Archive for May, 2013

Circle Journal – 1 Edge (ep 2)

Sun rose behind the ship, drenching the sail in a deep red color at first changing into a more orange tone over the ensuing minutes. Faces on deck of the one master turned chalk white as the light allowed them to see what was in front of the ship.

The captain staggered to the bow with a half shocked and half curious expression. “Land.” he mumbled satisfied.

Quickle he mounted a expedition team in a small boat to explore the shore that was close to the stranded vessel, the people from below spilled on deck, barely able to contain their excitement.

Shouts of joy and and surprise echoed over the vast shore line. Before the ship the land formed a bay, enclosing the sandbank on which it had stranded to three sides.

Several experienced men pondered that they might have found a large island, large enough to suppot them all.

“It’s big!” all eyes were glued to the crowsnest, the man in it could barely contain his excitement either while he looked into the distances. “It stretches to the horizon and beyond!”

Relieved the captain let himself sink on a coiled up tow. After several harsh weeks of jorney he had brought the ship of refugees to new land. All the deaths that had happened during their journey finally had paid off, the majority of the people aboard would have a new home to settle upon.

Circle Journal – 1 Edge (ep 1)

Under tremoring thunder the waves crushed against the ships bow, the men on deck were scared that the currents might push them off the edge of the world.

In the bowels of the wodden sailing ship were dozens of people, men, women and children, fearing the exact same thing, some had given in to prayer, other had surrendered to their inevitable demise.

No words was spoken, the mumbled prayers aside. Behind them lay a home that did not welcome them any longer. Outcasts on the journey to either the end or new shores, in either way there was no turning around.

From the dark clouds above the waters rain fell almost as from a waterfall, winds whipped across the towering waves, almost drowning the commands that were hollered on the ship. With a last intense blow, the winds seized to blow as the ship moved onwards, only a slight breeze kept filling the tormented sails.

Over the course of a few moments even the wild unforgiving sea calmed. Immediately the sailors assumed the worst, while a hint of relief mixed with curiosity ruled below deck.

A noticeable shock went through the ship, it had been stopped by a force hidden beneath the waves. A man who’s skin bore more similarity to leather than human skin walked at a calm pace from stern to bow. During the storm he had clutched the stir in his fists. “What do you see Captain?” a man roughly his own age shouted from the stern, he was his first in command, a friend since they both had started going to sea.

“Nothing yet!” he hollered back after he had bent over at the bow. “Gotta wait ’til morning!” he peeked up the mast, no one in the crow’s nest, during the storm it had been too dangerous to risk capable hands and eyes, in the pitch black night that surrounded the ship it was of no use. “Wait ’til morning.” he repeated in a low tone and volume to himself.

All new!

In case you missed it my dear readers, today starts a new Series here on my blog.

“Edge”

Maybe it’s exactly what you think it is. As with the last series, and those to come, I have typed it on my cell, and didn’t really have any time* to read through it with a redink pen, so any typos, or grammatical errors – please forgive them, and if you feel up to it, correct them in the comment section.
I love grammar nazis.

It will be released on Mondays and Thursdays, which is the next new thing here: Thursdays!

After this series has ended, the next one is already standing prepped and ready to be published: Naga. I’ll keep the schedule of Mondays and Thursdays. FYI: These two have a combined length of ~29 DIN A4 pages, and there are in total some 160+ pages already finsihed. (And more in the making)

About the whose world series (without spoilering):
It’s a flat world, not in the sense that there are no mountains (there definitely ARE!), but that is a discworld. But unlike Terry Pratchett’s wonderful Discworld novels, these are not funny. Maybe they are involuntarily funny because of bad writing, but that is the reason for my wanting a dislike button here. Didn’t like it? Tell me.
I want critisism. (Won’t stop me from writing more of the same, but at least I can try to steer it all in another direction)

All in all, I wanted to give you a heads up!

A.

*Time: Yes I would have had the time to actually correct it, but not the nerve. Writing in the face of scarce time is possible, sitting down and actually correcting what I wrote – an entirely different thing. Again, I shout out at the grammar nazis in the audience: bitch and moan about it, and I’ll correct it!

Global Warm my ass….please?

You know Odin promised he’d rid of the ice giants. This icy cold tells me he stopped helping us…

For real, I’m not one of the ignorant deniers. I’m not going to say that climate change isn’t happening because god/s won’t let it happen. Or because it always got hotter and colder in the past.

But I’m saying that global WARMING is bullshit!

Why would I say this as an educated, non ignorant person of 21st century central Europe?
Hang on.

After the longest, coldest and darkest winter in several decades here in Europe, I soaked up every bit of sunshine and warm temperatures, only to be thrown into a second coming of winter just now.

In early October 2012 I got my leather jacket from the closet. Put it on in the morning, took it off at work, put it on when going home, and took it off when there.
So for October, November, December, January, February, March and a bit of April I wore my jacket. Don’t get me wrong, I love my leather jacket. But after wearing it for more than six months, I’m sick and tired of it!

BUT, it’s colder now than it was on Christmas eve!
For crying out loud, I took the friggin’ leather jacket out of the closet!
It should remain in there until mid October. Temperatures in the next few days are said to remain cold. It’s the end of May, and I’m running around in my winter apparel! END OF MAY!
For the love of Odin!

Here’s why I think that global WARMING is a pile of bovine excrements: If the Golf of Mexico, that is warming Europe with warm water and air, should stop flowing – likely to happen if the temperature and salinity in it gets changed too much due to warmer temperatures melting ice into it – average temperatures in Europe would DROP by about 5° centigrade. So the global WARMING thingy is just utter crap, at least to me.
Global climate change on the other hand…

Take care,
A.

Ballad of the Strawberry-Shark

In mommy’s belly the baby safe and sound,
felt all too sleepy, not like moving around.

But mummy got worried that it didn’t kick,
worried so much that she almost felt sick.

Out of the blue in daddys mind an idea did spark:
“Kick mommy now, before she gets bit by the strawberry-shark!”

“Teeny tiny biting her fingers hard,
such is the threat of the strawberry shark.”

A huge smile appeared on mommy’s lips,
inside her belly, protesting kicks.

(Thats a true story BTW)

Fire

There is something strangely calming about fire.
The hissing and whisping flames, sparks flying off into the nightsky, with smoke and warmth, and light.

Some archaic enchantment lays itself over me, while my clothes, hair and every pore of mine, soak up the smoke, take it in, as if it was better than air:

I have made fire!

I made these logs burn, I made light and warmth appear.
True, with the aid of a lighter, not some sticks and a lot of patience. But still, I made fire!
The powerful, ancient weight of that simple act, of repelling the darkness of night and the creeping cold, feels good and frees the spirit to soar, discovering freedoms unbeknownst to those who wouldn’t dare stand at arms length from burning logs, engulfed in sparks as if fire-fairies danced around one.

Tales of greener grass, and bluer skies and cleaner waters and fresher air, spun around more loyal and truer people come to mind – stories as old and certain as the flames before me, certain as if half remembered from actually having witnessed, rather than just heard.

Freed of burdens the mind takes to wander, and to wonder. Hesitantly a blinking, distant campfire reminds of the nightsky. Are there others standing in the hot, radiant stream of fire fairies? Wondering over wandering mind, and ponderous mood over the simple act of igniting a fire?
Sure.
How far, I know not, but there are…

Mr. Zed (Ep 11 – finale)

Two summers followed a relatively short and mild winter. Intermissioned by a longer and harsh winter. The undead pleague had decimated the world population by two thirds, but the winters had decimated the undead numbers, along with blunt force and well targwted shots. Only in remote parts of the world were still undead to be found.

Zed sat on a hill above a former city. Surely some undead were still roaming around somewhere in it, but he did not care. The life he had led in the last two years had made up for all the missed opportunities, the atrocities he had witnessed his body committing.

He had saved living people from other undead.

Lately though he noticed that his seeing eye was loose. It wouldn’t stay in its socket.

So he sat on that hill, lying down as the sun was setting.

One by one the stars came out. The city beneath his hill had not got its power back. Probably wouldn’t get it ever back, since people wouldn’t want to live in an area that got terribly cold in the winter, and that was terribly radiated from the nuclear power plant nearby.

Concentrating on the stars above he smiled. Whenever Zed did that, it had looked as if death himself was grinning.
But not that night.

That night when a dead man, drenched in gasoline, lit himself on fire, while staring into the stars.
That night there was an enlightened, peaceful smile on his lips.

Amok egoism…

… I may not be Mr. Considerate myself, but I have gotten a reasonable amount of social competence from my mother, enough as to not being a tital prick.

Why am I writing this? At the time I write these lines, I was standing in a train, happily typing away on part four of act 3 of “Whose World” when the egoism around me, runs me over! First there is this little shit that stood just right in front of the door of the train, people were not able to exit it faster because of him. Just so Shitty McShitpants could get a seat.
Good work asshole!

Then the douchebag “I am important, Motherfucker” shows up and hangs his bag (a travelbag) on the handrail of the cab, so the starway is half blocked. I wished someone had tripped over it and sued that sunshaded prick for damages.
Asshat.

Idiot leaves with his bag, cue intro Twatty O’Twat, also known as the Onioncunt!
It should be prohibited under highprized penalties to enter any public transport with smelly food! Like in this case Onion Pizza. Happily munching away ger pseudo Italian cuisine she positioned her cart like bag – guess where – right, IN FRONT OF THE FUCKING STAIRS!! Later it fell over blocking all of it!

Which reminds me: no cart bags! You aren’t going on a trip? You aren’t shopping? Forget the wheeled bag!
Get a backpack, pack light or heavy, go.
Get a bag, pack light, go.
Get a cart, you better be shopping!

You know how irked I gotta be to stop writing?
Very.

Now if the selfcentered egomaniacs continue to show up in the bus, I’m going to turn violent… (how can people wonder why some people actually go on killingsprees?)

A.

Mr. Zed (Ep 10)

The Letter

My name is, well I actually don’t remember my name. Nor much of my life before…
The people here in this house call me Mister Zed.

I held a deskjob. Every sunday I was at church, with a woman and a child. Perhaps my family? I firmly believed that I was going to go to heaven after my death.

But instead I did horrible things with horrible people around me. Maybe they see it the same way? It ate flesh from the living. The fear, terror and pain contorted faces of men women and children rush through my memory like flashes in a thunderstorm. Most vividly I remember an old man, he was in an alley. Other undead rushed towards a shooting while I walked to him.

Later something from my memories as a living, breathing person urged me to follow my own path.

I had not eaten in a long time and that bird looked tasty and tempting. But it would’ve been to fast for me to catch, so I left it alone. That was a few days before this amazing thunderstorm! As an undead you don’t fear thunder, nor lightning. You watch nature unfold in all its beauty and terror around you.

The furnace.
I thought about ending my wretched existence, the furnace was functioning and I could’ve done it. But the fascinating beauty of the flames made me stop.

I want to see more, I wish I could still smell or taste.
Or feel.
Even when I stiched my jaw back together I barely felt something.

But my one good eye still sees. And it will see!

Picture time! (10.May 2013)

Having a smart phone – despite the downsides of being in a microwave cloud most of the day and wasting valuable resources like rare earths – has great perks!

Like having a camera everywhere at all times, just a fingertip away.

Here are some pictures and I have to say the following:

Great Job dear Museum, well done. Now I feel bad when taking medication!
infections anyone?

I live in danger town, even pigeons get their neck broken!
Fly robin fly, up up to the sky!

This is Charly, he was used by our trainer in a seminar. He said he uses this one also in management classes. Am I the only oine who had to think of “John and Peter” from “A Bit of Fry and Laurie”?
Karl, Karli, Charly, Koarl

Last but not least, the Chestnut Blossoms I wrote about yesterday, sorry for the crappy format, but it’s just a Cellphone Camera. 😉
Chestnut Blossoms

Fair day,

A.