a heart that seeks only its own ease?

Without sorrow or softening in my heart,

bewailing my faults without repenting them!

Patrick the high priest never thought

that he would reach God in this way.

O lone son of Calpurn- since I name him-

O Virgin Mary, how sad is my lot!-

he was never seen as long as he was in this life

without the track of tears from his eyes.

In a narrow, hard, stone-wall cell

I lie after all my sinful pride-

O woe, why cannot I weep a tear!-

and I buried alive in the grave.

On the day of doom we shall weep heavily,

both clergy and laity;

the tear that is not dropped in time,

none heeds in the world beyond.

I shall have you go naked, go unfed,

body of mine, father of sin,

for if you are turned Hellwards

little shall I reck your agony tonight.

O only begotten Son by whom all men were made,

who shunned not the death by three wounds,

pity me on my pilgrimage to Loch Derg

and I with a heart not softer than a stone!

Translated by Sean O'Faolain


Dressed in green or blue
Thinking of all things Irish
Hard day tomorrow.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Season Two Episode One

Last time on Multipurpose Exposition:

"If only there was some way we could reprogram the system! Then it'd be chocolate strawberry milkshakes for everyone!" Exclaimed Sara.

And now prepare to be stunned as the exciting events unfold this season, starting now!

"I know," said Gary "I'll just rewrite the initiation sequence so that instead of soy skim milk supplement, it'll give us chocolate strawberry milkshakes!"

"I hope you're right Gary," Sara said, nervously looking around. "Because I don't think I could take it anymore. Day after day we're served soy skim milk supplement with our daily ration of bran muffins, and well... ever since I found out I'm human and not a ...whatever poor creature that puts up with soy supplements and bran muffins... well I just don't think I could put up with it all for one more day!"

"Okay Sara, here goes nothing!" As Gary entered the code or whatever, Sara couldn't help but look towards the door to see if Lunch Lady Luann caught wise of their plan. Any minute she could burst through the door and then all would be lost! Just then a hand came from behind her to rest on her shoulder! She grabbed the hand and with the force of a thousand rhinos and the fancy moves she learned in Thai Chi Class, she flipped whoever was behind her over her left shoulder and onto the floor! BAM! "Dave?"



"Dave! Wake up man, you just fell asleep in gym class and Coach is mad! I think he's gone to get the old broken tether ball to whip you with, you better run!"
"Sir, yes sir!" And with that, I was off like a flash. Man, those days were filled with nothing but hilarity. And wouldn't you know it, Coach didn't fail me after all. Turned out he'd been making out with Mrs. Flarison in the janitor's closet. And that's how I almost failed gym class.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


All the pictures of crows that I looked at, didn't quite match what I saw the other day. I even looked at ravens, just in case I was wrong about it being a crow. I asked my friend Jillian, a bird fanatic, if she had ever heard a crow make a different call or sing a different song than was normal.

I describe the subtle differences in the crow's features, to Jillian. It had brown tipped wings, a small stripe of red around its neck, and there was something about its eyes but I couldn't quite place it, just that they didn't seem right somehow. It was like the crow could see into me, read my thoughts or see my dreams.

When I described to Jillian the sounds the crow made, she said it sounded more like what a Rifleman might call, or a Fullvetta, neither bird being indigenous to North America. She said that the only thing that it could be, that related to how a crow could look but not how a crow sounded, would be the Black-lored Babbler, but that they were native to Africa. I suggested that maybe someone had brought it over to Canada, but Jillian didn't think customs would allow that.

We puzzled over it some more and finally Jillian came to the conclusion that she would just have to see it for herself. She also didn't think that the Babbler ever had a stripe of red around its neck, to the best of her knowledge. So we headed off to the park on the way to Sal's Milk Shop, where I had last seen this mysterious bird.

Of course, when we got there the bird was nowhere to be seen. I tried listening for it, but to no avail. Just when I bring in my bird expert, there's no bird to examine. Jillian said that we should walk around and see if we could find it and after an hour of searching, we still hadn't come across it. Jillian said if I happened upon it again I should call her, and she'd try to make it out this way when she could. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.


Never forgotten
Always in my memories
Keeping my thoughts warm.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Onehundred Ninetynine

I was on my way down to Sal's Milk Shop the other day, when I came across a peculiar sight. Or maybe it was more in the way it sounded. Can something look different if it doesn't sound like it should? I remember one day when I was a kid, they tried playing a different song for the ice cream truck. No kids came out because they didn't recognize the song. It wasn't until some kids who were playing ball hockey saw that it was an ice cream truck and were shouting about it until everyone else clued in as to what the music was for.

This was the same idea, only... birds don't usually make sounds other than their regular songs and chirps, unless perhaps they're old and losing their voice, but this was not the case, as far as I could tell. This was a crow with another song entirely. I didn't recognize what bird this song might belong to, if somehow the crow was imitating another bird, which was a trick I didn't think crows could pull. I might have come to the conclusion that this particular crow had been raised by another family, but since when did birds take after young that was not their own? It was not something I was aware of, but I wasn't going to let that lack of knowledge allow me to dismiss the possibility.

I wanted to get closer to the crow to get a better look, but I didn't want to frighten it. Slowly I placed my right foot a few inches in front of me. When the bird didn't move, I allowed the rest of my body to catch up. This also did not frighten the bird. As I watched it, I started to notice some subtle differences between it and how I know crows to look. Maybe I hadn't really bothered to look at a crow this close before, or maybe my memory is a bit off, but there was something about it's plumage that didn't quite fit.

I wish I had brought my camera with me, but who brings a camera with them to get milk? I'll have to get a book on birds and see what I can find.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Onehundred Ninetyeight


It comes to us at one point or another, in one form or another, and even the size can vary. It is said that defeat is only how one handles it. This is true. When handled correctly, one will find admirers and friends who are there to help out. Also when defeat is handled correctly, one is able to improve where they had previously failed, finding hope instead of despair.

The old adage "Try, try again" comes to mind. One might have to try from scratch, depending on how poorly they were defeated, but at least those first few steps will come a little easier, and perhaps with improvement some of those steps could become stronger foundations. The stronger one becomes, the harder one will stride for success.

Victory can only come through what one has learned from previous failures. Defeat does come at a cost and sometimes that cost is too great for one to try and carry on. Sometimes one can find a way around the cost, but even that is found only after the defeat of many, and with help. All this has been taught to me through the playing of video games. And cannot this lesson be applied to much of life? Indeed it can. Now here's another quarter, beat the next level.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Onehundred Ninetyseven

If you knew you were going to live past 100 years, what would you do? Would you do anything differently? Would you try and push how long you could live for? Would you try and live a more noble life, try to achieve more goals?

I think once I hit 90, I'd spend the next 10 years doing whatever it was in my life that I hadn't already accomplished. That being said, without the knowledge of how long I'll live for, am I going to now live like every day is my last? Am I going to make the most of my days? I'd like to think that I will do a better job than I have in the past, but I don't yet know about doing anything too dramatic quite yet. I don't really have big aspirations for my life right now.

I think that after those 10 years and I've hit 100, I'd find some place in the world with a really big library and just read, or if I couldn't read I'd have someone read to me. I assume by then I'd have some kind of assistant, so I'd get them to read to me. Or maybe in the future you'll get to plug into a book, like a 3-D experience and I'd just spend my days jacked into all of my current favorite books, and then whatever other books there may be. My assistant would bring me food and take care of me, but if you could virtually live out a book, I'd be all upon's. Either that or if you could do the same with a movie, that would be sweet. And the same with video games. Man, I hope my ol' ticker will be able to take it... Either that or find a mountain some where, build a cabin, and just live out my days enjoying the scenery. As well as have my assistant bring me a book and once I finish that one, he will already have brought me another, and so on.


Sluice - (n) 1. an artificial passage for water with a gate for controlling the flow; also: the gate so used 2. a channel that carries off surplus water 3. an inclined trough or flume for washing ore or floating logs


Sneaky red panda
Taking food from monkey cage
Looking innocent.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Onehundred Ninetysix

Fallen oak trees were all that remained of what once used to be a place of beautiful seclusion. It was said a hospital was going to take its place. Kill the earth so that we may live. Some would say that was a good thing, some would cry out at the injustice of it.

The city would make sure there was a lot of foliage to help maintain the image of what once was, to try and hide the fact that hundreds of trees were now gone. The press would make it look good, that was their job. In time, people would forget. The hospital will create jobs and serve as a place where many loved one's lives are saved.

Strong memories are hard to forget and at least in those memories and in the photographs taken, that oak forest will live on. We had taken many walks together in that forest. It was the place where we had our first picnic. I'll remember the way she smiled and let out a joyful sound when I removed the blindfold and she saw were she was. It was where her grandfather would take her and taught her about nature. It was where she went for her assignment in photography. It was where she wanted her wedding photos taken, right by our tree. That big beautiful tree where I had carved our initials in a heart into.

Too bad she wasn't here with me right now because I'd have to tell her when she got back from her trip to Fiji. She would have to see this for herself, and that meant having me there beside her, which meant I'd have to see this again, relive this again. It would be another sad day but I was the man, so I could handle it. I would have to handle it so I could support her. For right now that was something I'd face another day. Right now I stood in silence and morned the passing of this ...well it wasn't a forest anymore now, was it. This soon-to-be hospital. I suppose this site would always carry sorrow now. If not for the forest, for the people who would come here to die. And that is the nature of life, to be here for what would seem only a moment, only to pass before you could have your say.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Onehundred Ninetyfive

Okay so I was going to write today's blog while I still had to pee, but the more I thought about if I could last or how quick I'd have to type or how long I could type for, and what I'd type about while I really had to go... I just couldn't hold it. The pressure was too immense, it was too much of a strain on my body, the weight of the need to pee was too heavy, the seconds were too long and far in between and one minute seemed like it might last a year, the urgency was becoming too much to bare! I just had to go and there was nothing that could stop me, not even the good idea of writing under pressure.

After, there was much relief. So then I thought, but what about writing under pressure? This is no good! I can't just have imaginary pressure, if I could work under that sort of thinking, I probably would have done better in school. I thought, maybe if I imagine the internet is about to be cut off and the last thing I'd want the world to know is in this blog! But then I thought if that were true, how could they access what I had written? So that didn't work. Or maybe there was some kind of contest where if you wrote a full on blog in the next few minutes you'd win a prize. But then I could only think of what kind of prizes there might be for such a contest and if there was a choice between prizes which would I choose? The Lazy Boy relining chair? The trip to Winnipeg? The gift card to Wendy's?

Now instead of a blog written under pressure, you get a blog about the lack of pressure because I just couldn't hold it in. It's good and bad, and the fight is between my body and my mind. My body is thankful for the relief but my mind is disappointed from the lack of creative muse.


Obloquy - (n) 1. strongly condemnatory utterance or language 2. bad repute: disgrace (syn) dishonor, shame, infamy, disrepute, ignominy


Beating with a sock
Warm, fresh out of the dryer
Barely felt at all.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Onehundred Ninetyfour

I was thinking about the super power based on eye color thing, and I guess your super powers wouldn't have to be elemental based, but it just seemed more natural for one to have more earthen super powers than supernatural.

I can't remember the last time I had waffles. I've had pancakes, but I don't remember waffles. I must have had them within the last two years... but maybe not. I also can't remember the last time I tied my hand at painting. But that's not nearly as tasty as waffles. Oh, I wonder if you can paint at the Mendal Art Gallery. They have a section where you can make your own art, with supplies provided, I wonder if that includes paint supplies, or if they could supply some if you asked. I should do that sometime.

It has also been a while since I've gone camping. As in, I've got my tent, sleeping bag, and fire pit and that's all there is. I think the last time I did that was with Dave and Jeremy, which was also the first time I met Jeremy. I wonder if that was the last time I had toasted marshmallows? Or maybe I had toasted marshmallows at my family's reunion.

I think, in order to resolve these cliff hangers, I'll have to go on a camping trip where we have waffles and toast marshmallows. Oh, we could have toasted marshmallows on our waffles, in the tent! Then we can sit around the fire and sing and make bear calls. Or I could paint a picture of me doing those things... would that be the same? I guess it's quicker than actually doing it.

Okay, that's a plan! Now it's time for a haiku:

Lost in the forest
Looking for berries and nuts
Find bear, lose bowels.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Onehundred Ninetythree

I think it would be cool if humans had super powers, but how would you determine what kind of powers you had?

One way could be by eye color. Each color would be assigned a different color, but those with mixed colors... either you would have two powers or you wouldn't have any powers at all because your color has to be pure. We would call you "normies" and rule over you. I think the only way you'd have two powers would be if your eyes were two different colors and each eye's color was pure.

The eye colors most common are: hazel, blue, brown, green, grey, and amber. The powers would be as follows:

Green - control over earth's vegetation

Blue - flight, the control over the air, control over water

Brown - control over the soil and tectonic plates

Amber - control over fire

Hazel - control over animals

Grey - control over the earth's metals (also anything made of those metals)

I'm not too sure of any ranking order there might be, but I suppose it would be whatever group was best able to contribute to humanity. Green is good because we need plants, Amber is good because we need fire, Brown is good because we need good soil, Blue is good because we need water and also flying is fun, Hazel... well animals taste good but I don't think it'd be control over dead animals but maybe they could make it so the animals don't feel pain when they die and they would also be able to maintain population amongst the animal kingdom, keeping animals from extinction. Grey ...if you have control over metal... you could help the economy? Somehow? Maybe Grey would be at the bottom and from there, let there be debates.

Meanwhile, I'ma go fly and make sure it rains where it needs to.


Shimmy - (n) an abnormal vibration esp. in the front wheels of a motor vehicle.

Oh. So how's that fit into "shimmy and shake"... ohhh, we just turned that phrase around to stand for dancing. I get it.


Rolling down hillside
Grass merging with my clothing
Tide can handle it.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Onehundred Ninetytwo

Have you even woken up in the morning and wondered who you were supposed to be?

Do you ever think that you could have a twin, from which you have been separated since birth? How would you know which of you is the evil and which is the good twin? What if you're the good twin? Or if you're the evil twin? What if through-out your life you thought you were good, but really you're the evil twin? Or if you thought you were evil but you're actually the good twin? How much more evil is your evil twin?

If you found out you were the evil twin, would you try and change your ways? Or maybe you found out you were the good twin, would you try and stop your evil twin? Or vice verse? I don't know what I'd do if I found out I was the evil twin, but I'd think it was funny, or at least for a little while. Do you think if the two of you ever met it would have to be a fight to the death?

Maybe you could join forces because it's not like, if you're good you're at the one end of the spectrum and if you're evil you're at the other end, it could be that you're both near the middle, just one is a little more good than the other. It would be more the way you make decisions that's the difference. One chooses to hold the door open, the other doesn't. One chooses to do their homework, the other decides to slack off.


Green grassy field
Birthing forth all its flowers
Surrounded by trees.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Onehundred Ninetyone

She had been searching for about one mile but still hadn't picked up any sort of trail. Dense as the jungle may be, Lhuna was the best tracker of her tribe, the Porachae. Lhuna was trying to track down her brother's killer, and for two hours she thought she was hot on his trail but then his tracks seemed to disappear. It wasn't as though Lhuna wasn't able to see his tracks, it was more like they had just stopped. She back tracked the mile she just came, watching for anything she might have missed or over looked.

She noticed the black wasps weren't out looking for prey and this was usually their time of day. It was certainly hot enough for them... Lhuna paused to listen. What happened to all the insect life? She realised that there wasn't even the faint hum of the purple lotus fly. There was the call of the red-beaked warbler, and she could hear the white-throated howler monkeys, the yellow-tailed northern hawk gave out a cry, as well as many other creatures that could normally be heard, but she could not seem to hear any of the insects.

When she got back to the last place she had seen his tracks, she bent to examine them further. The grass and moss had been firmly pressed down, more so than a few of his other steps that lead up to this one last step. Why was that? At first Lhuna thought it had been because he had somehow got up into the trees, but none of the surrounded trees had branches that were low enough, even if he had jumped. And if he had jumped, his tracks would show that he had sped up rather than slowed down. His footprints would be further apart rather than closer together.

As Lhuna examined the tracks she thought maybe he had gone left, where the jungle began to thin out a little but there was no indication in his tracks to support that thought. And there certainly was no evidence showing that he went right, where the jungle only became more and more dense with foliage. If only Lhuna had been able to make her brother's killer bleed, blood was a lot easier to track than nothing and sometimes told more than what footprints had to offer. She decided that she might as well go left and see what there was, if anything, to see. Lhuna really didn't want to let this man get away with the murder of her brother, but what could she do when the trail ceased to exist? Can a man really disappear into thin air?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Onehundred Ninety

This is going to be a free style write-up, eyes closed:

Recognized him from the other day. He was still wearing that yellow hoodie that looked like it was five years old. No fooling. He was talking aobut how he had just come from outer space, and I remember thinking that they probalby had kicked him out because of the way he walked. He was talking about it so much taht I wonder what he would have talked about when he was in space.

Which reminds me, ...well also I don't know my astronomy well enought but is there an "inner space". If not, why's it outter spce? Wh y not just space? Is it because it's out of our atmostphere? Oh... Well I ... but then you might as well use "outter to describve everything outside of earth. "The outter sun", the ...oh hey, I gues swe do yuse "outter planets", or is that just for tv and movies?

I can't imagine life without tv, or rather I have not lived a livfe berfore television and so having grown up watching so much tv and movies, I sometimes forget if something is a fact or not. Or especially terms used in a situation I have never been in before. I can't think of another example besides space right now, but I know that sometimes I'll be talking with a friend and I'll go to bring something up but might not be sure if it was just something I saw on tv or if it was real. Or the way things are done in movies, I sometimes think "this is how life is for these people, but that might be wrong.

For example: gangs and the mob. I've been told by people that there is no such thing as the mob, such as this one girl in my high school. She was Italian and so based on her family being Italian, she said that there was no such ting as the mob and that it was just something Holywood made up. I kinda think that's as if I said that there's no such thing as... oH, no take for instance Bob and Doug McKenzie. They like to say "take off, you hoser" or "take off, eh" but I've not heard another Canadian say that, nor have I used that phrase myself, outside of knowing about Bob and Doug and thus imitating them. But htat doesn't mean that somewhere in this fast country of ours, there isn't a community or village that has used those phrazes before Bob and Doug were gcreated.

I can't tink of anything else right now, but I sure didn't like the weather today. I would rather there hadn't been any wind so that it would have made walking downtown better, but I guess to some degree (no pun intended) the weather will always abe a little chillier downtown than not downtown. Or at least that's the way it is here in Canada. I know some of oyou americans and Mexicans might be all ":oh but it's always warm here in (enter city here) and especially in downtown, you have to dreass for a hot day if you're going downtown. Besides, if not for the wather you're drinking coffee becausea there's a starbucks on every corner and you have to support the starbucks. What would htey do without their installment of cash dollars without... oh wiat, I just used without again. I think.

Okay anyway, I think this is a long enough lbog and I'm not going to even open my eyes because it's probalby really bad. Seeing as though I'm rwitting this without spell check and it's later than I usually stay up to write a blog so I'm not going to be as competent and I might normally be. Exsample of using "without" twoice. and I think that 'o' in "twisce". Oh man, di dI just put an... 's'? in ... well I forget what word that woudl have been. So all this is to say you shouldn't let me blog free style. But I did just incase someone found it attractive. lAdies?