Archive for May, 2014

Highborn Journal – 2 Banshee (ep 02)

“Thank you for your visit. But I will be alright here.” Arlun sighed as Ytha stood in the door. “Father, you are not the youngest, we could take care of you in the village.” she tried once more to persuade her father to come to the village with her. “I can still hunt, I can gather roots and berries, even the pixie berries your brother so loves. I’ll be fine.” he smirked, in his eyes she could read that he was both lying and immensely sad.

Slowly mist rose from around the tiny cabin her father lived in, increasing his nervousness. “Hurry home now.” he sighed, obviously wanting her far from his cabin.

With a terrifying shriek a figure arose out of the mist making Ytha jump away from it a few inches. “You can’t stay! Run home!” Arlun urged her to run, a plea he had not to repeat, originally Ytha thought her father closely behind herself but noticed after a few moments he had stayed at the cabin. “You can’t have her!” he barked at the forming figure in the mist, slowly gaining the shape of a woman, bone like arms, torn clothes, her hair was wild almost feral.

Ytha recognized the figure as a Holler, other Albin and humans called them Banshee.

As she wanted to open her mouth and call for father to run as well, Arlun opened his arms, a gesture she had not seen him do since her childhood, his gown slid open, revealing a hole in his chest that seemed to be filled with the same ethereal mist as the Banshee in front of him. “Come home, Ythren.” he sighed, clearly weeping.

Highborn Journal – 2 Banshee (ep 01)

Ytha ran as fast as her legs would carry her, her field of vision was narrowed as the trees of the forest shot by her. Endlessly she was searching for the lights of the village, but couldn’t find them, although she knew the woods like the back of her hand. As daughter of a hunter she ought to.

While running through the woods her mind returned to her brother, and his favorite pass time, pixie berries. Not only did he like them but cultivated them.

Often did he try to rally support for a fence around the village so wild animals and spirits of the firest couldn’t wander into the village.

Ythas wife, the village sanctum maiden, always stood against it. “Albin are a part of the forest, they shouldn’t separate themselves from it by a fence.”, folks in the village agreed with her.

As did Ytha.

While running through the nightly forest in panic she began to doubt her conviction about the fence.

A log caused her to trip and fall.

Panting Ytha got up and looked around the dark woods.

Nothing.

Never the less she got up and continued on her way, weary of any sound in the darkness around her. An owl shouted in the distance, making Ythas skin crawl, followed by ghastly silence.

Mist started rising, urging Ytha to run faster, her mind wandered involuntarily back to the reason for her running.

Observations 09 May 2014

Lullabies.

I made a little observation about lullabies. I sung a few ones to my son, and my wife sung a few ones.
So far, so good.
German lullabies tend to be set in a melancholic tone. One line goes “…if god wants you’ll be woken again tomorrow…” – now sleep tight little fucker, if god wants, you’ll die!
It’s the same that puts you to bed with roses and nails. Nails for frak’s sake! This is a torture and kill song, the sadists love it!
Another one has the kids being obducted, or worse even dead and playing with gods – how comforting. Sleep, you’ll either get obducted, or you’ll die tonight. If not tonight, just wait.

Now the english ones tend to be more psychedlic, or plain spoiling the kids. Yes, “hush little baby”. SPOILED BRAT comes to mind.
In the psychedelic aisle we have “Rock a bye Baby, on the tree top (!), when the wind’s blowing, the cradle will rock (naturally), when the bough breraks the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all.”

How on earth did the cradle and the baby in it wind up, up there?? Tornado? The falling and breaking part must be the influence of the germans. (German and English belong to the same language family, thus our ancestors are from one mindset

Nonconformists.

We live in a society in which nonconformity has become the norm. I think a new pinnacle of stupidity has been reached the day that nonconformity has become conformity!
Everything nonconformity stands for is violated. When being “not part of the system” (the system that devours souls for breakfast, sending you on an unepic quest for money and fame, hurrying to the grave) actually IS the system, the game is over.

Everything the counterculture does, is incorporated in our culture. Thinking outside the box is tightly incorporated inside the box, it’s an Inception style nightmare.

When everything you want to do, not to support the system, the society, the state or what not, is supported, and assimilated by said corporations – all paths are predetermined. You are IN the system, period. No way out.
Forget it.
Now get you arse to work.

All that is left for you to do if you are a “non-conformist” is to leave. Build a hut in a rural part of Siberia, and grow your food for yourself. Everything aside of that – preplanned paths that you can travel as you wish, but you are part of the system, you are conform to society, allways.
Period.

Highborne Journal – 1 Orb (ep 19 finale!)

Jelendor and Warlin were astonished to see the guards helping them unbury the staircase after Ferlon had collapsed it. Quickly the two men glanced at the podest where Seerlon and the orb had been standing before they were cast down from the large hall.

The orb was still there hovering in the hallow hands of a person neither had seen before. “The two reached for the sphere and all of sudden this man was there.” a guard reported to Warlin, they all had bowed their heads in shame, with Seerlons demise they suddenly felt ashamed of their prior actions.

With him their hatred towards different people had died, as if it had been a spell that Seerlon put on them. “And he is?” Warlin pointed vaguely at the stranger.

“We are not a man.” startled the guards inched away, Jelendor reached for his dagger. “Nor are we a woman.” the voice soinded oddly familiar to Warlin and Jelendor. “We were,” the androgynous being had stood up, glanced at the people in the room with amethyst and yellow eyes, puzzled it glanced down on itself. “I was Ferlon and Farlynna, you may call me Ferlyn.”

Staring at the orb in its hands Ferlyn sighed satisfied. “I must protect you until crystal can enclose you once again.”

Absent minded Jelendor watched Ferlyn walk amongst the ruins. The elders of Thar’moihm had also gathered, from the starlight well sprits of the past were also onlooking. “Autumn is coming.” Danarien sighed, joining the group in watching Ferlyn make its way to the ancient temple. “Planting the seed for a new spring is something one should do while there is still time.”

Highborne Journal – 1 Orb (ep 18)

Slowly Farlynna approached the sphere and Ferlon. “We could utilize the powers of the orb together.” she whimpered, in her words desperation, she wanted both the powers of the sphere as well as Ferlons closure and his forgiveness.

Her graceful hand trembled as she reached for the orb, Ferlons expression behind the relic was neutral sad. “We must guard it, one day it will be of great importance.”

Farlynna sensed something from the corners of her eyes.

Leaves.

Holding on to the orb with her left she turned around and found herself in the forest, leaves fell around her as densely as heavy snowfall. Startled she turned back to face Ferlon, he held on to the lower half of the orb with his left hand. They stood in the ruins of an ancient Albin town. Spectre like spirits moved around them, staring in disbelief. “It needs to go home.” he sighed, Farlynnas initial shock was blown away by sudden unexplained relief.

“Where are we?”

“Thar’maihm.” Ferlon looked around, still the amethyst glow upon his eyes. “The old Thar’maihm, before it was lost to the ages.” he and Farlynna kept holding on to the orb as they stepped out of the well, after a few steps the spirits around them vanished. “I guess I finally get to explore the old temple.”

“What will become of me? Of us?” Ferlon turned to her, although he had felt the immense pain of betrayal he still felt the greater joy of love for the young woman. “You and I are no longer.” he sighed, Farlynna stared at him with an inquisitive stare, the colors of the forest around them grew in intensity. Beyond the last ruins the forest did not continue, instead a gray mist surrounded the ruin town. “Where is this old Thar’maihm?” Farlynna turned to Ferlon, she felt as if all her worries and struggles fallen off of her. “It is where we are.” Ferlon smiled gently, he too felt his worries falling off of him.

Clarkson’s N-word…

I am against racism, or any of that bullshit that puts a blend of people in a drawer and a label.

However. 
Suit and tie wearing executives aren’t a blend of people I can tolerate. Never have they produced anything, let alone something useful.

Jeremy Clarkson, if he is so controversial as the BBC spokespeople claim, he is not allowed to script his own lines! At least if someone would be ao controversial under MY authority, I wouldn’t allow them that. That means some schmuck has actually green lighted the script where Jezza had to use the rhyme with the N word in it. Or he isn’t as controversial and he decided on his own.

When it came to cutting,  some asshole ACTIVELY sought the bad version (not enough mumbling, no substitute) and gave that away – dear BBC, you don’t have a racist problem with Jeremy Clarkson, you have a security problem with your cutting room personnel. Next they’ll leak out secret scenes from tele novellas, making your efforts to secrecy useless.
Seriously,  the mumbled versions should’ve been deleted, virtual trash bin emptied right away – if only physical copies existed, the material should’ve been cut, burned and thrown away. In that exact order.

Or a suit and tie wants Clarkson gone. Deliberately attacking him.

Now, it doesn’t matter, really. Just some theories of a crazy fan, but I think the incident itself is laden with more controversy than Jezza alone could ever hold.
What’s been done and claimed, is done and claimed. Harm done.

I hope they’ll leave Clarkson alone now, and I hope for many more seasons of TopGear, and special programmes with Clarkson (and Hammond and May respectively).

Before I close this post of mine, I think the N word needs to either die out, or come back without the implied racism. Either a word is racist and bad – then we must punish every rapper and other black person currently using the N word freely, just as we would punish a white person (admit it, the way tolerance of the usage of the N word depends on the users racial background is in itself highly racist!), OR white people can drop the N word just as casually as black people. Personally I prefer the first one.
N word prohibition for all people.

With that said, I bid you a sunny and nice Sunday.
Take care,
A.

Let’s go to Mars…

Doctors think that a round trip to mars and back is too risky to ever send a human being.

Background radiation, coronal emissions, thus cancer, bone atrophy, etc.

Not to mention all the hazards of being that far away from earth.

If today’s health & safety fetish would’ve been present back in 1491  – the american continent would’ve remained undiscovered until we sent technologies there. Unmanned transoceanic probes.

Or back in the 1960s, no small step for a man, not even the thought of a leap for mankind. “Too dangerous!”

The future of mankind lies out there.
Not only because we fuck this planet over in the worst possible way, but because it is a simple fact! Suppose we get our shit together, no wars, poverty eliminated, hunger and thirat sated…eventually we need to spread to new areas. And those lie out there.
Period.

And it will be the brave and the bold who will go, take small steps to make giant leaps.

So, yes. Doctors say that going to mars will be too risky, and I say one day some dude (or gal) will go, live there for a time, return and have healthy babies afterwards.
Just to prove that doctors should shut their mouths sometimes.

In that respect, live long and prosper,
to boldly go, where no man has gone before.

Take care,
A.