Rival Gates's Blog, page 55
September 20, 2014
Saturday Excerpt, Quest"
Welcome to Missandor.
The morning sun poked curiously over the horizon. It painted the sky in a dazzling display of vibrant colors. The brilliant star seemed to pause for a moment, while taking its first look at the world, to which it was bringing light. The majestic, glimmering light brought a caress to the silky spring clouds. They would continue to carelessly banter about the sky, riding winds where they led. As the dark of night retreated, a dense fog still stubbornly held the land in a cloak of disguise. Such a spiteful deed by its dark counterpart, seemed to displease the sun. It resolved to rise steadily into the air and shine brightly down upon the usurper with all its might. Being no match for such luminance, the night reluctantly withdrew its misty blanket and released the land to the dawn. As the haze dissipated, it gracefully revealed treetops where one might expect the ground to be. With more and more of the air clearing, the trees spread out in all directions. It was a great forest of redwoods, which seemed quite normal at first glance. Upon closer inspection though, it could be seen that the trees were twice as wide as houses and were spaced out evenly, most certainly in a deliberate pattern. It was not just a forest, but also a town. The trees were actually the town of Missandor. The spacing of the giants formed a grid, which created streets through the town. There were no houses there in a conventional sense. The inhabitants lived within and upon the trees. Missandor was a community of elves. The swarthy skinned folk with brown hair and eyes were slightly more modest in height than their human counterparts. As a whole, it could be said that elves were a friendly and kind people but also intensely proud and distrusting of other races. In Missandor, however, the population was known to be accepting of different cultures and races, making for an atypical elven town. The quiet streets soon erupted with the sounds of the market opening for business. Stands, carts and stores of all types were opening. In a matter of minutes, the town had gone from a simple forest to a merchant conglomerate. Sounds of children playing all around, blended with the haggling taking place at the vendors. It created a symphony of sound, which was pierced on occasion, by the ringing of a bell on the local water wagon. It was pulled by two horses and driven by a kindly old elf that had been delivering this precious commodity to homes since he was a child. He would most likely continue his task until his eventual demise. He was a constant in the ever-changing township.
The morning sun poked curiously over the horizon. It painted the sky in a dazzling display of vibrant colors. The brilliant star seemed to pause for a moment, while taking its first look at the world, to which it was bringing light. The majestic, glimmering light brought a caress to the silky spring clouds. They would continue to carelessly banter about the sky, riding winds where they led. As the dark of night retreated, a dense fog still stubbornly held the land in a cloak of disguise. Such a spiteful deed by its dark counterpart, seemed to displease the sun. It resolved to rise steadily into the air and shine brightly down upon the usurper with all its might. Being no match for such luminance, the night reluctantly withdrew its misty blanket and released the land to the dawn. As the haze dissipated, it gracefully revealed treetops where one might expect the ground to be. With more and more of the air clearing, the trees spread out in all directions. It was a great forest of redwoods, which seemed quite normal at first glance. Upon closer inspection though, it could be seen that the trees were twice as wide as houses and were spaced out evenly, most certainly in a deliberate pattern. It was not just a forest, but also a town. The trees were actually the town of Missandor. The spacing of the giants formed a grid, which created streets through the town. There were no houses there in a conventional sense. The inhabitants lived within and upon the trees. Missandor was a community of elves. The swarthy skinned folk with brown hair and eyes were slightly more modest in height than their human counterparts. As a whole, it could be said that elves were a friendly and kind people but also intensely proud and distrusting of other races. In Missandor, however, the population was known to be accepting of different cultures and races, making for an atypical elven town. The quiet streets soon erupted with the sounds of the market opening for business. Stands, carts and stores of all types were opening. In a matter of minutes, the town had gone from a simple forest to a merchant conglomerate. Sounds of children playing all around, blended with the haggling taking place at the vendors. It created a symphony of sound, which was pierced on occasion, by the ringing of a bell on the local water wagon. It was pulled by two horses and driven by a kindly old elf that had been delivering this precious commodity to homes since he was a child. He would most likely continue his task until his eventual demise. He was a constant in the ever-changing township.
September 17, 2014
Writer's Neutral
One thing I have always prided myself on is never having writer’s block. To be fair, I don’t usually sit down to write unless I have something ready to go. I tend to have this thing I will call writer’s neutral. It’s the strangest thing. I know exactly what I want to write and what I want to say. It is all storyboarded and thought through. Then something comes up and I have to take care of it right away. Then something else does. Then I remember something I was supposed to do. When all is said and done, I sit down in front of the computer and stare at the screen. The words are there in my mind but I’m stuck in neutral. I can’t bring myself to write the words down. For me (to extrapolate on my music analogy from yesterday) writing is like dancing a waltz. It is a slow, methodical display of passion carrying one away to somewhere else. It’s hard to get ready to waltz when you know you will have homework to help with or a family outing soon or even your spouse wanting you to spend that time with them. So you are left not with the time for a long piece by Strauss but rather a quick hit from the Beatles. Both are great. But they are two different types of dancing. So you are left with this short window that started later than you wanted or ends earlier than you would like or both. There is that blank screen and you think to yourself, “If I start writing now I’m going to be interrupted and lose my train of thought or else keep telling the other party to wait and risk creating an awkward situation.” Neither prospect is pleasing. Thus you stare at the screen in neutral. The words are there. The question becomes whether there is the time and conviction to get them down. I have played both sides. I have been the person locked in the computer room writing with all my heart for days if not weeks. The next thing I know I am an alien to my own family. Plans have been made of which I am not a part and decisions have been made without my input. It is a lonely, isolated feeling. On the other side of the coin I have taken part in all sorts of activities and been involved in all the plans. Then my writing comes to a complete stop and is totally ignored. Either way, a little part of me dies inside. So I try to be all things to all people and find myself stuck in neutral in front of the computer with the kids about to get home from school. That will not work. So much is in my head screaming to be written. My mind wants that long waltz. Sometimes I guess you just have to take turns deciding what part of your life to indulge.
September 16, 2014
Giving Thanks To Writing
The list of things we take for granted in this world is longer than any blog I could write. I will not try to give thanks for everything we fail to appreciate as this piece would turn into nothing more than a list. Instead, I want to focus on one thing I am thankful to have in my life. (This is in no way meant as a slight to my family or loved ones.) In speaking in terms of a non-person, the most important thing I am thankful for in my life is my ability to write. One night when I was a child I was sitting with my mother watching PBS during what I liked to call one of their “Beggathons.” In between the pleas for money they would show concert pianist playing everything from Chopin to Gershwin. I had just finished listening to my favorite Beach Boys cassette (Yes, I came to the party late but still know the value of a good four part harmony) and had no taste for the piano pieces my mother closed her eyes and drifted away during. She was appalled when I heard “Rhapsody in Blue” and said, “Hey, they’re playing the United Airlines song!” My mother buried her anger as a former music major in college. She told me to watch the pianist. To my amazement, he was not even looking where his fingers were going. They just danced across the keys like some magic puppeteer was controlling them. It was like the music was coming out of him and not the piano. Then she told me to close my eyes and just feel the music. I did as she asked and it was like a wave flowing over me. In that instant I had a sudden appreciation for a great performer. He made the music come to life. Some time later my cousin played “Rhapsody in Blue” on the piano and she was very good. What I heard though was a collection of notes and not the wave of music I had been so amazed by. We have all read good writers and not so good writers. When I sit down at the computer with an idea and no one around to disturb me, I feel like that concert pianist letting the words flow in a majesty of diction. It is not often but sometimes I can get on a roll. When I am done I look at the screen and stare in wonder at what I have just created. Perhaps no one else will like it but to me I have made something that transcended time and space if only for that briefest of moments. I will be proofreading my work and come to that part. I pause and smile every time. The memory of that pianist comes to mind and I cannot help but grin. I am not an arrogant or vain fellow but I know when I nailed it. That is the greatest feeling in the world. So today, I am thankful for writing. This is my stage. Let the words flow.
September 14, 2014
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
The pieces start to come together.
The crowd mumbled at the utterance of the name. Linvin and his company were immediately at attention. As the noise grew to a crescendo Gramlick once again addressed his master. “That is a bedtime story, My Lord. Please tell me you don’t think you’re going to find it and lead our armies to victory?” Mandrean nodded to Fendri. The Housemaster abruptly stood and disappeared into the hall from which Lord Mandrean arrived. Moments later, he returned followed by two Imperial Guards carrying a stone chest the size of an anvil. Strange letters were carved along its entire gray surface. The lid was clearly separated into two equal sides. Each was held closed by a latch forming a keyhole. The soldiers set it on the ground before the Emperor. They stepped away and Fendri returned to his seat. Necromancer could barely remain seated as excitement took hold. Mandrean addressed Gramlick again. “I don’t need to find it. The Red Sapphire is in the chest before you. I am currently the most powerful man in the world because of my position. I will soon be the most powerful individual because of my abilities.” Gramlick was dumbfounded. “You mean to tell me the Legendary Red Sapphire, not seen since the Dark Ages, sits before your feet in that chest?” Mandrean held out his hand toward Fendri who quickly filled it with a scroll. “The writings are ancient and can only be read by Necromancer,” the Emperor answered. “He assures me the Red Sapphire is in the right side of the chest. The left side I presume to be some sort of a trap. He is completely sure it is in the right side. Is that correct, Necromancer?” The eager Court Magician answered, “It is clear, My Lord. The Red Sapphire is in the right side of the chest.” “How did you come by this chest?” Gramlick asked in amazement. “Have a seat, Old Friend, and I will tell you all.” He opened the scroll and read silently for a moment. Then he addressed the court again. “Let me tell you all a story you will find most interesting. Several years ago one of our iron mines found this chest deep within a section of solid rock. It was not buried there. It was completely surrounded as though the rock formed around it. After the chest was sent here Necromancer told me the Red Sapphire was contained within and its master would command fantastic power. The problem before me was that this was the end-piece of a puzzle. The writings spoke of a staff and key that were the other components of the mystery. In spite of all Necromancer’s efforts, even he could not open the chest. The only way to gain the gem was to locate the other pieces of the puzzle. “So I sent out agents around the world and they made an amazing discovery. It would seem there was a merchant of some note in Sartan who also sought the Red Sapphire. His name was Dirk Grithinshield.”
The crowd mumbled at the utterance of the name. Linvin and his company were immediately at attention. As the noise grew to a crescendo Gramlick once again addressed his master. “That is a bedtime story, My Lord. Please tell me you don’t think you’re going to find it and lead our armies to victory?” Mandrean nodded to Fendri. The Housemaster abruptly stood and disappeared into the hall from which Lord Mandrean arrived. Moments later, he returned followed by two Imperial Guards carrying a stone chest the size of an anvil. Strange letters were carved along its entire gray surface. The lid was clearly separated into two equal sides. Each was held closed by a latch forming a keyhole. The soldiers set it on the ground before the Emperor. They stepped away and Fendri returned to his seat. Necromancer could barely remain seated as excitement took hold. Mandrean addressed Gramlick again. “I don’t need to find it. The Red Sapphire is in the chest before you. I am currently the most powerful man in the world because of my position. I will soon be the most powerful individual because of my abilities.” Gramlick was dumbfounded. “You mean to tell me the Legendary Red Sapphire, not seen since the Dark Ages, sits before your feet in that chest?” Mandrean held out his hand toward Fendri who quickly filled it with a scroll. “The writings are ancient and can only be read by Necromancer,” the Emperor answered. “He assures me the Red Sapphire is in the right side of the chest. The left side I presume to be some sort of a trap. He is completely sure it is in the right side. Is that correct, Necromancer?” The eager Court Magician answered, “It is clear, My Lord. The Red Sapphire is in the right side of the chest.” “How did you come by this chest?” Gramlick asked in amazement. “Have a seat, Old Friend, and I will tell you all.” He opened the scroll and read silently for a moment. Then he addressed the court again. “Let me tell you all a story you will find most interesting. Several years ago one of our iron mines found this chest deep within a section of solid rock. It was not buried there. It was completely surrounded as though the rock formed around it. After the chest was sent here Necromancer told me the Red Sapphire was contained within and its master would command fantastic power. The problem before me was that this was the end-piece of a puzzle. The writings spoke of a staff and key that were the other components of the mystery. In spite of all Necromancer’s efforts, even he could not open the chest. The only way to gain the gem was to locate the other pieces of the puzzle. “So I sent out agents around the world and they made an amazing discovery. It would seem there was a merchant of some note in Sartan who also sought the Red Sapphire. His name was Dirk Grithinshield.”
September 13, 2014
Saturday Excerpt "Quest"
Things behind the scenes are going south in a hurry for Linvin’s family.
Summer turned to autumn and the rainy season followed in turn. When the clouds lifted after the winter months, they revealed the robust spring for which the region was renowned. Though Fraylic was immense and wealthy, not all areas of the city shared in the prosperity. A dilapidated warehouse district occupied the south side of the city. Buildings that once were prized property, had fallen into disrepair and lack of use. Even the roads in the district, that once were paved of the finest stone, had degraded to such a state that their former greatness seemed more fantasy than reality. It was a moonless night. Only the occasional working streetlamp lit the area in which the sun had given its merciful daily reprieve. The cloak of darkness enveloping the area hid a multitude of evils. Even the Town Guard, usually diligent in their duties, turned a blind eye to the region. Theories ranged from payoffs to a simple fear of the vermin on two or four legs. Regardless of the reason, the area was scarcely patrolled and became a haven for those not wanting to be found or bothered. The quiet blackness was disturbed by the sound of shoes walking along the street. Their pace was erratic. At first, they were steady steps, but as the figure in the darkness neared an illuminated area, the steps came to a halt. Then slowly, the sound returned, as the person went to great lengths to remain in hiding. After traversing a seemingly short distance over a long period of time, the hidden figure neared an alley with a working street lamp at its entrance. Out from the shadows, stepped a young human woman wearing a cloak over what appeared to be a servant’s uniform. She looked apprehensive as she pulled the cloak tight and peered about. There was no movement on the street. She sighed without seeming particularly relieved and turned down the alley. Refuse lined the sides of the passage and rats of ever increasing size scurried near her feet. Her steps were taken more and more slowly. Even so, as she looked behind, the light on the roadside looked distant and hardly discernible. When she turned back to her original direction, she stepped squarely into a man of great size who had emerged from the darkness. Startled, she jumped backward and ran directly into a second person. Before she could react, the second person grabbed her arms and prevented her from moving. The assailant in the front, pressed a blade firmly against her throat. “Scream and you die,” said the voice of a man in the front. The woman did not flinch. There was silence, as the blade pressed so tightly against her skin, blood began to trickle from her neck. Even as the blood ran, she did not move. “People say there could be frost this spring,” the man with the knife stated. “Not in the south,” she said firmly. The blade was removed from her neck. She immediately kicked the instep of the man holding her and elbowed him in stomach, then she turned her wrath on the man with the knife. She kicked it out of his hand and with a spin, kicked again, this time colliding with the side of his head. The man staggered but did not go down. He lashed back surprisingly fast and struck her in the jaw with his fist. The man from behind joined the fray and the three ferociously exchanged blows. “Enough!” yelled a voice from the dark end of the ally. With that one word, the three participants immediately ceased hostilities and stood panting. “You are all professionals,” the voice called, “act like it.” The woman gave one last kick to the shin of the man who had held the knife to her. “You cut me Two!” she snipped as the blow landed. “If you hadn’t answered the question right I would have shown you a real cut,” Two answered while rubbing his shin. “What’s your problem Six,” the man who had held her arms said. “I’ve had worse cuts shaving my face. Of course, you probably have too.” Six turned to him and kicked him in the groin. He fell to the ground and she stood over him. “Come now, Three,” she chided. “I get worse pain than that from wearing these shoes.” “I said enough,” the mysterious voice called again. He was joined by two other figures from the blackness. “On this mission we work as a team, not individuals. Our target is not in this ally. The next person to step out of line will become my target. Clear?” Five voices answered in unison, “Clear One.” “Alright then,” One said as he approached Six. “What is the status of the target?” Six stepped forward and gave her answer, “I have steadily increased the dosage of the poison in her food as planned. Her condition has deteriorated to the point where she should be dead by now.” “Does anyone suspect anything other than natural causes?” One asked. “It is unclear,” Six answered. “She has been increasingly attended by physicians and others. The poison is very difficult to trace. The symptoms are ordinary in nature. It would take a knowledgeable doctor to detect the poison.” “With the finances at her disposal, we must assume that she has such a doctor,” One concluded. “Is our presence suspected?” “Not that I can tell,” Six answered. “I made sure the final doses would be administered by unknowing servants. Not being there when she died, I would never be suspected.” “Let’s get to the point,” interrupted Two. “Did you find the prize?” Six looked sheepish as she sought the proper words. “I located it two weeks ago under her bed. Each day I checked to make sure it was still there. It was there this morning when I took her breakfast, but when I left this evening, it was no longer under the bed.” The other five voices started to murmur in despair. One stopped the bickering once again. “Quiet!” he said. “If she was as bad off as you say, I do not think she would have had the strength to hide it. Correct?” “No Sir,” Six answered confidently. “Then someone else must have taken it,” One surmised. “Did she have any visitors today?” “The doctor came in the morning but he did not have it when he left,” Six answered. “It would have been impossible to hide.” “Anyone else?” pressed One. Six was quiet for a moment, then she spoke quickly. “Her brother came to visit this afternoon. I…I did not see when he left.” “What do you mean?” Two demanded. “How could you not see him leave? Did he take the prize or not?” “I said that I don’t know!” fired back Six. “It’s not like I could just sit there and watch the door all day. How inconspicuous would that be? In order to maintain my cover, I had to see to chores. When I went back to check on her, he was gone.” “And that is the point where you noticed it was missing?” One asked. “I did not have the opportunity to check until the end of my shift. At that point, I noticed the prize was gone.” “Maybe it was hidden somewhere else in the house,” Five said. “If it was,” One surmised, “there is no way to search it with her now being dead. The mansion will be crawling with Town Watch and investigators.” “So we are foiled!” hollered Two. “Great. All these months of work blown in one day!” “Shut up!” Six snapped. “You would have fared no better.” “This arguing is pointless,” One affirmed. “The most likely fate of the prize is that the target suspected foul play and gave it to her brother for safe keeping. If that is the case, then there are two destinations we are most likely to find him. Either he will be at his home on the other side of town or he will have gone to his nephew’s in Missandor.” “So do we split up?” Five asked. “No,” answered One. “We will search faster together. First, we will tear the brother’s house apart. If we do not find it there, then we will move on to her son. Failure is not acceptable in this mission. Now everyone move. We will not sleep this night.” As they scurried down the alley, Two could not help but jab at Six again. “It figures you would blow this for all of us.” “We will have the prize soon,” Six answered back, “but if you say one more thing I will kill you where you stand.” “Save it for our new targets!” yelled One as they entered the street.
Summer turned to autumn and the rainy season followed in turn. When the clouds lifted after the winter months, they revealed the robust spring for which the region was renowned. Though Fraylic was immense and wealthy, not all areas of the city shared in the prosperity. A dilapidated warehouse district occupied the south side of the city. Buildings that once were prized property, had fallen into disrepair and lack of use. Even the roads in the district, that once were paved of the finest stone, had degraded to such a state that their former greatness seemed more fantasy than reality. It was a moonless night. Only the occasional working streetlamp lit the area in which the sun had given its merciful daily reprieve. The cloak of darkness enveloping the area hid a multitude of evils. Even the Town Guard, usually diligent in their duties, turned a blind eye to the region. Theories ranged from payoffs to a simple fear of the vermin on two or four legs. Regardless of the reason, the area was scarcely patrolled and became a haven for those not wanting to be found or bothered. The quiet blackness was disturbed by the sound of shoes walking along the street. Their pace was erratic. At first, they were steady steps, but as the figure in the darkness neared an illuminated area, the steps came to a halt. Then slowly, the sound returned, as the person went to great lengths to remain in hiding. After traversing a seemingly short distance over a long period of time, the hidden figure neared an alley with a working street lamp at its entrance. Out from the shadows, stepped a young human woman wearing a cloak over what appeared to be a servant’s uniform. She looked apprehensive as she pulled the cloak tight and peered about. There was no movement on the street. She sighed without seeming particularly relieved and turned down the alley. Refuse lined the sides of the passage and rats of ever increasing size scurried near her feet. Her steps were taken more and more slowly. Even so, as she looked behind, the light on the roadside looked distant and hardly discernible. When she turned back to her original direction, she stepped squarely into a man of great size who had emerged from the darkness. Startled, she jumped backward and ran directly into a second person. Before she could react, the second person grabbed her arms and prevented her from moving. The assailant in the front, pressed a blade firmly against her throat. “Scream and you die,” said the voice of a man in the front. The woman did not flinch. There was silence, as the blade pressed so tightly against her skin, blood began to trickle from her neck. Even as the blood ran, she did not move. “People say there could be frost this spring,” the man with the knife stated. “Not in the south,” she said firmly. The blade was removed from her neck. She immediately kicked the instep of the man holding her and elbowed him in stomach, then she turned her wrath on the man with the knife. She kicked it out of his hand and with a spin, kicked again, this time colliding with the side of his head. The man staggered but did not go down. He lashed back surprisingly fast and struck her in the jaw with his fist. The man from behind joined the fray and the three ferociously exchanged blows. “Enough!” yelled a voice from the dark end of the ally. With that one word, the three participants immediately ceased hostilities and stood panting. “You are all professionals,” the voice called, “act like it.” The woman gave one last kick to the shin of the man who had held the knife to her. “You cut me Two!” she snipped as the blow landed. “If you hadn’t answered the question right I would have shown you a real cut,” Two answered while rubbing his shin. “What’s your problem Six,” the man who had held her arms said. “I’ve had worse cuts shaving my face. Of course, you probably have too.” Six turned to him and kicked him in the groin. He fell to the ground and she stood over him. “Come now, Three,” she chided. “I get worse pain than that from wearing these shoes.” “I said enough,” the mysterious voice called again. He was joined by two other figures from the blackness. “On this mission we work as a team, not individuals. Our target is not in this ally. The next person to step out of line will become my target. Clear?” Five voices answered in unison, “Clear One.” “Alright then,” One said as he approached Six. “What is the status of the target?” Six stepped forward and gave her answer, “I have steadily increased the dosage of the poison in her food as planned. Her condition has deteriorated to the point where she should be dead by now.” “Does anyone suspect anything other than natural causes?” One asked. “It is unclear,” Six answered. “She has been increasingly attended by physicians and others. The poison is very difficult to trace. The symptoms are ordinary in nature. It would take a knowledgeable doctor to detect the poison.” “With the finances at her disposal, we must assume that she has such a doctor,” One concluded. “Is our presence suspected?” “Not that I can tell,” Six answered. “I made sure the final doses would be administered by unknowing servants. Not being there when she died, I would never be suspected.” “Let’s get to the point,” interrupted Two. “Did you find the prize?” Six looked sheepish as she sought the proper words. “I located it two weeks ago under her bed. Each day I checked to make sure it was still there. It was there this morning when I took her breakfast, but when I left this evening, it was no longer under the bed.” The other five voices started to murmur in despair. One stopped the bickering once again. “Quiet!” he said. “If she was as bad off as you say, I do not think she would have had the strength to hide it. Correct?” “No Sir,” Six answered confidently. “Then someone else must have taken it,” One surmised. “Did she have any visitors today?” “The doctor came in the morning but he did not have it when he left,” Six answered. “It would have been impossible to hide.” “Anyone else?” pressed One. Six was quiet for a moment, then she spoke quickly. “Her brother came to visit this afternoon. I…I did not see when he left.” “What do you mean?” Two demanded. “How could you not see him leave? Did he take the prize or not?” “I said that I don’t know!” fired back Six. “It’s not like I could just sit there and watch the door all day. How inconspicuous would that be? In order to maintain my cover, I had to see to chores. When I went back to check on her, he was gone.” “And that is the point where you noticed it was missing?” One asked. “I did not have the opportunity to check until the end of my shift. At that point, I noticed the prize was gone.” “Maybe it was hidden somewhere else in the house,” Five said. “If it was,” One surmised, “there is no way to search it with her now being dead. The mansion will be crawling with Town Watch and investigators.” “So we are foiled!” hollered Two. “Great. All these months of work blown in one day!” “Shut up!” Six snapped. “You would have fared no better.” “This arguing is pointless,” One affirmed. “The most likely fate of the prize is that the target suspected foul play and gave it to her brother for safe keeping. If that is the case, then there are two destinations we are most likely to find him. Either he will be at his home on the other side of town or he will have gone to his nephew’s in Missandor.” “So do we split up?” Five asked. “No,” answered One. “We will search faster together. First, we will tear the brother’s house apart. If we do not find it there, then we will move on to her son. Failure is not acceptable in this mission. Now everyone move. We will not sleep this night.” As they scurried down the alley, Two could not help but jab at Six again. “It figures you would blow this for all of us.” “We will have the prize soon,” Six answered back, “but if you say one more thing I will kill you where you stand.” “Save it for our new targets!” yelled One as they entered the street.
September 10, 2014
The Technology River
You know technology is a lot like a river flowing by. You can reach down and grab it. For that instance you understand a piece of the master puzzle. Then you look up and see the rest of the water has passed you by and the little bit of water you cling to is dated and slipping away. Today’s technology is moving so fast that it takes all of one’s energy just to stand on the shore and watch it turn into tomorrow’s new creations. Let me illustrate. There was a time back in the late 1980s and early 1990s where I worked at length on Apple Macintosh computers. The interface was so much simpler than using BASIC computer language to write the most rudimentary programs as I had been taught in school. The Apple was sleek and easy to use. It was surely the future. I worked extensively on the system and had all my information saved in its format. Then IBM computers started appearing with this “Windows” thing on them. It was not compatible with my Apple data so I paid it no attention. It would seem that I was one of the few who ignored Mr. Gates’ new software platform. Pretty soon I was discovering everyone had an “IBM Compatible” computer and the only people left using Apples were architects and other designers. It is safe to say I do not fall into that category. Now I had a problem. I was standing next to the river of technology just letting go of the water I had scooped up. Unfortunately, the advent of the dominant Windows platform was now far downstream. The only thing to do was wade into this river and try to pick up on the new method from those who had already been baptized in the new religion. It was like learning the alphabet backward at first but with the help of some friends and coworkers I converted to Windows. I had to be careful, though. I was standing in the middle of the technology river with new products all around moving passed, becoming outdated (The Walkman), replaced by (The Discman) and improved upon (The MP3) all while I was consumed with the computer issue. There was Windows 3.1. Before I had that down Windows 95 came along and it was as if the atom had been split again. I doubled my efforts there and learned it before Windows 98 was born. Then I took the plunge and dropped a wad of cash on a computer which was out of date before the ink was dry on the receipt. There’s the rub. You invest so much in a computer that you aren’t ready to toss it aside whenever a new version comes along and so once again technology passes downstream. I saw Windows 2000 and Millennium go by. Then my computer died as it turns out they like to do. They seem to have the life span of a Kim Kardashian marriage. I bought an XP. Then I had to change how I did some things before it broke and I had to buy the dreaded Windows Vista. That system changed all the rules. It took years to learn and master. I watched Windows 7 pass by like that beautiful young girl you knew in school but were never brave enough to ask out. Instead I waited until the evil Vista turned on me and I had no choice but to get out and save what little data I could. I found myself washed up on the shore staring at the monster that was Windows 8.1 and had no choice but to submit. Now I am trying to catch up once again as I am sure technology is floating some other beast my way. It’s tempting to hold on to a hand full of the technology river. But when it leaks away and you go back for more, the science has changed and it is hard to get your hands around, much less you mind.
September 9, 2014
Why Can't I Be Fat?
There is a movement in this country to not discriminate against people because of their weight or size. As a person who is not small I applaud this movement. For too long there has been support and even laws to protect other minorities while “Fat” people are not only open to daily ridicule but blatant discrimination. Nowhere is this more evident than in the healthcare industry. It has reached the point where insurance companies only want to insure you against being sick if they think you won’t GET sick. That’s messed up. The whole reason for having insurance companies in the first place is to absorb the cost when you ARE sick. If you are overweight they figure you are more likely to need medical care. Knowing the medical industry and their love of studies I do not debate the validity of this. So what do they do to the people who need their services most? They discriminate against them and charge them more even if the obesity is not something they have control over. People can be alcoholics or drug users and they are said to have a “Sickness.” Fair enough. Overweight people are simply treated as lazy. That is unfair. Not everyone who has a weight problem has control over it. There are dozens of mitigating circumstances but they are cast aside by our judgmental society and insurance industry. Where’s the sympathy and understanding for them? When I was growing up there was an emphasis on being thin. In our culture thin people are viewed as more attractive than heavy ones. That’s nothing new. The level of scrutiny now, however, is higher than I can ever remember. My father had a crush on Marilyn Monroe and from what I gather he was not alone. She was a size 8. Today she would be considered a blimp in our ultra-thin society. She was an absolutely beautiful woman. I can’t picture people calling her fat. Something changed over the years. It is said to have come from the runways of fashion where models that look like heroin addicts have become the norm. Watch “The Devil Wears Prada” sometime and you’ll see what I mean. Somewhere along the way though, people started to make ultrathin into ultrachic. It was after my generation. The model I think best exemplifies the X generation is Cindy Crawford. She still looks amazing. She was never a toothpick, though. She was a normal, healthy woman. Today they would say she was too big. I listen to young adults talking and the topic that always comes up is, “What gym do you belong to?” It’s like everyone is in a gym these days. Society dictates it. With all due respect to people who suffer with alcoholism, young people treat alcoholics with more respect than obese people. Why is one considered a sickness while the other is just a weakness? That is just wrong. Both people need help. Then there are the mixed messages all around. People talk about all the sex in advertising and television and then preach abstinence to their children. In the same way we have doctors and “Wellness Professionals” telling us to stay away from carbs, fat and meat while commercials and restaurants throw bacon wrapped Angus sirloin burgers in a peppercorn ranch sauce with curly fries in front of us. (Actually that sounds pretty tasty) One good thing I’ll say about being fat as opposed to other illnesses. I can gorge myself on pizza and still drive home safely afterward. Take that Doc!
September 7, 2014
Sunday Exceprt "Crucible"
Mandrean drops a bomb at the end of this one.
“If everything goes exactly as you say we will still have a problem you have not considered. The northern border of Romadon is separated by a mountain range with only three passes. For protection Romadon’s King built fortresses in the passes to keep the goblins in check. If your assault succeeds, those forts would likely be reduced in strength or abandoned completely. We know the Cangons are up to something. If they were to take advantage of the situation and invade from the north, would your army fight their own brothers?”
Mandrean’s face turned pale. Then he said in a modest tone, “They have sworn allegiance to me and will serve me until death.” Again Gramlick laughed. “I once told a girl I loved her. It didn’t mean I was married to her. “What I am trying to say,” Gramlick concluded. “Is that even if things go exactly the way you desire, you will likely find yourself trapped between two armies in command of one about to mutiny.” Mandrean stomped back to his throne and drank from his goblet. “Why must you crush my dreams of conquest?” he asked of his former teacher. “I am looking out for your best interest,” Gramlick offered. “I have planned and won many battles for you. This is not one you were meant to win.” “So you want me to just give up on defeating Romadon?” Mandrean snapped. “Why must you defeat them at all?” Gramlick said as he limped toward the throne. “They are a powerful nation and would make a great ally. They have never made an aggressive move toward us. I am also told you are holding Princess Mirianna captive. Take her as your bride and unite the two houses. We would have markets for our goods and a valuable friend in the west.” “What is it about today that makes everyone want me to take a bride?” Mandrean asked rhetorically. “I am told she is a beauty beyond compare,” Gramlick prodded. “Well she won’t be for long,” Mandrean grinned. “I do not want an ally, a trading partner or a wife. I want Romadon, defeated, subjugated and crushed. As for their Princess, I have turned her over to our head jailor for interrogation. She will give up all her secrets. Then her body will be dismembered and returned to her father. Perhaps we can force him to attack us for a change.”
Gramlick shook his head and looked at the floor in disappointment. “My Lord, even after all these years your strongest trait is your tenacity. In this instance it will be your undoing.” Mandrean thought for a moment and smiled widely. “I do not think so, Old Friend. We will attack in a fortnight. We will win.” Gramlick stared at his master with contempt and placed his hand on his hip. “Just how do you figure that?” Mandrean sat up with fine posture and said, “Because I will lead the armies.” Gramlick nodded in acknowledgement though not in agreement. “So you believe your presence there will alter the outcome?” Mandrean’s smile continued to grow. “In a way.” Then he addressed the entire court. “Perhaps you have all heard of the Red Sapphire?”
“If everything goes exactly as you say we will still have a problem you have not considered. The northern border of Romadon is separated by a mountain range with only three passes. For protection Romadon’s King built fortresses in the passes to keep the goblins in check. If your assault succeeds, those forts would likely be reduced in strength or abandoned completely. We know the Cangons are up to something. If they were to take advantage of the situation and invade from the north, would your army fight their own brothers?”
Mandrean’s face turned pale. Then he said in a modest tone, “They have sworn allegiance to me and will serve me until death.” Again Gramlick laughed. “I once told a girl I loved her. It didn’t mean I was married to her. “What I am trying to say,” Gramlick concluded. “Is that even if things go exactly the way you desire, you will likely find yourself trapped between two armies in command of one about to mutiny.” Mandrean stomped back to his throne and drank from his goblet. “Why must you crush my dreams of conquest?” he asked of his former teacher. “I am looking out for your best interest,” Gramlick offered. “I have planned and won many battles for you. This is not one you were meant to win.” “So you want me to just give up on defeating Romadon?” Mandrean snapped. “Why must you defeat them at all?” Gramlick said as he limped toward the throne. “They are a powerful nation and would make a great ally. They have never made an aggressive move toward us. I am also told you are holding Princess Mirianna captive. Take her as your bride and unite the two houses. We would have markets for our goods and a valuable friend in the west.” “What is it about today that makes everyone want me to take a bride?” Mandrean asked rhetorically. “I am told she is a beauty beyond compare,” Gramlick prodded. “Well she won’t be for long,” Mandrean grinned. “I do not want an ally, a trading partner or a wife. I want Romadon, defeated, subjugated and crushed. As for their Princess, I have turned her over to our head jailor for interrogation. She will give up all her secrets. Then her body will be dismembered and returned to her father. Perhaps we can force him to attack us for a change.”
Gramlick shook his head and looked at the floor in disappointment. “My Lord, even after all these years your strongest trait is your tenacity. In this instance it will be your undoing.” Mandrean thought for a moment and smiled widely. “I do not think so, Old Friend. We will attack in a fortnight. We will win.” Gramlick stared at his master with contempt and placed his hand on his hip. “Just how do you figure that?” Mandrean sat up with fine posture and said, “Because I will lead the armies.” Gramlick nodded in acknowledgement though not in agreement. “So you believe your presence there will alter the outcome?” Mandrean’s smile continued to grow. “In a way.” Then he addressed the entire court. “Perhaps you have all heard of the Red Sapphire?”
September 6, 2014
Saturday Excerpt "Quest"
Here’s your Saturday excerpt.
Linvin’s head popped up and stared at his uncle. “Then what is this all about?” Anvar returned to his rocking and puffing. After a few moments he formulated his words and spoke, “Your mother was absolutely set against your leaving. What you have been experiencing tonight is the life your mother has envisioned for you since you were born.” “And my father’s plan?” “I can only hope his plan died with him. It was reckless and dangerous. With any luck at all, it would never bear fruit.” “Just tell me, Anvar, what was his plan?” “It is not for me to say,” Anvar answered. “It was not my plan.” “So what am I supposed to do?” Linvin demanded. Anvar looked up at the sky. Only a few clouds obscured the view. At that moment, one of the clouds had hidden the reflection of the moon. “Look at the sky Linvin. Tell me, is the moon out tonight?” Linvin leaned back and took in the sky. “Yes,” he answered simply. “How do you know?” asked Anvar. “I do not see the moon anywhere.” “It is right there,” pointed Linvin. “There are just some clouds blocking it from view.” “But you are sure it is there?” asked Anvar. “Prove it to me. How can you prove that the moon is there?”
“Well,” Linvin said as he rubbed his chin, “We can just wait here until it comes out from behind that cloud. Then you will see it.” “So even though the answer may be there all along, I will not be able to see it until the time is right?” Anvar asked. “Well, of course,” Linvin stated. “Unless you believe it is there all the time, then your only choice is to wait for it to reveal itself.” “So you are telling me that I must just believe the moon is there until it appears and proves it? You seem quite confident in the outcome. How do you know that the moon will appear again?” “I do not know,” said Linvin. “I guess it just always comes out sooner or later.” Anvar smiled and remarked, “And so will the answer to your question, my boy. The answer is out there. What you must do, is wait for it to present itself; just like your moon. Until then, you must believe the answer will appear.” Linvin looked at the sky and rocked his chair. “And what do I do until I get my answer?” “I would suggest giving your mother’s ideas a chance. No one said you have to get married right away. Get involved with the business. It needs you right now. I see a lot of your father in you and I think you will take to it quite well. Try things your mother’s way and get to know the woman who will always love you more than any other. Otherwise, the day will come when you will wish you had known her better. Besides, there is more to do around here than wait for the moon to poke through some clouds.”
Linvin’s head popped up and stared at his uncle. “Then what is this all about?” Anvar returned to his rocking and puffing. After a few moments he formulated his words and spoke, “Your mother was absolutely set against your leaving. What you have been experiencing tonight is the life your mother has envisioned for you since you were born.” “And my father’s plan?” “I can only hope his plan died with him. It was reckless and dangerous. With any luck at all, it would never bear fruit.” “Just tell me, Anvar, what was his plan?” “It is not for me to say,” Anvar answered. “It was not my plan.” “So what am I supposed to do?” Linvin demanded. Anvar looked up at the sky. Only a few clouds obscured the view. At that moment, one of the clouds had hidden the reflection of the moon. “Look at the sky Linvin. Tell me, is the moon out tonight?” Linvin leaned back and took in the sky. “Yes,” he answered simply. “How do you know?” asked Anvar. “I do not see the moon anywhere.” “It is right there,” pointed Linvin. “There are just some clouds blocking it from view.” “But you are sure it is there?” asked Anvar. “Prove it to me. How can you prove that the moon is there?”
“Well,” Linvin said as he rubbed his chin, “We can just wait here until it comes out from behind that cloud. Then you will see it.” “So even though the answer may be there all along, I will not be able to see it until the time is right?” Anvar asked. “Well, of course,” Linvin stated. “Unless you believe it is there all the time, then your only choice is to wait for it to reveal itself.” “So you are telling me that I must just believe the moon is there until it appears and proves it? You seem quite confident in the outcome. How do you know that the moon will appear again?” “I do not know,” said Linvin. “I guess it just always comes out sooner or later.” Anvar smiled and remarked, “And so will the answer to your question, my boy. The answer is out there. What you must do, is wait for it to present itself; just like your moon. Until then, you must believe the answer will appear.” Linvin looked at the sky and rocked his chair. “And what do I do until I get my answer?” “I would suggest giving your mother’s ideas a chance. No one said you have to get married right away. Get involved with the business. It needs you right now. I see a lot of your father in you and I think you will take to it quite well. Try things your mother’s way and get to know the woman who will always love you more than any other. Otherwise, the day will come when you will wish you had known her better. Besides, there is more to do around here than wait for the moon to poke through some clouds.”
September 3, 2014
Man I Hate Insurance
I am one of those people who calls things what they are. My case in point today is insurance. This is legalized racketeering. I feel like I am paying protection money to the mob only they find a way to make this legal. Then these companies have the unmitigated gall to go on the media and advertise for your business. I once had to get a bid for some insurance work (which they ended up not covering) and the contractor told me one of those simple but true sayings that stick with you. He said, “Insurance companies don’t make money by paying claims. They make money by collecting premiums.” Sounds like a dumb revelation, right? But look at all the commercials out there for insurance. They talk about how they’re there for you in a crisis and how quickly they pay your claim. Then they show some agent handing a blanket to a person who just had their home destroyed. Enjoy the blanket, Dude, because IF they pay your claim you’ll be at the Motel 6 for at least a month first. Not only do they want your money, but they want to pick and choose who they cover and how much to charge for their protection. If it’s health insurance they want you to take a physical. If you aren’t in perfect health it’s going to cost you. And if you need a procedure done, first you have to shell out your money as a “deductible” before they will kick in, even though you’re paying them to protect you. How about driving? Well, if you had a ticket or traded paint with another car 2 years ago you might as well be playing Grand Theft Auto in real life from their perspective. Oh, you have a straight A student dependent who just received their license? Yeah, that just doubled your rate. I had a flood in my basement where the sump pumps couldn’t keep up with the water pouring in and I was told it would only be covered if the water came in through a window or a pipe burst. So I would have been better off to open the windows and let the water in that way? What’s wrong with this picture? I have full coverage on my car and a stone cracked the windshield over about an 18 inch length. No problem. I have glass coverage, right? Well, it seems if the windshield needs to be replaced there is a $500 deductible that must be met first. It’s only $345 to have them replace it. I called a local place and they’ll do it on site for $225. Thank goodness I had the insurance for that one, not. So I called the insurance person and told them their insurance was worthless. They said chips would be covered free. Well the phone book has a dozen coupons for free or cheap chip repair. How is that worth what they are charging? But the worst part, the very worst part about insurance is that you have to have it. It’s the law and its common sense because God forbid something catastrophic does happen and you don’t have it. You could get sued or be paying till you’re past on. Man I hate insurance.
