Archive for July, 2015

Dystopian clashes

“1984 was a warning, not an instruction manual!”

Well.
Frak it.

There are so many people out there, fearing that 1984 is going to come true. I got flushed with garbage like that from a friend on facebook, amongst a torrent of other useless shite.

Take a good look around you, and tell me, do we REALLY live in the dystopian vision of the future that Orwell drew up, or did Huxley foretell the future more accurately?

What do I mean? Well, let me do a small metaphoric explanation:

Orwell – Every room of the house is under surveilance, the building is on fire, the building manager is standing at the exit, telling everyone that everything is perfectly fine, and they need to continue doing what they’re supposed to.
Huxley – The building is on fire, someone is claiming that the fire is fake, someone else chimes in and says that “back in the day” the flames were practical effects, but the new CGI flames look fakey fake. The hippie chick stands there screaming that the fire-extinguishers cause cancer, a band sits in the corner of the smoke filled lobby jamming as if nothing happened, a spokesperson of the management ist quietly telling a non existent crowd that the building may be burning, a sciency dude from the basement tries to douse the flames with a cup of water, a whistleblower who used to work for management “leaks” the info that the sprinklers are not working, but no one is listening.

Neither Orwell nor Huxley ever dreamed of the possibility of their dystopian visions ever combining in a catastrophic fusion of “We’re fraked!”.
In all honesty, I am afraid we live in a bastard love-child of these dystopian visions: “1984” married “A Brave New World” and  we live in the resulting catastrophe.

Governments lie, tell those in a calm and boring voice as if it was the truth, while all kind of nonsensical shite is hurled around too, so even IF someone were to tell the truth, it would be drowned out by the noise. (Many people, even in the US haven’t got a clue who Edward Snowden is, or what he did/does…and no, he’s not Julian Assange…)
For all that it’s worth – do not turn to the cospiracy theorists. They are just adding to the confusion, the most conspiratory thing I would be willing to believe, is that the governments are trolling us with crazy, looney stories in the conspiracy department themselves, to distract us.

You are flooded with useless crap on facebook, google, twitter, 5 trillion TV channels, countless magazines, “news”papers, X-Boxes VS. Playstations, Nintendos, smartphones (and the entire ridiculous “apple VS. android” war), gaming in general, and all those special people out there.

Can you truly sort out the real news from all this crap?
No?
Good.
Because even the real news, probably is a fabrication, once the BNW crap is sorted out, the 1984 factor shines through – lies, lies, lies, truth, lies, lies, truth, lies, halftruth, lies.

But wait, there’s more!

Once this unholy union of “complete over saturation” and “complete surveillance / fabrication” is uncovered, and you pay a few minutes attention to the people (supposedly?) in power, you realise the horrible truth: this is a menage a trois of dystopian nightmares. Orwell and Huxley got company – idiocracy has joined the playing field, mingling with the others.
Yes, idiocracy.
Look out there, people who hold (ivy league) degrees, but by all common sense shouldn’t have gotten out of the short bus, are in leading positions. Senators, governors, vice presidents, and higher up in the respective food chains of countries.
People who would loose in a game of chess against a common inner-city pigeon.
》Wind can’t be used as a renewable source of energy, because it would slow down, and stop cooling the land, thus global warming. Global warming isn’t real, it got cold last winter. If solar panels are used it might siphon all the sunshine away and leave nature in the dark…《
Those were extreme examples, but pay close attention to your politicians, and you will hear nonsensical shite, or contradictions in one sentence, yourself.

My suggestion, if your politicians call for more gas guzzlers, steal their money, unfollow everyone who is re-/posting more than twice a day, steer clear of conspiracy theorists, and do life perfomances for the CCTV cameras, and later demand the tapes released into your custody to make an artsy film (without ever needing camera equipment), if you hear your government say ANYTHING, take it wotha grain of salt or two.
Entertain yourself.

The system is broken, but boy, it sure is damn fun to beat a dead horse and watch it twitch…

Finn Journal – 3 Honey pt.2 ep.2

Wathron knelt above Elenora, next to him was Nicodia she had tried putting some pure Nectar onto Elenoras lips, washed away by the rain it had dripped into her slightly open mouth, the smile undisturbed. Akashi and Ghony knelt to the sides of the dead woman, their hands stretched above her. But the sad expressions on the wet faces of the two Naga told both Nicodia and Wathron more than any words ever could. Thunder roared on the mountain slope in the distance, worried he glanced over, sporadic discharges were fired, but no longer at their direction. “Usaan. See if you can check it out.” the called Albin woman saluted and turned to Ghony, who finally had stopped attempting to heal Elenora, she glanced up to the tall standing woman and nodded. Moments later the two took off in the night. Ghony sat down on a small clearing in the forest, the winds had calmed, but the rain persited, immediately the Naga had raised an ethereal wall around the two, expecting enemy attacks, but the moments passed, turned into minutes. Nothing.   Ghony held her ears as a screetching scream sounded through the woods. A dark figure appeared above the treetops, glid down onto the clearing, another dark shape appeared above it, plunged down on the first. Screams of pain and panic filled the clearing, but suddenly ended, leaving only the noise of the falling rain. Usaan created an ethereal light, although a magic user she was a scout not a spiritual worker. Covered in scorch marks, scratches and blood Venia towered above the dead bat like creature. Although the rain poured down on them Ghony and Usaan clearly made out the tears rolling down her face. Would Venia have had knees she would have fallen onto them, as she sunk down, her wings hung by her sides showing clearly her exhaustion. Violently she threw her head back and screamed. Letting out all the agony and grief she felt. Immediately knowing that cry, feeling the immense loss Venias, Ghony couldn’t help but tearing up herself. Slowly Usaan stepped in Venias direction, but felt Ghony holding her by the shoulder, as the Albin scout turned back to Venia she saw her repeatedly stabbing the dead bat creature. Suddenly the urge to calm the grief striken Naga was replaced by fear. Gentle sunrays made their way through the forest on the mountain slope, shone across a small valley, on to the hilltop. Venia sat above Elenora, her entire skin still covered with the bruises, scratches, scorches and all the dirt and blood of the fight the night before. Clouds still hung above their heads but opened up to the east allowing the sun to shine by the mountainside, directly on Elenoras pale white face. “I’m so sorry, I have failed you. I threw myself over you to protect you, but you sacrificed yourself for my sake.” she gently stroked the smiling cheeks. Elenoras eyes were closed, Wathron had seen to it. “I have to lead them on my dearest. But not without making a bed for you to sleep in.” she gently picked up the lifless body, lifting it over to a grave the Naga witches had dug up with their powers. “Sleep sweet princess.” she whispered kissing Elenora one last time on the forhead. After she had looked at Elenora for a few minutes she nodded to the Naga standing by, so they began returning the exhumed soil into the grave. Silent tears ran down Venias face. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Nicodia gently took Venias hand, led her away from the grave after the tombstone had carefully been placed at the end of the grave.

It ain’t even August yet!

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But yet, this is in stores RIGHT NOW!

So, five months in advance: Merry Christmas!

Here’s the two Advent calendars so far, enjoy!

2013: http://wp.me/p2TFL9-oa
2014: http://wp.me/p2TFL9-ily

People are fucking nuts.

Just a fun FYI, for once I would like to witness today’s title happening literally. 😉

What drove me to my “highly unusual” conclusion of mass debility?

Amazon, Books and People.

This mixture is odd, you say?
Maybe.
But once you saw that in the top selling books, two coloring books are among the top ranked, you start asking questions.
Like: Are there really that many children around, that these not only are top sellers, but also out of stock, on Amazon? – in short: No.
These books are bought FOR adults.
Colored in BY adults.

That was the moment I took some toilet paper, and wiped off my faith in humanity:

Coloring books for adults.

Are you fraking kidding me? I repeat: Coloring Books. For Adults!

Any potential “calming down” effects aside – you can get that from watching a fire consume the bodies of your enemies – how much more infantile can you get?
Coloring out a fairytale landscape is for five year olds, but not for grown ass people. 

Those are the same kind of people who think the Bible is to be taken literally, who believe Vaccines cause autism, who take channelings from the galactic federation of light seriously, and who take globuli against diabetus!

Coloring frak books, for fracking adults!
And you wonder why extremists want to wipe out western civilisation? There’s the answer. Grownups doing coloring books, and posting it online, while western society is standing by and let’s it happen without a word against it.

If it was one or two mental patients, my mouth would be shut tight. But two entire mental institutions couldn’t buy out the entire amazon.com stock! All of the US, can.
And here I sense the real tragedy – people with access to nuclear weapons (which are controlled by computers using 5inch floppy discs) are doing coloring-books.
Really?
A nation that sent men to the moon fourty-six years ago, is now populated by people who do this stuff for a pass time?
Really?
All you coloring Schmucks, turn to your (great)grandfathers. Look at them. They fought, in a little event called the second world war, Korean war, Vietnam war, and many more. They fought, for you. For your future.
And this is how you repay them? By doing coloring books?
If this was a fad amongst Veterans, who compensate for their PTSD – again, tightly shut pie holeon my part. But this is done by people with no excuse. The Teletubby generation, I presume.

Look numbnuts, if you need to unwind after a long day at work, do what I do – read. Books with words. Let your mind soar, sharpen it, and enjoy what unfolds. One book, one chapter, can give you more images in your head, than an entire library of coloring-books ever could!
But if you have to color in a coloring-book, here’s my suggestion. Do it in secret. Only oncea month, or in (or rather AFTER) very stressful situations – go home. Close all blinds, unhook the phone, turn off TV and internet, drink some wine (Ravenwood’s Zinfandel is recommended), and sit down with your array of 42 color pencils and a fresh page of the coloring book. Then toss that thing in the trash! And draw something that comes to your mind. Something that is truly allowing you to let out some steam! If it is a fiery mess that is eating through your life – doesn’t matter, as long as it let’s out some steam. If it looks like a 3 year old drew it, and your thirty three, doesn’t matter!

But don’t do coloring books, for crying out loud.

Take care, and lay off those coloring books!
A.

Irregular post! 22 July 2015

I haven’t done one of these in some time.

Or at least it feels like that.

As you know, I have been on vacation.

Beautiful Styria!
Ancient, long dead volcanoes, wine country, and hellish heat!
In the middle of the heat wave, we were out there. One would think forests, hills and mountains would provide for fresh and cool air – NOPE!
It was suffocating.
For a few days our son had a fever and diarrhea, making the trips shorter and fewer.

In the times between touristy trips I had hoped to get a bit of “work” done. You know – children stories, comedic bits, Christmas calendar pieces, editorial on RoF, reading…
Again, NOPE!
Once the little one was sound asleep – I was as well.

Well, a week after we had come back from Styria, real tragedy struck: Our beloved dog had to be put down. 😥
Hurts really deep.

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Good night cutie.

Currently writing on episode 67, of (currently) planned 70. I write an episode a week.
Do the math.
Once I am done writing, editorial starts. In January I intend to start posting Rings of Fate, so Editorial needs to be swift…and thorough.

Hope to find the time to compile a review post of some(or one) of our trips.
Take care,
A.

Finn Journal – 3 Honey pt.2 ep.1

A glad and peaceful smile was frozen on Elenoras lips, as she dropped lifeless on her, Venia felt tears falling from the woman’s eyes. Unlike the ice cold rain they were hot, salty, rolling down Venias face. “Don’t do this to me!” Venia screamed. Incapable of moving she still clinged on to her long time friend, even after the shielding wall of magic had closed, and the Naga witches and Albin clergy began counter attacks against the forest on the mountain slope. Venia did not see or hear any of it. The icy rain falling on her and the lifeless Elenora on top of her, unnoticed. Others came over shouting at her, but not a single word was heard by her.   “I love you, you’re my sister! You showed me the true meaning of that word. Sister.” Venia stood in the dense forests around their hut. Elenora smiled at her. “I love you too my sister!” she sighed a glad sigh. Tears ran down Venias head, cooled and diluted by the rain. Slowly the sounds of the world around her came back to haunt Venia out of the place in her mind.   “cover their flank!” Wathrons voice barked a command to the magi. Carefully Venia slid out from underneath Elenora, laid her carefully on the soft ground. Still the peaceful smile on her lips and around her eyes stared at her. “I will be back shortly, don’t go away.” she whispered, gently kissing her on the forehead. The bystanders wanted to say something but with a roar of hatred and anger Venia propelled herself forward, gliding through the magical wall with ease she soon disappeared in the falling night, flying towards the mountainslope, always avoiding the discharges fired from the forest and from behind. She felt her fellow Naga aiming for the spots of the forest that tried to shoot at her. A fire was burning deep down in Venias heart. In every situation it gave her comfort to know that there was a wild untamed side of her, burning in her veins, capable of exploding into a firestorm of passion. Once a year the fire drove her crazy, made her do things she normally wouldn’t do. But in that night on the hills near the prairie the fire raged, burned in her veins, hurt her more than at any given time of her life, she felt the stinging pain of it burning in her eyes. A primoridal side of her awoke, in the hwoling winds and pouring rains she caught the scent of the attackers. In another situation the strange smell might have caused her to pause, maybe even to be frightened. But that night she plunged down into the forests, a magical discharge missed her by mere milimeters, but her stinger did not miss. Savagely she tore the stinger sideways out of the victim, causing him or her to die of the wound rather than the poison. Quickly she ducked away under the heat of another discharge, slightly scorching her right wing. In her state of mind she did not feel it, flung her dagger in the direction of the discharger. Satisfied she heard a cry of pain, while she sunk her teeth in the throat of an unsuspecting creature that had come to aid the first victim. Her priomordial anger and savagery filled her entire being as her teeth piecred through fur, skin and muscle, filling her mouth with blood. Before another of the creatures could attack her, she let go of the bitten creature and turned in the direction she had thrown her dagger in.

Life ain’t that hard presents Beating the Hippies

No, today there will be no lesson in how to live life a bit more easy than what you’re used to.

Today LATH proudly presents BTH

Why?
It needs to be done, that’s why. I am sick and tired of the hippie shit I have to put with, so I am taking that peace sign from you and I will peacefully, and lovingly, bludgeon you to death with it.

There will be a whole range of topics and the BTH posts will be as rando, as the LATH posts, I have laid some topics out before me, but one thing needs to come first, and what’s the first thing that comes to mind when freely associating Hippie?

Weed.

I have had it with you folks telling the world that weed solves every ailment, ever.
Weed and coconut oil.

Listen you wind-tunnels, the moment you set something ablaze – be that tobacco, weed, crack, neighbors – so you can smoke it, guess what. You are inhaling smoke, which is not much more than gas, ash and soot. Which all is carcinogenic.
Your stupid claim that weed smoking (if only pure weed blunts are used) is null and void if you apply logic.

Don’t get me wrong people, I enjoyed that stuff when I was younger. I’d enjoy it today if I could get my hands on some, but the arguments are utter crap.

Legalise it? Yes. Give it to Hippies? No.

Punch it,
A.

Holiday’s over

Now get back to work!

Kidding.

Anyhow, coming next week the new schedule kicks into gear, and that means as follows:

Monday – Story part
Friday – Blurb/Comedy
Every 15th – Crappy Birthday (unless trumped by a special occasion)

Yes, I am canceling the second Story day (Thursday) as of now. Why? Well, I a, freeing up the weekly schedule to make room for upcoming new stpry parts. Yes, Rings of Fate.
Sadly, I am not yet in editorial, but writing even more.
After I’m done with that (approx mid/end August) I will go into editorial, and RoF will start coming on come January. Long stretch? Maybe. But then again, once the year of BttF is over, we can truly launch into the future.

This is not my Friday post, just and additional info, so please, stay tuned…

A.

Finn Journal – 2 Poisoned (ep10)

A womans scream. Presumably the servant girl he had heard earlier. Hastily, but still with the necessary caution, he carried on his climbing, until he had reached the roof.
Originally he wanted to retrieve his garments, but the noise from the fallen chalice was sure to wake and bring on the servant girl. “Excellent work I presume?” startled he turned. “The window was unguarded, why would you send me?” he had no difficulty in holding his balance on the rooftop. “We’re no climbers and the window is too narrow to fit a Naga through! Besides, landing in there would’ve made enough noise to bring that screaming girl and half the guards into the room, let alone wake her.”
Gerry fiercely stared at the old Naga. “You’re planning on killing me, right?
A dirty grin appeared on the old lips. “I had planned to do so. But I changed my mind.”
“Am I getting paid?”
“What you saw stashed in the warehouse, is all yours, plus our venom.” she kept grinning dirty. “The Naga may not be proud, or noble. But we are a strong people. With your help, by using our venom where it pleases you, you increase the terror of the Naga.” she smirked slithering closer wrapping her still strong arms around him. A moment later he found himself clinging on to her scared for his life, as she flew with him in her grasp away into the night.
Shouts from the courtyard told of the Naga, but they were too high up to identify Gerry. Calls indicated they feared for the king, instead of releasing arrows at then they ran to the royal bed chambers.

“Your payment.” the old Naga handed him a bottle, filled with the poison. “The Naga have killed that womans husband and her younger son within a fortnight. Her attack at you was an act of blind rage, and revenge. Now you had her killed in an act of revenge.” Gerry studied the liquid in the bottle, safely stowed it away in his bag, surrounded by clothing so it would be safe for the trip. Glad he had stashed his belongings outside the walls of Galnerra, so he wouldn’t have to return to that shady innkeep, who right now was surely holding out his hollow hand to the royal informants scouring the entire city, he hefted it over his shoulder. “The king will look for you. Take revenge upon your kind. He won’t rest until every last Naga is dead, or he’ll die trying. You will act out on revenge as well and so on. Until there is a war between this kingdom at least and the Naga.” he looked up the footpath they had dropped him on. “Good luck with that.” he shook his head, started walking.

The older of the two Naga kept the younger from pursuing him. “He is right.” she mumbled. “Return to our home lands, take the elder Naga under your command.” shocked in disbelief the younger stared at her. “What will you be doing?”
“Ending this.” he stinger shot up in front of her younger comrade. Moments later she flew past the city walls, dawn was breaking, clearly making her visible for the guards, of bithe city as well as the palace. In a courtyard she spotted her target.
Infuriated and in full armor the king was instructing a group of soldiers, the old Naga plunged from the skies. Coiling up her posterior she caught the force of her landing, trying to ignore the arthritic pain that gave her. “Watch out! She has returned!”
Immediately the old Naga was surrounded by men with unsheathed swords, ready to draw blood. Eager to do so.
“Are you the wench my men saw last night?” the king marched towards her, his sword glistened dangerously in the morning sun.
“Indeed I am my good king.” she hissed, instinctively scanning his armor.for a weak spot. “I have returned so you won’t wager war against my kind elsewhere. I am the last of tbe local population, and my revenge is now complete!” lying she glanced around the other men and their weaponry. “The little noble man was delicious by-catch if you were wondering.” another lie to save a life, although Gerry could take care of himself, he would have it easier this way.

Begrudged the king stared at the old Naga, sheathed his sword. “Hack off her stinger, break her wings and leave her in the sun.” his voice was cutting and cold like ice, as he turned away.
The men around the courtyard drew their swords if they had not already done so. Suddenly they gasped, as a swooshing sound filled the air. A gentle sting in his neck.followed. “Brood for brood, be glad I did not include your brood in my revenge.” she hissed, already sensing the cold steel of the swords and other weapons being thrust towards her.
Although personally not involved with the Naga killed two years earlier, the revenge carried out in their name fulfilled her more than she anticipated.
Itvwas way more severe than broken wings and a chopped off stinger, along wih her blood, life itself was seeping bout of her body into the dirt of the courtyard. In the sky above the infinite salvation awaited her searching, and fading vision.
Next to her the king was plummeting to the ground, he stared at her with a mixture of shock, hatred and lust.
Soon his life would end. Comforted by that thought she let the darkness envelop her, the icy darkness that grew as her strength waned.

Crappy Birthday in July


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“Wear me, I’m a bear!”
This golden plushed, glamorous-flamboyant, surely malignant, loud abomination, is the newest footwear from the good folks at Adidas. And for a laughable prize of 89.99-110 Euros it can be yours.

If you know someone who needs to express their extravaganza in the most “glamboyant” way, so loud that Ray Charles and Elton John both are screaming in agony for that person to take their shoes off, then this little piece of plush and cloth with rubber sole is for you.
Yes. It is for men. Grown men, not little boys, not girls.
MEN.
The kind of men whose taste is so askew that it makes others believe a group of aliens has crashlanded and spawned that fella…

So if you need to give someone shoes, that will surely get them killed, and others around him infected with eye tumours – here. You’re welcome. Just watch for the smoke once shoes and wearer are set ablaze, plastic is unhealthy when burned…

Crappy Birthday!
A.

PS: Wanna get aay with murder? Strap these shoes on your victim, and ANYTHING that happened to the body will be considered suicide…