Jesse Noland's Blog, page 8

A Stepping Stone in the Right Direction

Ladies and Gentlemen, on June 26th 2015, the Supreme court had come to the conclusion that gay marriage would be legal throughout the United States of America with a vote of 5-4. This would overturn the fourteen states that had originally declined homosexual couples from the right of marriage. Throughout the country, the sounds of cheer filled the air as couples, young and old were given the rights that they were declined for so long. Though, this is only a stepping stone for true equality. While this vote allows couples to be married, it still does not protect against discrimination in either the work or social environment. One can only hope that this is just the beginning of a much needed change.

My personal thoughts, all I have to say is this; It doesn’t matter if you are straight, gay, bisexual, transsexual, or pan-sexual, love is love. Right now, I can only imagine that Harvey Milk is looking down at us with a smile across his face when he sees how far we have come. A person should have the right to be with the one they love, and there is no force on earth that should prohibit that, neither man or government. To the naysayers who say that marriage should be kept between a man and a woman, I have one thing to tell you. If thinking that two people should be allowed to marry, then I don’t want to be right.

Editing and Price Changes

Hello everyone, I have to apologize for the lack of updates and short stories. I have been busy as of late from both College and Work. Anyway, there are a few updates that need to be addressed.

Thanks to fellow author Alex Hansen, he has provided both an honest review of Dead Boys for Amazon (You can read it here) as well as insight to what I needed to edit. I think that he is a funny writer and you should definitely check him out.
After reading some of the commentary made by the people of Reddit, I would have to agree with them that the prices of the kindle versions of both Experiment Twenty Six and Dead Boys were set too high. So, Dead Boys has been reduced in price to $4.99 rather than the original $7.99 and Experiment Twenty Six will follow in suit as soon as editing is finished.
Progress is being made on the sequel for Experiment Twenty Six, but it still has a long way to go.

That is all for now, and I promise, the next update will not be another update like this.

Far Cry Four Fan-fiction—Chapter Two: Shooting in the Valley

Here is the next chapter in the Far Cry Fan-fiction that I am currently working on as a side project. I know it is a little short, but college has been taking up my time. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Two: Shooting in the Valley.

Ajay and Pagan traveled for a half hour in the helicopter over the valleys of Northern Kyrat. Ajay glanced out the window, looking out to the grassy knolls below him as he contemplated what to say.

“So, what now?” He asked, looking at Pagan with mixed expectations.

“Well Ajay, it is up to you. In no means am I going to hold you here against your will, but it’s your choice if you decide to stay. All I want is to spend some time with you, learn what my son has been doing for the past twenty four years.” Pagan answered truthfully.

It both startled and relieved Ajay to hear that Pagan had no intentions of harming him, but he was concerned with how Pagan called him his ‘son’. He never knew either Mohan Ghale or Pagan Min for an extended period of time, but he did not know if he would be quick to call Pagan his ‘father’.

The helicopter slowed down as it prepared to land in one of the valleys, the force of the blades pushed the tall grasses back as the transport hit the ground. One of the pilots stepped out from his seat, running to the side to open the doorway for Ajay and Pagan. Just as before, Pagan was the first to step out of the helicopter.

“Thank you Prem. Is everything all set up?” He asked the soldier.

“Everything has been set up for you and the American Glorious Leader.” The solder replied.

“That American is my son, so if you don’t want to be the demon fishes’ lunch, you will address him as such. Do you understand me?” Pagan asked as he glared menacingly into the soldier’s eyes.

“I understand sir.” The soldier replied as Ajay stepped out of the helicopter to survey the area around him.

To the south of him, there was a dense forest that extended for what seemed to be over a mile. On the top of the hill to the right of them, there was another gravel road, where three soldiers are lined up as they kept a watchful eye over them. To the front of the helicopter, several paper targets are set up in the field, spread apart from each other. Close by to them, there is a lone wooden table standing in the middle of the tall grass, covered with various guns of different sizes.

“What are we doing here?” Ajay asked. Pagan put his thin hand to his head, shaking it at the question.

“My boy, we are here to shoot some guns. A much deserved…bonding time between father and son.” He replied as he approached the table and purveyed the guns. He ran his fingers across the guns, humming to himself as he came to a decision. “Here we go…” He picked up a handgun, holding it in the air to examine it before he turned back to Ajay. “So, tell me Ajay. Have you ever fired a gun before?” Pagan asked, curious to know of what experience he had.

“No. No, I haven’t.” Ajay answered honestly.

“Well, It’s better to learn now than never…” Pagan said as he approached Ajay, handing the handgun to him. Ajay held the sleek handgun in his hand, feeling the weight of it. “…That is a Mark IV handgun. Consider it a welcome home present.” Pagan placed his left hand on Ajay’s shoulder and turned him around to face the targets. “Go on. Give it a try, and don’t worry. I will not judge you for aiming for the closest target.” Pagan said as he stepped back a few feet.

Ajay debated with himself of what to do next. In his hands was a handgun he could use to escape from Pagan and leave Kyrat. But he knew that he would be apprehended by the soldiers again if he tried anything. He ultimately decided to go along with Pagan’s plan, taking aim at one of the targets in the field. His pistol raised, his hand wobbled as it tried to aim at the bull’s-eye. He firmly pressed his finger against the trigger, firing a round at the target. The bullet flied to the target, striking it high and to the right of the bull’s-eye.

“Not bad for a first shot, but you are making a few mistakes.” Pagan said as he approached Ajay. “Your pose is too stiff. Don’t lock your back and arms…Keep your feet spread apart like this…”He posed himself to resemble what the proper form was supposed to look like. Ajay nodded before he changed his stance to match Pagan’s. He raised his pistol again to take aim at the same target. He pulled the trigger again, this time hitting closer to the bull’s-eye. “See? A noticeable improvement over your earlier shot.” Pagan congratulated Ajay, patting him on the back.

“So, Pagan…” Ajay began to say, before being interrupted by Pagan.

“Please Ajay. Call me ‘dad’, at least for my sake.” Pagan asked.

“Alright ‘dad’. Tell me, how did you meet my mother?” Ajay asked as he lowered his pistol, pointing it to the ground. Pagan sighed as he thought back to the first time he met Ishwari.

“It was when I first joined The Royalists against the current regime that controlled Kyrat that I saw your mother. She was…young and fierce. She was dedicated to the cause and wanted for order to be restored. There were so many different warring factions that wanted to control the region, but her presence in the Royalists kept me with that faction. When I took control of Kyrat, I lost sight of her.” Pagan explained before walking back to the gun covered table, picking up an assault rifle.

“After you took control of Kyrat, how did you two meet up again?” Ajay asked as he watched Pagan raise the rifle to take aim at one of the targets. He fired the rifle twice, hitting close to the bull’s-eye.

“So close…Ah, I’ll blame it on the wind.” Pagan commented as he saw where his bullets went. “To answer your question, your mother found her way to me. When the Golden Path was established to overthrow my rule, Mohan was adamant on not having women fight, despite Ishwari’s protests. So, he decided to have her spy on me instead…his own wife, having just given birth to you. He risked his own wife’s life just for some fucking information…” Pagan said in anger as he fired at the target again, hitting closer to the bull’s eye. “She eventually found her way working in my palace as one of the servants.”

“Did you immediately recognize her?” Ajay asked as he raised his pistol to shoot again. He fired twice at the target, his aim improved with each shot.

“I did. One of the guards was harassing her for spilling tea on his shirt. I stopped him from striking Ishwari. We spent the night talking about what happened to us following the Royalist uprising. She told me how she was…abandoned by Mohan after being impregnated with you. As I said, Mohan was a cunt. So, after some time, I offered my home to both Ishwari and you.” Pagan responded as he rose the rifle to rest against his shoulder.

“I see.” Ajay commented. One of the soldiers approached the two of them, holding a silver platter with two glasses and a tall bottle of alcohol. Pagan immediately takes one of the glasses before turning to Ajay.

“Ah…Thank you Vidur. Would you like a drink Ajay? It’s Macallan 1939, I have a few bottles in stock for special occasions such as this.” Pagan asked as the soldier approached Ajay with the platter.

“Sure…” Ajay answered hesitantly. He took the glass from the platter and held the cold glass in his free hand. Vidur backed away, giving them their peace. Pagan raised his glass, gesturing for Ajay to the same.

“To Ishwari…A wonderful woman who was the better of us. May she rest in peace.” Pagan toasted. They clinked the glasses together before they take a taste of the expensive alcohol. While Pagan let out a sigh of enjoyment from the toffee tasting whiskey, Ajay let out a cough at the taste, surprised at how strong it was.

“Strong isn’t it? It is an acquired taste for most, but I will tell you one thing…It will put hair on your chest.” Pagan said as he pat Ajay on the back, letting out a short lived laugh that followed. Ajay let out a light smile that Pagan was quick to notice. “See? There it is… I haven’t seen your smile since you were a young boy. I have to say, it’s beautiful.” Pagan complimented as he admired Ajay’s smile.

“Thanks.” Ajay replied.

“Sir!” One of the soldiers shouted at them, interrupting their good time. Pagan turned to reply to the soldier to ask what was going on that was important enough to interrupt them.

“What is it Girish?” Pagan asked in an annoyed tone of voice.

“Behind you!” Girish answered. Ajay and Pagan turned to see that from the wooded area behind them, a large Asian rhino was emerging. The soldiers raised their weapons to take aim at the beast.

“Holy shit…” Ajay said, unsure of how to react, dropping the whiskey. Pagan sat the glass down on the ground slowly.

“Ajay, listen to me carefully. Do not make any sudden movements…Rhinos are very near sighted and are quick to charge.” Pagan instructed as the rhino approached them. It stopped a few meters away from them to eat some of the tall grass. For a while, the rhino appeared to have no interest in any of the people around them. Pagan turned to Girish to call out to him.

“Girish. Make the call to get us alternative transportation.” He ordered Girish before facing Ajay. “Ajay. We need to get to the road. Follow me slowly.” Pagan told him, gesturing to the nearby road. Ajay nodded his head slowly, agreeing with him.

With their guns in hand, they began to make their way to the nearby road. Just as Girish finished making the call for transportation, but the radio made a loud hissing noise that stirred the attention of the rhino. It let out a grunt and ran its hoof across the ground, kicking up the dirt. Lowering its head, the prepared to charge at Ajay and Pagan.

“Shit!” Pagan shouted as he and Ajay aimed their weapons at the rhino. The grey skinned beast began its charge at them as the other soldiers opened fire. Though it has been hit several times, it continued to run towards them. Ajay and Pagan fire their guns at the beast as it approached, hoping to stop it.

“Look out!” Ajay cried as the two of them jumped to get out of the rhino’s path. Ajay found himself squatting in the shadow of the hulking beast as he tried to back away from it. Pagan was quick to return to his feet and take aim at the brute.

“Get the hell away…from my son!” Pagan shouted as he continued to fire his rifle at the rhino. The rhino turned to face Pagan and ran towards him. Ajay got back up and fired his pistol at the beast. Pagan weaved past the rhino, missing it by the smallest amount. Ajay, Pagan, and the soldiers continue to fire their weapons on the Rhino, hoping to end its rampage. After a while, the rhino slowed to a crawl, wobbling as it approached Pagan. It let out a final groan as it fell to the ground, a loud impacting sound filled the nearby air.

Ajay and Pagan let out exhausted breaths as they tried to calm themselves down from the skirmish. Pagan approached Ajay to check on him.

“You alright old boy?” Pagan asked as he pat him on the back.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” Ajay told him as he gathered his bearings.

“You did well…You held your own and stood your ground…” Pagan began to say. He looked down at his now dirtied clothes, disgusted at what had happened. This was the second outfit he had ruined that day from one mishap or another. “My clothes…fucking ruined by this…beast!” Pagan shouted as he firmly kicked the rhino on its underside, nearly hurting himself. The soldiers approach them to ensure that the two of them are alright. Pagan calmed himself down, slowly breathing to regain control. “Right, this was an unforeseeable mishap, but it could have been prevented. I want to know who was responsible for overseeing the patrol of the area. Come on, don’t be shy.” Pagan inquired, wanting to know who was responsible.

The five soldiers were quiet as none of them wanted to incite Pagan’s wrath. One of the soldiers stepped forward, ready to face any consequences. A man in his forties, he was stoic and strong. His uniform was covered in patches, commemorating his service for Pagan.

“Sir, I was in charge of securing the area for you.” The soldier told him, bowing his head as a sign of respect. Pagan looked at the man and scoffed at the notion.

“And you did a fine job of it. Real…fucking secure!” Pagan shouted, gesturing to the deceased rhino behind him.

“I apologize sir. We tried out best to ensure that there would not be any problems.” The soldier apologized, trying to defend himself after what happened.

“So, I guess you presumed that a two thousand pound rhino would not be a problem.” Pagan said in an eerily calm voice.

“No, sir…” Before the soldier could say anything else, Pagan raised his rifle up to the guard’s face.

“We nearly were nearly fucking killed, you twat!” Pagan shouted, his face becoming twisted with emotion. The other guards stand back, allowing Pagan to exhume his anger on the soldier. They were used to seeing Pagan get angry when things went wrong and knew it would be best not to interfere. But before he can pull the trigger, Ajay intervened.

“Whoa, hold up! It is not his fault that the rhino attacked us. Let him go…Dad, please.” Ajay pleaded to Pagan to stop. Pagan’s finger hovered over the trigger as he prepared to kill the soldier. Though at the last moment, he pulled the rifle down to the ground. He let out a sigh as he put his free hand to his head. Pagan turned to briefly face his son.

“If you say so Ajay…” Pagan said. He pivoted back to the soldier who is relieved, but still nervous for what could come next. “…I want you, to thank my son for…convincing me to let you live. Though, if there is one more mistake, I will not hesitate to have you killed. Do you understand?”

“I understand sir…” The soldier said quickly, nodding his head. He approached Ajay and bowed to thank him. “Thank you for allowing me to live.”

“It’s not a problem.” Ajay told him. The man raised himself up and went back to the soldiers behind them. Pagan placed his hand on Ajay’s shoulder, patting him twice.

“I think that it’s high time that we head back home…” Pagan stated. He turned to face one of the soldiers to issue him an order. “Prem, prepare the helicopter to take us back.”

“Understood sir.” Prem said immediately. He darted to the helicopter, climbing in and starting it. Pagan pulled out his cellphone from his pocket and turned it on.

“Girish. I think a moment like this is one that is best photographed. Would you kindly do us the honor?” Pagan asked, holding out the phone for Girish to use. The soldier agreed and grabbed the phone. He held it up to position it. “Come on Ajay, let’s pose in front of your first kill.”

Ajay nodded in agreement and walked with Pagan to the fallen beast. They both kneel down to the ground with their firearms positioned in front of them. Pagan wrapped his arm around Ajay’s neck to bring him closer.

“Alright, smile.” Girish asked. Both Ajay and Pagan let out a light smile for him, allowing him to take the photo. The phone made a shuttering noise as Girish took the photo. He approached Pagan to return the phone when he was finished.

“I will need to get this framed.” Pagan said after examining the photo’s quality. The helicopter whirred as the blades began to spin rapidly. “Come on, I think it is time we get some dinner. Shall we?” Pagan suggested, gesturing for Ajay to follow him. The two of them got on the helicopter, strapping themselves in to head home. Finally having caught his breath, Ajay began to speak about the recent event.

“That was intense.”

“Well, nothing in life will prepare you for a charging rhino.” Pagan commented.

“You never told me where you learned to shoot a gun.” Ajay remarked.

“That was a long time ago…” Pagan said as he thought back to all those years ago when he first shot a gun. “My father taught me how to fire a pistol when I was seven. He was a mid-level drug boss in the Sun Yee On, so naturally he brought me into the lifestyle at a young age.” He told Ajay. “But that is a story for another day.”

The helicopter continued its flight toward Pagan’s home as the sun began to set.

Far Cry Four Fanfiction—Chapter One: Introductions and Crab Rangoon

Hello everyone. Today is the start of something different. I am releasing the first part of a fanfiction of the critically acclaimed video game Far Cry Four. Now, let me tell you where the urge to write this fanfiction came from. I have been a fan of fanfiction for some time and I have enjoyed the Far Cry games, so I decided, why not kill two birds with one stone one evening? Searching a few websites, I found that the majority of Fanfiction was written with the lead characters (ex. Ajay and Pagan) engaging in violent sadomasochistic sex or it was based on newly created characters based in the world. Now the next part of my explanation has some spoilers, so if you have not finished or played the game, please pick it up. It is a good game with a great story and a lot of in game humor.

Now, there are three primary endings for this game. The first two are unlocked by playing through the main game and progressing through the story. However, there is a third ending that results from if you do as Pagan Min asks and wait for him to return. You ultimately spread the ashes of Ajay’s mother and Pagan offers to shoot some ‘goddamn guns’ with Ajay. Now, I felt that there is a lack of fanfiction designed to tell the father/son relationship between Pagan Min and Ajay Ghale after the events of the game. So, I have decided to create a fanfiction about their relationship.

The first chapter is essentially the first cut scene of where Ajay and Pagan meet as well as the alternative ending of the game. The actual fanfiction will begin in chapter two, but the first chapter is to help establish the story. I hope you enjoy it.

Nearly forgot the legal message. I do not own the rights or any property related to Far Cry 4 or it’s characters. It is the sole property of Ubisoft games. This fanfiction contains foul language, violence, sexual innuendo, and spoilers.

Far Cry Four Fanfiction: Ajay Ghale & Pagan Min.

Written by Jesse Noland.

Chapter One: Introductions and Crab Rangoon

            The sun shined brightly over the Nepali mountainside, warming the forests below. The local animal life’s song spanned for miles, allowing the mountain’s inhabitants to listen in to their symphony. The buildings sparse and distant from each other, they shared the stories and cultures of their makers. Large statues sat outside of these the prestigious temples, a reminder to the people of their gods.

Along one of the beaten roads, a lone bus traveled. It had seen better days as the once bright green paint began to peel and the metal frame bent from years of overbearing weight. Despite its age, it still managed to be the relied transportation of Kyrat’s people who had made their livings working the land.

Inside of the bus, a young man holding a silver urn sat with his back firmly against the bus. His breath heavy with anxiety, he was unsure of what to expect. All he knew about Kyrat was from what his mother, Ishwari told him when he was a boy and the stories he had heard from the news. Despite the warnings that he had received, he decided to follow through with his mother’s final request. He still remembered the day that she asked him to do this, she laid on her bed, surrounded by her close friends and what family she had in the United States. Her last words to her son were ‘Ajay, my son. I have but one last wish. Take me back to Lakshmana’.

He tried his best to focus on the task ahead of him, but he found it difficult to concentrate. His attention was drawn to the nearby macaque, as it tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. One of the nearby women tapped the monkey on its head, to get it to stop. Her cigarette smoke hovered over to him, he let out a cough as it reached him. The young man glanced out the window to gaze upon the snow covered mountain tops that surrounded them. He had never seen mountains that spanned that far when he lived in the United States. At most, he had only seen hilltops, not mountains. In the distance, he heard the faint sound of a radio broadcast playing a woman’s voice saying ‘May Pagan’s light shine upon you’.

He pulled out his phone, entering his pin and tapping the screen to search through the options before him. He finally reached his voicemail, where there is an unheard message waiting for him. It was over a day old, from when he was crossing India’s border into Kyrat. He wanted to answer it before, but he was distracted at the time. With a single tap, he began to listen to it.

“Mr. Ghale, this is Chet Peterson from the US embassy of Patna. Uh…I am calling you pursuant to the tourist visa for India with further travel to Kyrat. We can only accept your status as a US citizen as we have no official records regarding your Kyrati citizenship. Furthermore, I must legally advise you against traveling into Kyrat. We have no official diplomatic presence in Kyrat due to the civil unrest with the Golden Path. In regards with your intent to bring with you the cremated remains of one ‘Ishwari Ghale’, you need to bring with you the passport for the deceased…” The message continued for some time before he ended the voicemail. He shook his head when he heard this, not wanting to believe that his mother’s home country was a dangerous place.

Across from him, his guide Darpan sat contently. An older man, he had let his grizzled black beard grow. His face had shown the experiences he had been through with the scarred cuts on his face. Darpan leaned forward and began to speak to him.

“Hey. Passport…” He gestured for the young man to give him his passport. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled the passport, handing it over to Darpan. He quickly took it from the young man’s hand and opened it, glancing at its contents for a moment. Reaching into his black jeans, he pulled out a red tinted banknote and placed it inside of the passport before handing it back. “Breathe. I do the talking.” Darpan told him, gesturing for the young man to relax. Glancing down at the passport, he examined the bill and saw the image of a man unfamiliar to him. In the lettering below the picture, it read ‘May Pagan’s light shine upon you’.

The bus soon came to a crawl as it reached the Royal Army military checkpoint. Despite the best effort that the young man could afford, he found it difficult to keep calm. From the front of the bus, he heard the driver instructing the passengers to pass their passports forward. The young man did as he was requested, passing his documents, along with the other passengers’ beside him forward. The macaque beside him tried to take his passport in a playful gesture, but is stopped by the woman beside him striking him on his head. She scowled at the furry imp, raising her arm as a warning to it. The creature screeched at the woman in retaliation, but does not fight back.

The young man glanced out the window to see the soldiers inspecting the bus, keeping a watchful eye out for anything that could be suspicious. They paced around the side of the bus, using a mirror to check the underside of the bus. He heard the driver casually conversing with one of the soldiers as it was routine. Though it was apparent that something was wrong.

“What’s happening?” The young man asked. Darpan gestured for him to keep quiet, hushing him as they listened to the situation. They look outside as the driver began to argue with one of the soldiers, despite having the collected passports slapped from his hand. Another soldier approached the bus, looking at the underside of the bus. It was soon apparent that the soldiers had found something. From the distance, the young man heard a faint whirring sound. Looking toward the sky, he saw a black helicopter approaching them.

The soldier closest to the bus called out for the leader to come to him to see what was on the underside of the bus. Two of the men that were sitting beside the young man took heed of the discovery, forcing the door behind them open and darting out. The soldiers noticed their attempted escape, turning their attention to them. Within moments, they raised their assault rifles and took aim. It was not before long that they began to shoot them down, their gunfire echoed through the mountain air. From behind the soldiers, the driver pulled out a side arm and began to fire upon the soldiers. He quickly killed one of the soldiers and injured the captain before them realizing what had happened. They turn on him, firing their rifles, ending the driver’s life.

The soldiers soon focused their attention on the bus, where the young man still watched in horror. They opened fire on the bus, taking aim at the passengers. The glass from the window shattered, spreading its pieces across the bus.

“Oh fuck!” The young man said, feeling Darpan’s strong hand forcing him down to the cold metal floor of the bus.

“Get down!” Darpan barked to him, keeping the both of them safe for the moment. Bullets flew over them, through the metal frame of the bus, just barely missing both of them. They crawled to the back of the bus where the two passengers had escaped from before, forcing the door open to get outside. But as they get out, the helicopter landed before them, the wind pushing them back as easily as the foliage around them. The young man covered his eyes, trying to retain some of his vision as the light blinded them. The remaining soldiers ran to the back of the bus, their rifles held high as they surrounded Darpan and the young man. They ordered them to get down on the ground with their hands behind their heads. Glancing over, the young man saw that they had forced Darpan on his stomach. He looked back to the helicopter, seeing the door slide open to reveal a man stepping out.

A man of his mid-forties, he stood statuesque in front of the helicopter as it wound down to a near stop. His appearance was the essence of wealth and power, from his black designer coat to his stylized blonde hair drooped down across the top of his face. He approached the injured leader, surveying the scene around him with a look of disappointment. The man began to speak to the leader who is turned away from the man in shame.

“I distinctly remember saying stop the bus….” He paused for a moment, glancing down at the body of the driver for a moment before turning his attention back to the captain. “Yes. Stop the bus. Not shoot the bus. I am very particular with my word. Stop. Shoot. Stop. Shoot…” The man slowly said, voicing the differences between the words. “…Do these words sound the same?” He asked.

“But it got out of control.” The captain quietly muttered. The man had a hard time hearing the captain’s words. He reaches over to the captain, placing his hand on his injured shoulder as he reached into his coat pocket.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” The man asked.

“It got out of control.” The captain repeated, his voice became nervous as the man stepped closer. The man pulled out a large gold plated pen from his coat, holding it for a moment in his hand.

“Out of control…I hate when things get out of control.” The man said. He soon plunged the pen into the captain’s neck, forcing him to the ground with the man in tow. Kneeling over the captain, he continued to plunge the pen repeatedly into his neck. “You had one fucking job and you couldn’t fucking do that!” The man growled as he became covered in the captain’s blood with each movement.

The captain lets out a gurgled death rattle as he finally died from his injuries. Exhausted, the man fell to the ground beside the captain, taking in what he had down. His breath heavy, it was evident that the one act was physically exhausting for him. He looked down to his leather shoes, disgusted that he managed to get them bloodied. “And I got blood on my fucking shoes!”

He soon turned his attention the young man who had watched the murder attentively. The man waved his arm as if to say ‘voila’.

“At least there’s a silver lining… You didn’t completely fuck it up.” The man said as he picked himself off of the ground looking intensively at the young man. He reaches over to him, picking up the young man off of the ground. “Get up boy…” The young man’s breath was heavy as he got back onto his feet. “I recognize those eyes anywhere.”

The man smiled as he said this, chuckling before embracing the young man much to his confusion. He can feel the man’s hot breath against the bare skin of his neck as he is being held. He was unsure of what to make of the situation. The man released himself from the young man, as he gazed upon him with contentment and regret.

“I’m so sorry about this. This was supposed to be…” He glanced back at the scene behind him for a moment before continuing his statement. “…Well, not this.” The man firmly grabbed the young man’s shoulder, bringing him forward and away from the bus. “We have a party waiting for you, but I don’t think I know your name.” He crouched down to Darpan, who still lied on the gravel road with his face covered. “Who is this? Hmm? Is he your plus one?” The man inquired, glancing back to the young man for a moment. The man gestured towards Darpan, but he does not get the response he wanted. “Strong silent type. I like it.”

As the man rose, one of the soldiers walked toward Darpan, picking him up from the ground.

“I am terribly embarrassed by about all of this. This was supposed to be very simple, but you know…” As he said this, the soldier covered Darpan’s head with a burlap bag before binding his hands behind his back as Darpan let out a short expression of discomfort. The soldier pushed Darpan forward, escorting him away from the both of them. “…if you give food to the monkeys, they just throw their shit at each other.”

The man glanced down at the bloodied pen, almost forgetting that he was holding it.

“Oh, will you hold this?” The man gaspingly asked, handing the bloodied pen to the young man, who slowly accepted it. As he held the pen, he contemplated using the pen in a similar manner as he saw before, but knew that he would be shot almost immediately. “Just a moment…I want to get a little picture…”The man pulled a smart phone from the back of his fuchsia pants pocket, holding it in front of the both of them. He pulled himself close to the young man to ensure that they were both in the picture’s frame. “…Right into the camera. There we are.” The camera reflected their current emotions; the man excited for the photo opportunity, while the young man looked frightened and confused. The camera clicked as the man took the photo of the both of them and pulled it close to examine it.

“Awesome.” One of the soldiers tossed a torch toward the back of the bus, starting a roaring fire that quickly grew. The man glanced back with a smile on his face before continuing to speak. “Don’t worry about a thing my boy. This will soon be behind us…” The man pulled him around and proceeded to escort him to the helicopter. The young man glanced down for one last time to look at the lifeless body of the captain. “…and we’ll be off on a grand adventure.” The man stepped away from the young man, walking closer to the helicopter before turning to face him. “Because I have…cleared my calendar for you!” He said, gesturing to the young man. “You…and… I… are going to tear shit up!” He shouted as he threw his fists into the air.

Before the young man could react, another soldier approached him from behind, covering his head with a burlap sack. Blind to the world around him, he didn’t know what awaited him.

For the next two hours, the young man was escorted by the Royal Army in the back of a truck that shook more than the bus did as it traveled down the road. He was fearful of what to expect next from his captors, knowing what they were capable of. His breath was heavy, he felt his own hot breath against his face as he began to panic. From time to time, he heard some of the soldiers shouting at people as they passed, firing a few rounds to either serve a warning or worst. He did not know what happened to his guide Darpan, whether the Royal Army killed him or had plans to interrogate him.

It wasn’t long before the truck came to a stop, the soldiers reaching their destination. One of the soldiers ordered the young man to his feet, pulling him up to escort him. The young man stumbled as he stepped out of the truck, the soldier continuing to relay orders. From in front of him, he heard a set of large doors opening. Once he was brought in, he could tell that he was not in a prison, but a palace. Though he could not see, he felt the carpeted floor below him. The soldiers forced him through the large hallway before him, and took him up several flights of stairs, each step creaked as they ascended. Through the burlap bag over his head, he smelled the wafting aroma of artesian food. The young man is forced down to a cushioned chair. His breath became heavier as he awaited what was in store for him, listening to the man from before speak.

“…Give my congratulations to Ashley on your next visit home.” With what light pierced the burlap sack, the young man made out distorted images of where he was, but he wasn’t sure. He had no choice but to continue to listen to his kidnapper. “I must say Paul, your little corner of Kyrat is rather beautiful. I expected more, chains and wailing. But, knowing you, somewhere around here is a dark place where the secrets flow like the blood.” The young man could see his kidnapper taking a seat across from him as he let out a short lived laugh. “That wry smile betrays you again ‘De Pleur’… Well go on, take the bloody bag off of his head.” The man ordered.

The bag is quickly removed from the young man’s head, the light distorted his vision as he tried to make sense of the situation. It was a surprise to him that he was placed at a dining table with assorted dishes before him. What stood out the most for him was the centerpiece of the table, lit candles that were surrounded with macaque heads. He wanted to gag out of disgust at the sight, but with the adrenaline that still flowed through his body, he could not.

He quickly looked to his left and saw an American, dressed in a combination of casual and military styled clothing. The young man simply assumed that the American was De Pleur, but he did not know his relation to his kidnapper. The young man eventually turned his attention to his kidnapper, who had his mother’s ashes sitting on the table in front of him.

“Again, terribly sorry for what happened before.” The man began to speak. The young man turned to see Darpan sitting beside him, his face reflected his current fear for the situation. This, is more what I had in mind.” He quickly cleared his voice, putting is hands together. “So, fresh start…Introductions. Ajay Ghale, our guest of honor;” He quickly gestured to the young man to introduce him to his right hand man and Darpan. “Paul, our very gracious host.” De Pleur nodded his head to Ajay to greet him. The man soon turned to Darpan, to introduce him. “The little monkey, whose name I still don’t know. And I, of course, am Pagan Min.”

Ajay at last had a name to connect to his kidnapper, but did not know what to expect. He had heard the name before mentioned on the news, but it was sparse and varied. Pagan looked at Ajay with a combined look of confusion and disappointment as he hoped that he would get a different reaction from the young man. But Ajay looked at him with the same confusion as Pagan had.

“You really don’t remember me, do you? Your mother, she never spoke of me, never mentioned me?” Pagan asked him. He shrugged his head, accepting that Ajay did not remember him. “Oh, we’ll change all that. Paul, I need cash.” Pagan stated as he turned briefly to Paul to make his request.

“Uh, how much do you need?” Paul asked as he reached into his sling bag to pull out his beige leather wallet, extending it to Pagan.

“All of it.” Pagan replied, taking all of the colored bills from Paul’s wallet. “Thank you. Here we are. Ah. Hmm?” He held the first of the bills next to his head, changing his expression to match the image on the bill. He scoffed at Ajay’s nonexistent reaction, tossing the bill on the table before him before holding another bill next to his face. “All right, how about this, with the smile?” Pagan smiled to reflect the image printed on the banknote, with the hope to elicit a response from Ajay. He dropped the bill onto the table as he did before as he pulled the last banknote up to his head with a growing scowl of annoyance on his face. Ajay finally decided to speak up.

“That’s you.” He said in a quiet tone.

“That’s me.” Pagan responded, finally having received the response that he wanted. He turned the bill toward himself, looking at the photo that he had printed on it. He quickly contemplated how he became the ruler of Kyrat and how it had changed him over the years. He dropped the remaining bill on the table before continuing to speak. “Although I’m not so sure anymore.”

Ajay quickly glanced at Darpan, who tried his best to keep a strong face toward Pagan and De Pleur. It made Ajay question what his guide had in store.

“Now, your mother, your mother on the other hand, she understood me.” Pagan stated as he picked up the silver urn, removing the lid to examine the contents. Ajay stood up to try and stop Pagan from purveying the urn, but is stopped by Paul who pressed his firm hand against Ajay, shaking his head. Pagan took a smell of the ashes before speaking again. “She knew me in a way that no one ever did.” Pagan took his finger, running along the inside of the urn until his finger was dirtied with ash. Tasting the ashes, he savored the unique flavor. “Mm…That takes me back. The last time I saw Ishwari was years ago. She told me she loved me. Women, they can do that. They can tell you they love you in the moment and mean it, men on the other hand. No, men only really love you in hindsight. When too much distance has built up.”

Pagan examined the urn, taking in Ishwari’s name and age embedded in the metal plating before sitting it down on the table in front of them. He thought back to the time he had spent with Ishwari and how it was both pleasurable and painful for him. The memories of when Ishwari left for the United States still pained him to the very day.

“So, when your mother decided to flee with you to the United States with you on her hip, I couldn’t help but to blame myself.” Pagan confided in Ajay as he raised himself from the table with one of the forks in hand. He slowly walked to Darpan, standing over him. “Then I realized it, it’s not me. No. It was the fucking Golden Path!” He slammed Darpan’s head into the table before forcing the silver fork into his back. Darpan tried his best not to give into the sudden pain, withholding his desire to scream. “Those fucking terrorists, they ruin everything.” He told Ajay before turning his attention back to Darpan. “Like Dinner! Did no one ever teach you that it’s rude to text at the table?” He asked, noticing the brightly lit cellphone under Darpan’s left hand. “Let’s see it. Give me the phone!”

Pagan forcibly struck Darpan’s hand until he moved it forward, giving Pagan what he wanted. As he picked up the phone, Pagan held it high, displaying to the soldiers standing in the corners of the room for them to see.

“Really guys? We’re not checking for these anymore?” He asked, disappointed in the soldier’s inability to perform a thorough body search. He glanced down to the phone, reading the message that Darpan had managed to send out. “Ah… “I’m with Ajay Ghale.”” He quickly glanced at Paul to remind him to pay attention. “You will love this part. “Help.””. Pagan turned the phone to show the text’s dialogue to both Ajay and Paul, having found humor in the attempt. “A text for help?” He asked, turning his attention back to Darpan. “You don’t text for help, you cry for help. So come on, you’re going to cry for help. You’re going to do something, you’re going to do it right. Here we go!”

Pagan twisted the fork in Darpan’s back, pulling him to his feet as he was dragged to the nearby balcony. They both felt the cold wind against their faces as they looked at the mountain pass. Darpan cried in pain as he reached the railing.

“Go on…cry for help. Cry for help.” Pagan ordered as he forced the fork further into the Darpan’s back.

“H-Help…” Darpan cried quietly, though he found it difficult to speak. The pain in his back was too much for him to bear any longer.

“Aw, pathetic. No. Cry for help.” Pagan ordered as he raised his voice.

“Help…” Darpan cried again, his voice raised higher than before.

“Like you mean it, boy!”

“Help!” Darpan finally shouted as he began to give into Pagan’s order.

“Help! From your Diaphragm! Help!” Pagan shouted. He twisted the fork deeper into Darpan’s back to get him to scream louder.

“Help!” Darpan screamed for one final time before being silenced by Pagan.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. Now we listen…” They listened to the world outside, waiting for any form of response, but they heard nothing. ”…nothing. I’m afraid they’re not coming for you buddy.” Pagan let out a short lived laugh before removing the bloodied fork from Darpan’s back. As he walked back, Pagan turned to his soldiers to give them an order. “Find out what he knows.”

The soldiers did as he asked, taking Darpan by force and escorted him away from the dining room. Pagan returned to the table and picked up his phone.

“Terrorists, right?” Pagan asked as Ajay watched Darpan escorted into a separate room, fearful of what would happen to him. “Now, please, stay right here. Enjoy the Crab Rangoon. Don’t move. I will be right back.” Pagan asked casually as he stepped away from the table to make his call. It was a surprise for Ajay to see Pagan change personalities as if what just happened was an everyday occurrence. “Yuma. We need to talk.” He said into his phone as he walked into the next room, closing the doors behind him.

After watching Pagan leave the room to make his call, Ajay stood himself up from the table to grab the urn containing Ishwari’s ashes. He took the nearby lid and sealed the contents to ensure that they were safe. For the next ten minutes, Ajay paced around the room, contemplating what to do next. Part of him wanted to flee from Pagan and try to find Lakshmana on his own. But, he feared how powerful Pagan Min and his Royal Army was. If they were able of finding him before, what was stopping them from finding him again? His heart pounded heavily in his chest, despite the adrenaline from before being worn off, he was still excited at what had happened. No matter what he decided, he would put his life at risk. He soon came to the choice of waiting for Pagan to return.

Ajay sat himself back down at the table as he stared at the Crab Rangoon before him. He found it difficult to eat, despite not eating for almost a day. He pushed the dumplings across the plate, trying to find his appetite. Having given into his hunger, he took one of the dumplings and popped into his mouth. The taste succulent, it was more delicious than anything he had eaten in the United States. His mother tried her best in life to prepare meals that were traditional to the Kyrati people. As he ate, he wondered how close his mother was to Pagan. The way that Pagan spoke about her, he spoke as if they were once lovers.

As Ajay finished the Crab Rangoon, he heard the doors to his right opening. He saw Pagan return, having removed the jacket and the top buttons of his dress shirt undone.  An expression of relief was on Pagan’s face as he saw that Ajay was waiting patiently for him to return.

“Oh, fan-bloody-tastic. You sir, are a gentleman. I sincerely apologize. We saw terrorists in the area, and yada yada.” He said as he leaned against the nearby wall. “The Crab Rangoon, right? It’s…” Pagan tried to say before he was interrupted by the sound of a man screaming. Ajay recognized the voice and realized that they were torturing Darpan. Pagan looked past the screaming to continue speaking. “…fabulous. Mm! Well, come on, let’s go!” He said as he gestured to Ajay to follow him. Ajay did as he asked, raising himself from the table with the urn in hand.

Ajay followed Pagan outside of De Pleur’s palace to where a helicopter was waiting for them to enter. One of the soldiers slid the door for them to enter. Pagan was the first to step into the helicopter and held out his hand for Ajay to grab to help him in. Ajay grabbed Pagan’s hand firmly as he followed suit. The soldier closed the door behind them and rapped twice to tell the pilot that they were clear.

It was a half hour trip in silence for the two of them. Ajay was still unsure of what to expect next out of Pagan, having heard Darpan’s torture. Pagan was as relaxed as he was before, he leaned back against the cushioned paneling as he played with his phone. He glanced up at Ajay and saw that he was distraught.

“Oh relax my boy. We are nearly there…” As he said this, they heard the phone make a chiming noise, notifying Pagan of a message. He glanced down to his phone and let out a smile. “That’s lovely. Kayne just retweeted my tweet.”

“Kayne? Kayne West?” Ajay asked.

“Yes, that Kayne. Do you follow him on Twitter? It’s gold. Oh, I would love to shoot the breeze with that young man.” Pagan looked outside the window to see that they were approaching his palace. Over the intercom, they heard the pilot relay their arrival.

“ETA four minutes.”

“We’re here.” Pagan said as the pilot began to lower the helicopter.

“…Three point landing!” Pagan said as the helicopter landed firmly on the ground. Ajay watched one of the soldiers run around the helicopter to open the door for them as Pagan continued to speak. “You know…Part of me is surprised your mother asked for you to bring her all the way back here. Ah.” He said as the door opened for them. Pagan rose up from his seat to step out of the helicopter. “Thank you, Kamran!”

“You want me to follow you…” Ajay asked, hesitant to leave the helicopter to follow Pagan, who turned around to face him with an expression of annoyance at his question.

“Jesus Christ. Yes boy, the ashes aren’t going to scatter themselves!” Pagan answered as he gestured for Ajay to follow him. The young man was reluctant to follow him, but decided to do as he asked, stepping out of the helicopter to follow Pagan. The helicopter’s blades came to a crawl as the engine died. As they walked toward the nearby shrine, Pagan was compelled to ask Ajay a question. “Did your mother ever tell you about your father?”

“Never. No.” Ajay answered truthfully. He quickly thought back to the numerous times that he would ask his mother about his father, but she would change the subject every single time. He just presumed that his father left his mother when he was young.

“Mohan…” Pagan began to say before stopping in his track. Though he was quick to resume speaking. “…the great protector of the Golden Path.” He let out a short lived scoff before continuing his sentence, leaning in close to Ajay for a moment. “He was a cunt.” As they continued to walk, Pagan decided to tell Ajay the truth about his mother. “He whored your mother out, sent her to spy on me. But we fell in love, we had a child and that is when Mohan showed his true colors. He drove you and your mother away, even killed your sister, Lakshmana. Which brings us here.”

Pagan had led Ajay to the entrance of the decorated shrine where several lit candles illuminated the small room. What drew Ajay’s eye was the centerpiece of the shrine; an image of an infant girl, his sister, Lakshmana. It was a lot for Ajay to take in, he never thought his mother would have been in love with Pagan, let alone mothered a child with him. He became overrun with emotion as he found himself focused on the painting of his sister. Pagan put his hand on Ajay’s shoulder, an attempt to comfort him as he came to the realization of what had happened to his family. Ajay turned to Pagan to face him, unsure of what to expect.

“Lakshmana shouldn’t be alone anymore. I’m so glad we’re finally back together.” Pagan said as a smile grew on his face. He gestured for Ajay to enter the shrine to finish his task. “After you.”

Ajay slowly walked into the shrine as he approached the memorial before him. Pagan closed the door for him to give Ajay some needed privacy. A stone tablet sat before the painting of his sister, reading ‘In Loving Memory of Lakshmana Min. 1988-1989’. Another metal urn sat on top of the memorial with a black inlay of a peacock. He held up his mother’s urn for one last time as he wished her goodbye. He sat the urn down beside the one containing his sister, uttering a final prayer.

Ajay turned his back on the urns and approached the painted door, prepared to leave. He is hesitant to open the door, but he didn’t want to linger. As he opened to the door, the light blinded him for a moment but it didn’t hurt as bad as before. He turned to see Pagan leaning against the helicopter, waiting for Ajay to finish.

“Oh good. Do you feel better now? Get it out of your system?” Pagan asked as Ajay approached the helicopter. The helicopter’s blades began to rotate quickly as the pilot prepared to take off. “Good. And maybe now we can finally shoot some goddamn guns.” Pagan said as the two of them entered the helicopter.

The Characters of ‘Experiment Twenty Six’.

Contains some spoilers from the book.

Aiden Corsaige– A corporate thief who works alongside Jason Kelly and Quinn Kimura to steal information and prototypes from corporations for the highest bidder. He often finds himself doing more of the dirty work than his associates.

Jason Kelly– A corporate thief and Aiden’s longtime friend, he is a skilled computer hacker who will often hang back and let Aiden retrieve the information while keeping security off of them.

Serah– A little girl and the first genetically cloned human created by Cherub Pharmaceuticals. She is curious of the world around her and wants to constantly learn more.

Quinn Kimura– A part time lawyer and contractor, he gives Aiden and Jason assignments for them.

Catherine Oshenko– One of the leading scientists behind Serah’s development, she found herself growing attached to Serah paternally.

Frederick Petridis- CEO of Cherub Pharmaceuticals, he is actively involved in Serah’s creation and does his best to hide the work involved with it from the world.

William Petridis– Frederick’s partner, CSO, and husband, he knows of Frederick’s secretive work and does his best to help to support him.

Erick Froste– A British mercenary for hire, he had performed jobs for Frederick and William before.

Updates

Alright, it is time for updates.

Currently for the time being, I am continuing to work on Experiment Twenty Six: Serah’s Story in hopes that I will have a few more chapters finished.
Dead Boys  now has a new and improved cover designed by Hoang Viet Anh. You can see his portfolio on Deviant Art here.
After some thought, I have decided to rejoin Facebook and created an author’s page. Be sure to check it out for updates from time to time.
I am looking for people to submit reviews for Dead Boys for Amazon. First five people to comment will get a free kindle PDF version of Dead Boys.
George Reagan has put me into his Author’s spotlight on his website. Feel free to check it out here.

That is it for updates. Upcoming posts will include a chapter sample from another project, a short story, and a character listing for Experiment Twenty Six: Serah’s Story.

Portraying Religious Icons in a Comedic Light

Fair Warning: This article contains content discussing theological ideals and figures which might be not suited for some people. The author has tried his best to do his research on each of the religions mentioned. So, if you feel that you might be offended from this post, here is a link to a website with cute animals.

In one of my more recent projects Dead Boys, one of the people who had a chance to read it’s entirety told me that I was  going to Hell for my portrayal of God and Jesus Christ in the novel. Now, I can understand how what I have written can be interpreted as ‘offensive’ to religious organizations. But in my opinion, portraying religious icons such as Jesus or Buddha in a humorous light can be done, but it has to be done correctly. Creating the ideal form of satire whether it is political or religious is something that must be fine tuned and performed delicately. Let’s have a look at previous portrayals of religious icons and individuals that have raise some criticism over the years.

Let’s start off with Christianity, a faith that is worshiped by an estimated 2.18 billion people. Now, two of the most iconic figures of the religion would be God and Jesus of Nazareth, the son of God and savior of Mankind. Let’s first discuss the son of God, Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ has been used in several mediums over the years from novels, movies, video games, and even animated short films. Jesus has become cemented into common society through his teachings such as “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” as well as becoming an euphemism for expressing shock such as “Jesus H. Christ!” Jesus has over the years become commonly satirized in movies, books, and games whether if it is for his peaceful nature or his tolerance for mankind. One of the most well known satirical depictions of Jesus Christ would be from Kevin Smith’s movie Dogma. Jesus is depicted and mentioned in several different scenarios, the more memorable would be of the Buddy Christ. The statue of Jesus pointing has been the center of several jokes as becoming a purchasable item. With the release of this movie, Kevin Smith had received over 30,000 pieces of hate mail from conservative Christians as well as death threats. Kevin Smith could have easily made a mistake with his references and depiction of Jesus Christ, but he managed to ensure that Jesus’s peaceful nature was comedic without it becoming a mockery.
In every religion, there is either a god or several gods that have had an active role in man’s creation and the world around them. God has been depicted as several different identities from the commonly depicted image of an older man with a grey beard and flowing hair(Christianity), a younger man with multiple arms (Hinduism), a woman/goddess (Wicca) as well as other depictions. In recent years, God has become visualized as different creatures and beings often for comedic values. One of the most iconic images of God being a different entity would be the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Often seen as a ‘parody religion’, God is seen as a flying creature made of spaghetti with meatballs and two eyes, reaching out to people with his ‘noodly appendage’. One could argue that this is technically possible seeing as an omnipotent being like God could change his appearance to become anything or anyone, that he/she could become a flying spaghetti monster.

The next religion that is commonly satirized would also be the most controversial. I am talking of course of the Muslim faith, which is currently worshiped by an estimated 1.57 billion people.

The depiction of the prophet Muhammad would be seen as one of the more controversial religious icons to display as people and artists who create imagery of the messenger of the god Allah, have often been assaulted or killed by Muslims offended with their creations. Now, one of the primary reasons that the Muslim faith prohibits the display of imagery of the Prophet Muhammad would be because in their eyes, creating images of the prophet would mean that the person was worshiping the messenger of God rather than God himself. This would relate to the Christian concept and sin of Idolatry or the worship of idols. Although there is no specific message in the Quran about depicting Muhammad, many in the Muslim community would say that it is prohibited to create images of Muhammad due to some of the supplemental teachings or Hadith. Though there are also groups within the Muslim community who say that depicting Muhammad is alright if it is done in a good light. It is because of this that Muhammad is shown through different iconography such as calligraphy or figurative depictions. However, in recent years, artists and designers who have depicted the prophet in a satirical matter have been attacked by radical Muslims who believe that the depictions are heretical and blasphemous. The most recent being the Charlie Hebdo attack, which has left twelve people dead. The cause of this travesty would be the depiction of Muhammad, which shows him saying “100 lashes if you don’t die laughing.” Now, the saying by itself is relatively harmless but  because it depicted the prophet in a humorous manner, it was seen as controversial and offensive.

With depicting religious figures in a satirical manner, you have to do your research on the religion that you are going to portray. One example would be a personal favorite of mine, History of the World Part 1. In the movie, Mel Brooks shows that he has studied both the Hebrew and Christian faiths and used events such as Moses coming down from the mountain with the ten commandments of God and the last supper to make humorous jokes about each of them.

But in truth, despite the best efforts to create jokes that satirize religion, you are going to offend someone. While you can entertain some people, you will offend others. All I can suggest for writers is to do your research and try to refrain from directly bashing a religion.

Weird Thoughts: An Internet Musical?

I managed to get some free time over the weekend and decided to blow the dust off of the PS3 and play Grand Theft Auto 4. While I was driving through the virtual metropolis of Liberty City, one of the fictionalized advertisements played over the in-game radio advertising a musical entitled, WTF: A Tale of Online Love. The premise behind this musical was a ‘love story’ based on the internet.

Now, anyone who has played GTA or know of Rockstar’s work, would know that this is commentary about how large a part that Internet culture has in our lives as well as the weirder musicals that are shown on Broadway. The premise of a musical based on the internet seems like a stupid idea meant to cash out on a subject matter that is vast and almost impossible to describe. But, I think that it is possible to create an entire musical by not focusing on one particular story line, but rather a series of different stories focusing on several different concepts centralizing around the internet. I will give a few examples later, but let’s talk about the weirder side of Broadway.

Broadway and musicals in general have been known to take a different and strange approach when it comes to the creative process. The more traditional means of creating musicals has been to adopt other forms of media such as books and movies, turning them into musicals. This has been incredibly successful in creating musicals and plays that have captured the hearts and minds of people around the world such as Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables or ‘The Miserable Ones’ (1980) detailing the story of Jean Valjean as he tries to find redemption after twenty years of imprisonment as revolution looms overhead. Though some of the most successful musicals were not based on adaptions, but were created through creative writing such as The Music Man (1957) about Harold Hill, a con man who tricks a town into buying instruments and soon finds himself teaching the children how to play.

But as normal as some Broadway plays seem, there are always a few that makes people question what the playwright was thinking. Some of the better examples would be Cats (1980), Carrie (1988), Urinetown (2001), and many others. Now, I have nothing against Playwrights as a whole. I believe that there are many talented people who are capable of creating productions that leave lasting memories upon the masses, but I have to ask, ‘How did you come up with this?’. One of the more unlikely productions that I have seen personally was the Evil Dead Musical based on Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell’s Evil Dead Movies. I admit that it was incredibly funny to watch and would love to see it on Broadway. Another weird Broadway production that I have grown to know and love would be the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I originally saw it on VHS when I was young (parents were working a lot and my sister and I had access to the VCR and the vast collection of tapes) and we fell in love with it. It was not before long that we memorized the songs and were doing the Time Warp. Besides, Tim Curry could pull off the black lingerie and pearl necklace.

To go back to how the Internet Musical could work out, I mentioned that it would have to be divided into several different stories rather than one whole story arc. These are some of the ideas for what could be the Internet Musical. Names of the songs in Italics.

Act One: The Meet Up

A story about  younger man (30’s) wanting to find love through the chat rooms without having any luck. He eventually receives a message from a ‘young woman’ who claims to be barely legal and wants to ‘date him’. The stage is split to show two different rooms; The young man’s office/bedroom on the left, while on the right, an office with three government workers/cops standing around a computer. During the first song(Chat Room Romance), the man sings along side a young woman’s voice at the computer (the woman is never seen) while the government workers type the dialogue on the computer while insulting the man, eventually agreeing on meeting up. The next scene shows the man walking to the door with flowers in hand. The door opens to reveal Chris Hanson (To Catch a Predator), offering him to come in and take a seat while the both of them discuss the conversation between the man and the ‘young woman’ in another song (Take a Seat, Take a Seat, Take a Seat Please!). He is soon arrested by the three government workers/cops from before. Act one ends on the young man reflecting on the conversation in jail while another prisoner proposes romantic relations (In my Cold Cell/A Glass of Toilet Wine).


Act Two: Lamentation of an Online Gamer

The stage shows a young man playing World of Warcraft (WOW). He is called from offstage by an older woman to come down to eat dinner. He refuses to do so, wanting to continue to play his game. As he mocks other players (Griefing), he starts to fade in and out of unconsciousness. The stage’s lights dim before showing the young man dressed in ghostly attire standing over his body. He looks at himself, overwhelmed with what he had become and sings a song about what led him to begin playing WOW, how his addiction has taking over his life and the opportunities he let slip by, including social events and a girl willing to be his girlfriend (Lamentations of an Online Gamer). His body is soon discovered by his mother who weeps over the loss of her son to the game (WOW killed my Son). Act two ends with the young man’s funeral that his family, a few friends and cos-players attend, ending with the priest making a bad joke about the young man ‘re-spawning in Heaven’.


Act Three: The Cam Girl

Act Three opens to a young woman’s (in her twenties) bedroom as she sits on the colorful bed with a laptop computer sitting in front of her. She starts to sing a song about her alternative line of work and how she rakes in cash without doing much, even to the extent that removing her shirt nets her an easy couple hundred dollars (Confessions of a Cam Girl). She soon hears a ping on her computer that someone has paid her for a private session. From there, she looks at the screen and sees that the man in the private chat wants her to do the most abnormal fetish play such as covering herself in milk and honey, and pleasuring herself with a plush animal resembling Sonic the Hedgehog (You want me to do what with what?) Disgusted with what the man is asking her, she disconnects the private conversation calling him a freak. She soon starts another private chat with another man, who she discovers is her father leading to a duet between herself and her father who is offstage (My Daddy is a Pervert/My Daughter is a Cam Girl). Act Three ends with an awkward moment of silence before the father tells her that he will see her at dinner.


Act Four: Fundraising

The stage is empty except for a large screen. A lone man walks to the center of the stage, clearing his throat before beginning his proposal for an abnormal and irrelevant tech device as images of the device are projected on the screen behind him.(The Start-Up). Offstage, peoples comments about the device can be heard as various voices begin to ask questions about it as the man begins to answer them (The Kickstarter Ballet). As the song ends, the stage darkens for a moment to show a progression of time. The stage lightens up to show the man counting a wad of cash, reveling in the success of the funding. He then proceeds to state how the project’s completion will be ‘delayed’ due to unforeseen circumstances. Act Three ends with him proceeding to flee with the money (The Clean Getaway).


Act Five: The Ballad of a Modern Day Political Activist

The stage opens up to reveal a man sitting at a computer with several devices around him as he browses through news stories. He soon comes across a news story of a social injustice, which in this case is the use of unspecified chemical in a commonly eaten food product which leads him to begin to voice his objections to the product’s use of the chemical (The Call for Social Justice). The stage darkens for a moment to signify a period of time has passed. The stage becomes illuminated to show the man walking across the stage to check his computer to see if the food producer has stopped the use of the chemical. He finds out that the chemical is still in use and becomes outraged, leading to a song about using guerrilla hacking as a form of protest against the company (DOS Attack). He revels in the success of his hacking and decides to celebrate with pizza. The stage becomes dark again to signify another period of time passing. The man goes back to his computer and listens to a news report saying that the food production company was hacked. Act Five ends with the man continuing to celebrate until three SWAT members burst into the room and arrest him for a completely different crime than the hacking much to his dismay (Success/The Bust).

These are just ideas for what the Internet Musical could be. But please, do not try to create a musical about the internet.

Experiment Twenty Six: Serah’s Story (Sample)

Well, I am proud to admit that I have begun work on the sequel for Experiment Twenty Six, entitled Experiment Twenty Six: Serah’s Story. Set six years later, it follows Serah as she tries to find a man from Aiden and Jason’s past as she is thrown into a dark underworld of crime. So, here is a sample chapter of the sequel to come. Fair Warning, this does contain spoilers from the first book. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One: Six Years Later.

The sun rises over a quiet suburban neighborhood as its residents begin their day. The chirping of birds fills the air with their songs as they enjoy the warm spring air.

In one of the houses nestled along the street, a young woman wakes from her peaceful slumber. She stretches her slender arms as a light yawn escapes from her mouth. Pushing her long black hair out of her face, she soon turns to the nearby nightstand. She reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a black rectangular object. With the press of a button, a screen emerges from the side, displaying the time. Seven AM is displayed on the transparent screen in bright green letters. She pushes the screen back into the case and raises herself from the bed.

She approaches the closet door, opening it to access her clothes. The selection is varied as both formal and informal clothing line the small wardrobe from side to side. After a minute of thought, she soon pulls out a pair of black jeans and a white button up shirt. Quickly putting on the clothing, she begins to gather her belongings; a brown leather wallet, her phone and a set of keys. Prepared for the day ahead of her, she walks to the doorway and grabs her black backpack.

She makes her way to the end of the large hallway, adorned with various photos hanging on the wall. Descending down the staircase, she turns to walk into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. From the adjacent room, she hears a familiar voice.

“Good morning Serah. How are you doing this morning?” The male voice asks. She turns to face the man for a brief moment to respond to him.

“I am doing well dad. Where’s mom?” Serah reaches into a nearby cabinet to pull out a glass coffee mug and begins to fill it with the pitch black coffee. The warmth of the beverage is evident as steam rises from the top.

“She was called into work early this morning. Apparently there was an issue with one of patients’ information that she needed to help sort out.” The man replied, putting down the newspaper he was reading moments before. Despite being a man in his late thirties, his face shows that he has been through much in his life. He pulls out an older cellphone from the back of his slacks to check the time.

“The hospital would go into a state of panic without her, wouldn’t it?” Serah asks, opening the nearby refrigerator to grab a carton of milk. She mixes the milk with her coffee, diluting the strong beverage to her preference before returning the milk. She takes a sip of it and enjoys the taste.

“It would seem that way. I am sorry to cut the conversation short, but I have to get ready to leave for work.” He tells her, raising himself from the wooden chair and approaching her. She sits the cup down for a moment and wraps her arms around her father’s body to give him a hug.

“Have a good day at work dad.”

“I will sweetie. I will see you after school.” He tells her as she lets go of him. He proceeds to walk to a nearby stand, where a black knapsack is sitting. Slinging it over his shoulder, he leaves the household to get on with his day. Serah follows suit, finishing her coffee and quickly rinsing it in the nearby sink. She soon proceeds to leave the home to go to school.

After a fifteen minute drive, Serah finally reaches her destination, Winchester High School. A larger building that was once built on a brick foundation and modest aesthetics, now renovated to accommodate the modern times. Long lengths of solar panels line the rooftops of the school, shining brightly in the morning sun. Before the main doorway, an elongated garden stretches along the sidewalks. Leaving her car in the nearby parking lot, she proceeds to enter the school to begin her day.

Five hours pass before the bell signals for Serah and the other students to go to lunch. Serah soon leaves the classroom and proceeds to enter the expansive hallway, navigating through the myriad of students around her. After a short walk, she finally reaches the glass doors leading to the school’s library. For her, it was a place of solace where she could either work on her assignments or read without being disturbed by others. As she enters, she turns to the librarian at the counter to wave to her quietly as she usually does before going to one of the desktop computers.

Sitting herself down, Serah logs into the computer and begins to work. She inserts a usb drive into one of the ports and clicks on one of the options that appear. Within moments, a series of different windows pop up on her screen as lines of code fills each of them. With nimble and graceful movements, she quickly types commands into each of the windows. For the next ten minutes, she continues to work on the computer before being interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Spending another lunch at in the library Serah?” The female voice asked. Without turning away from the screen, Serah responded to the query.

“I wanted to finish a couple of side projects that I am working on.”

“You are too focused on programming, you know that right? Serah’s friend asked as she sat herself in the cushioned chair next to her. She pulls her cellphone from her black jeans and begins typing a message.

“What can I say? It’s something that runs in my family Chloe.” Serah told her. In a sense, she was telling the truth. Aiden and Jason were the closest thing to family for her and they taught her how to program and design software from when she was a young age. Chloe finishes her message and returns the phone back to her back pocket.

“What are you even working on? With all of these browsers up, I can’t tell which is which.” Chloe said, leaning in to examine Serah’s screen. Part of Chloe’s auburn hair blocks part of the screen, disrupting Serah’s work.

“If you want to know, I will tell you. This window is running an Arduino program that I spent the past week working on, searching for any bugs that I might have missed. This window is for developing user interfaces for other programs, and this window is…” Before Serah can continue to explain what each of the windows are for, she is interrupted by Chloe.

“Please stop. I am getting a migraine from listening to you trying to explain what these windows are for.” Chloe said, clutching her head in confusion.

“It is really quite simple to learn if you can remember the specific commands.”

“It might be simple for you, but for a lot of people, programming in multiple languages is difficult.”

“I’m sorry. I am not trying to show off.” Serah replied. Chloe sighs before speaking.

“I know you aren’t. You are just gifted at what you do.” Chloe said, trying her best to be sympathetic. Serah glances down at the clock on screen to see that lunch is coming to a close. She begins to close the windows, exiting the programs she was once using before removing the usb drive. She raises herself from the chair as she prepares to leave. Chloe takes heed and begins to follow her. “Serah, where are you going?”

“I need to get something from my locker before we head back to class.” Serah told her as they both leave the library. As they walk to their destination, Chloe tries to continue the conversation.

“So, are you heading to Melissa’s party on Friday night?”

“I haven’t thought about going. I was going to spend the night with one of the books I picked up the other day.” Serah answered. Chloe lets out a moan of disappointment at what she has just heard, questioning what person would spend the night reading.

“Let me get this straight. You would rather spend your Friday night reading one of those musty books rather than a night out?” Chloe asks.

“First of all, my books are not ‘musty’. The books I find happen to be in the best condition you can find for books dating back over fifty years. Secondly, what is Melissa celebrating? It is not her birthday.” Serah asks as they reach the rows of lockers. Entering one of the rows, they reach Serah’s locker and she begins to open the lock. After a few seconds, she opens the metal door and pulls out a textbook from the locker.

“She isn’t celebrating anything. Her parents are out of the house for their honeymoon, so she is throwing a party.” Chloe answered. She glances down at the book that Serah took out of her locker. A larger textbook, the words ‘Rosenberg’s Molecular and Genetic Basis of Neurological and Psychiatric Disease: Fifth Edition’ are printed in large letters on the front of the tome.

“So, it is going to be another meaningless social event of excessive drinking, loud music, and guys being overzealous and cocky? No thanks.” Serah said, closing her locker door and relocking it. Chloe shakes her head at Serah’s refusal.

“At least it is better than staying at home, locked away with your books. I mean, no offense Serah, but you do act like a shut-in from time to time.” Chloe told her, trying not to offend her friend. Serah looks at her with irritation, but understands what she is saying. She knows that she spends a lot of time focused on her studies and projects, but she recognizes the importance of her work.

“Look, I don’t mind going out to hang out with either you or Ashlynn. But I don’t want to go to a place where people have illegal beverages and guys are trying to force their way into my pants.” Serah elaborates. Chloe decides to stop trying to torment her.

“Ok, ok. You have made your point. Alright, this has been bugging me. Why do you have a book about neurological diseases?” Chloe asks, gesturing towards the book.

“I am doing some research on something. One of my family members was diagnosed with a mental illness and I wanted some information on it.” Serah replied, lying to her friend. In reality, it was for herself, but she didn’t want to worry Chloe.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

From around one of the corners, two young men approach conversing to each other about one of their classes. Both of them are wearing the school’s varsity jackets, a symbol of their active participation in their selective sports. Chloe looks past Serah to look at them as they approach. Her eyes widen with anticipation as they glance over to see them conversing.

“Hey Serah, look. It’s Colin.” Serah looks at her with mild confusion, both unsure what her friend was getting at and while Colin would approach her. She had heard the rumors about Colin Hall; an ambitious young man who was the running back for the school’s football team, he had the reputation of being possessive and manipulative when the situation called for it. He managed to stay below the teachers and staff’s radar with good grades and charm.

“So?” Serah asks.

“So? Colin is a catch. One of the stars of the football team with an early admittance to Vassar University.” Chloe explained. Serah rolls her eyes at the notion, shrugging it off.

“What you would consider to be a ‘catch’, many would consider to be a psychopath.” Serah told her.

“What would you know about psychopaths Serah?” Chloe inquired, puzzled with her choice of words.

“Plenty.” Serah growled in response. In her mind, the memories of Frederick Petridis and Eric Froste were still fresh. She saw Frederick’s lack of conscious and Erick’s lack of restraint firsthand and she knew how cruel the world could be. To this day, she doesn’t know where Erick was or what became of him. The news of his autobiography made international news, but he was nowhere to be found. As for Frederick, she was glad that he was dead. Chloe easily picks up on her anger, but is unsure of its reason.

As she is lost in her thoughts, Colin and his friend approach them, straightening out their jackets to try to impress the both of them. At the last minute, Colin pushes back on the rise of his auburn pomp to keep it back.

“Well, hello Chloe and Serah. Don’t you both look lovely?” Colin states in an almost sickly sweet way, trying to appear charming. His attention is more focused on Serah, who is the most disinterested of the group. She groans in disgust, wanting more than anything for Colin to leave her alone.

“Thank you Colin. How are you doing Samuel?” Chloe asks, turning to Colin’s friend.

“Doing well. Managed to get a B on one of my reports for Lapernski’s class.” He quickly replied.

“So…Serah. I wanted to know if you would like to catch a movie sometime.” Colin flirtatiously said, leaning his large hand against the locker next to Serah, much to her dismay.

“No thanks. Now if you excuse me, I have to get back to class. Lunch is nearly over.” Serah retorted, moving past Colin and Chloe to be on her way. Colin looks at her dismay and anger at her refusal. He didn’t enjoy being stood up like that.

“Hey listen. I know you are not seeing anyone right now. You are always holed up in your little studies, thinking that you are going to be the next Steve Jobs. Well, let me tell you. You are not the hot shit that you think you are. So, loosen up.” Colin snarled as he turned to face Serah.

He reaches out to grab her forearm to try to stop her. Serah quickly takes heed of this, dropping her books to react. She instinctively grabs Colin’s arm, twisting back with his palm facing upwards. With a quick gesture, she strikes his elbow, breaking his arm as the sound of a loud crack momentarily fills the hall. Colin begins to scream at the top of his lungs at the pain as he falls to the ground clutching his arm.

“Oh my god! My fucking arm! What did you do?!?” Colin wailed as Chloe and Samuel look at what just happened. Even Serah is shocked at what just happened. Her mind went blank for just a brief moment and within that time she broke another student’s arm.

As Colin’s cries fill the halls, it draws the attention of the other students as well as the faculty who arrived just to see the gruesome scene. In a short amount of time, a crowd of people have surrounded them.

“Serah, what did you do?” Chloe pleads as she tries to make sense of the situation. Serah is almost speechless at what she has done.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to…” Serah pleads, trying to defend herself, only to be interrupted by Colin.

“You fucking broke my arm, you bitch!”

Samuel raises Colin to his feet, being as gentle as he can to prevent causing him more pain. One of the teachers pushes through the crowd to survey the scene. She tries her best to resolve the situation.

“Mr. Adamson. Take Mr. Hall to the Nurse’s office for the time being. Ms. Corsaige, to the office. Now. As for the rest of you, get back to class.” She barked to them. Samuel shuffles down the hallway with Colin in tow as the other students look at with confusion. As they leave, Colin glances back at Serah with piercing and hateful eyes. Serah soon does what the teacher asks and proceeds to the office.

Twenty minutes pass as Serah waits in the small lobby near the principal’s office. The room is silent except for the sounds of the secretary clicking on the desktop’s keyboard and the loud ticking of the analog clock above her. The secretary occasionally glances over to Serah with surprise that she would be in trouble. She knew Serah to be a good student, but would never think that she would harm another student. As she waits, Serah thinks about what has just happened and what could happen next. She had never been in this kind of trouble before. She is worried how her parents would react to hearing that she assaulted another student.

From one of the nearby doors, a larger man emerges and approaches the secretary. Despite his age, he was physically in shape and it showed by the limited movements of his white dress shirt. Though he was strong, he was one of the friendliest people that the students knew. He whispers something into her ear before turning to Serah.

“Serah. Will you come with me into my office?” He asks despondently.

“Of course Principal Hackett.” Serah replied, raising herself up from the grey upholstered chair. She follows him into his office. As they both enter the room, he closes the door behind them and instructs her to take a seat. He walks around the cluttered mahogany desk and takes a seat in the black office chair. He rubs his tired hazel eyes, trying to think about the situation before them. After a moment, Serah tries to speak.

“Principal Hackett. I want you to know that it was an…”

“Stop. You don’t know how bad this situation is for all of us.” He interrupts.

Reaching over to his computer, he turns the thin LCD screen around to show her the school’s security footage. With the click of the mouse, he plays the footage of what has just transpired. The entire event plays back, reminding them of what just happened. Colin’s dialogue fills the small office. He stops the footage at the moment where Serah struck Colin’s arm.

“I received an email from the nurse. Not only did you dislocate Colin’s shoulder, you shattered his elbow. He is on his way to the hospital and chances are, he is going to need surgery. I need to know what was going through your head when this happened.” He told her.

“I don’t know…my mind went blank for a moment and I….I just reacted.” She responded, unsure of what to tell him. Hackett lets out a heavy sigh when he hears this, unsure of how to proceed.

“Serah, I am not going to lie. There is no easy answer to resolve this situation. Colin and his family will probably want to either have you arrested for assault or try to sue you. The security footage we have of the event as well as well as the testimonials of both Adamson and Soane could be your saving grace, but it reflects badly on both of you. Colin was the lineman for the school’s football team and his early admittance to Vassar was partly due to a football scholarship. With his arm broken, he could easily lose that scholarship and admittance.” He began to explain as he looked through some of the papers on his desk. Each of the documents sitting on his desk have information on both Colin and Serah.

“I am sorry Principal Hackett. I didn’t know that I was capable of doing that.” Serah tries to defend herself the best she can.

“I am going to tell you something that I want you to keep between us Serah. I have always disliked Colin. He was a young and pompous prick, thinking that everything should be given to him. I heard the rumors from both students and parents about his manipulative nature and disliked him for it. If any good can come from this situation, he might learn a lesson of humility from it.”

“I see.” Serah replied, thinking about what he had to say about Colin.

“But, this incident also affects you badly as well. I am not going to lie, you are literally the most intelligent student in the school. Your consistent academic record as well as your SAT test scores has every college and university wanting you to attend. But, assaulting another student, even by accident that is something that every school is going to be looking at. It could severely harm your chances of being accepted into a college.” He sternly said, looking Serah in her grey eyes.

“I know.” Serah replied. She didn’t know what to say that could have helped ease the situation. “Principal Hackett, what is going to happen now?” He pauses for a moment, thinking about what to do for the time being. After a while, he comes to a decision.

“After school, I am going to have a meeting with the other administrators about how we are going to resolve the situation peacefully. Both yours and Colin’s parents have been called and notified of the situation. Chances are we are going to have a meeting between you, Colin, and your families to try to ease the situation. Though for the time being, you are to continue to go to class. During which, you will not be allowed to participate in extracurricular activities and you will have to have one of the teachers escorting you from class to class. Is that understood?”

“I understand sir. But wouldn’t suspension be a more appropriate punishment rather than having me continue to go to class?” She inquired.

“One would think, but this is not a situation that can’t be resolved with an expulsion or suspension. Now, you need to get back to class. I will tell you what is going to happen in a day or so.” He said, picking up the phone and quickly dialing it. After a moment, he speaks. “Mrs. Weller, can you please come to my office and escort Ms. Corsaige back to class? Thank you.” In a brief amount of time, the secretary enters the room, gesturing for Serah to follow her. Serah lifts herself from the chair and follows the secretary out of the office to her class.

As Serah follows the secretary, the students in the hallway keep their distance from her. Murmurs and whispering replaces the once boisterous conversations that once filled the hallways. They look at her with fear and surprise that a student that was known for being silent and socially awkward was capable of breaking another student’s arm. The story has already spread throughout the entire school despite it happening less than an hour ago. Serah feared how people would react after what has just happened. They eventually reach the classroom and Serah quietly enters the room.

For the last forty minutes of class, the class proceeds and carries on as it would usually do before. However, whenever the teacher would call on one of the students, their response was delayed, their minds occupied by what Serah has done. As class ended, the students were hesitant to leave before Serah. Hanging her head low, Serah tries to not attract any more attention to her. Leaving the classroom, she darts to her locker to get her belongings to leave the school. The watchful eyes of the other students monitor her as she walks through the school’s doors.

As Serah approaches her car, she sees Chloe approaching her from the right. Looking closely, she can tell that her friend is still in shock from earlier. Reaching the car, both of them place their bags on the ground and give each other a short lived hug.

“How bad was it?” Chloe asks sympathetically.

“Principal Hackett has told me that he and the other administrators are going to discuss what is going to what happen next. He is going to tell me what will happen in a day or so. Until then, I am to be escorted from class to class.” Serah explained.

“Well…shit. The entire school is talking about how you broke Colin’s arm. Serah, how are you that strong?” Chloe inquired.

“I wish I could tell you Chloe.” Serah told her.

“Alright, try to give me a call tonight. I will see you tomorrow Serah.”

“I hope so. Goodbye Chloe.”  Serah replied. They both pick up their bags and go their separate ways. Serah enters the sedan, her thoughts occupied with how her parents would react. Aiden would probably be the more supporting of the two, though he would still be stern about what had happened. Catherine would try to think about the situation and how to handle it, but social problems were not her strong suit. Serah sighs as she ponders this as she begins to leave the school.

Are the Fifties and Sixties coming back? You bet Jack.

It is not a secret that trends have the tendency to reemerge after years of inactivity. It can be seen through items such as Rubik cubes and vinyl records, hair styles, clothing and accessories. It can also made apparent through our television shows and music. However, what I see as a returning trend is more or less, the return of an era of American history. I have to say, the fifties and sixties are coming back in full swing.

Truthfully, I was originally skeptical that an entire era could potentially reemerge in today’s day and age, but looking around, I see that is easy to compare today’s culture to that of the . Over the summation of this article, various aspects such as popular culture, political ideals, and social norms will be compared from today’s standards to that of the fifties and sixties as well as the potential causes.

I guess it would be best that I start with something that more people are familiar with, and that would be popular culture. One of the more noticeable trends, popular culture plays an active part in any society that permeates into people’s lives. It can vary from clothing styles, hair styles, behavior, music, television, and much more. To start off with, let’s discuss music shall we?

Music– Some of the more common genres of the fifties and sixties were Jazz (Ex. John Coltrane), Doo-Wop (Ex. The Platters), and Rock and Roll (Ex. Elvis Presley). Each of these genres have had their respective peaks in popularity during throughout the fifties and sixties although they descended in popularity over the coming years to other genres such as Rock (Ex. AC/DC), Pop (Ex. Michael Jackson), Rap (Ex. Tupac Shakur), and others. The aforementioned genres did not die entirely, but were not in the central limelight. However, in recent years, there has been a resurgence of the use of Doo-Wop and Jazz in music in both background instrumentals and choruses as well as being the basis of the songs. With Doo-Wop, there is more of resurgence through the use of covers of popular songs. Music groups such as Scott Bradlee’s Post Modern Jukebox have created covers using Jazz and Doo-Wop as the basis for songs such as We Can’t Stop  and Rude. However, other artists have used these genres as the basis for their songs such as Meghan Trainor, who has used Doo-Wop as the primary music genre in her song Dear Future Husband. In my opinion, this is a welcome change of pace in music. It is a dreadful idea that some of the classic music styles that our parents and grandparents had listened to before us could disappear.
Hairstyles and Clothing– Modern fashion and style has often taken a page out of previous trends that were once popular. This is no different for the styles of the fifties and sixties. For hairstyles, there is a growing trend for men to have hair that is curtails to modern style and business etiquette. One of the styles would be ‘The Pomp’, a variant of the pompadour hairstyle that was made famous by musicians such as Elvis Presley. In the  media, celebrities such as Sam Smith have been seen with this style. With this style, it is practical to the extent that it is low maintenance and easy to apply. However the reverse can be said for women’s hairstyles. There has not been a resurgence in women’s hairstyles as of yet. With clothing, popular fashions are also making a slower return in popularity for both genders. But it will still be some time before you see more people sporting poodle skirts.
Political Ideals– Politics can be one of the most consistent notions imaginable as regimes and governments can remain the same for decades to come. One of the largest political fears of the fifties and sixties was the fear of nuclear war breaking out between the United States and the Soviet Union. While the concern over the United States and Russia using nuclear weapons has died down over the years, However, there is still an unease between the two countries as acts of cyber-war are being committed by both parties involved. Other countries such as North Korea and China have also committed cyber attacks for political and social means.
Social Ideals– During the fifties and sixties, American society was in the midst of a social revolution as civil rights for the African American community began to rise with historic events such as the Rosa Parks bus protest and the rise of political figures such as Martin Luther King Jr. I am not going to say that the social protests rivaled that of the fifties and sixties, but the social protests that have occurred within the past few years were impressive nonetheless. Social movements such as the Occupy Wall Street movement shows that people are willing to voice their believes through protest. Through social media, social protest has become a powerful voice in changing social and political policies.

With trends and lifestyles that come back after years of underexposure, you have to ask “How do they come back?”. Truthfully, I don’t know the answer. If I did, I would try to make a small fortune. I think that it is a sense of nostalgia that these trends make the return that they do.