C. Henry Martens's Blog, page 20
August 7, 2015
Book Review: You Can't Lie To Me
by Kari Carlisle
Have you ever gotten that strange feeling around someone – that feeling that something’s a little, well, off? I have. It’s like my gut is trying to tell me something, and unfortunately, I don’t always listen. That’s when I get burned.
From your friend telling you a little white lie to protect your feelings to the psychopath who is charming your pants off, literally, you can learn how to tell when someone is being deceitful, according to Janine Driver, author of You Can’t Lie To Me .
I borrowed this book from a co-worker and was glad I did. I took the quiz toward the beginning of the book and learned where I stand on the scale from sucker to human lie detector. Let’s just say I’ve got some work to do.
You Can’t Lie To Me spends the first quarter of the book explaining what you’re going to learn and why it’s important, which was a little frustrating because I really wanted to get into the meat of it. But once I did, I was better prepared having read through all the foundation stuff. It’s just like when you’re trying to read a person – you need to get a baseline reading before you can really read a person’s level of honesty. Hey, I learned something!
The book is full, I mean FULL, of great examples from Driver’s personal experience as well as experiences from her friends and colleagues and real life examples of scumbags you’ll recognize from the news. She also includes several testimonials throughout the book from people who have gone through her training. They’re not meant to be the kind of testimonials to drive sales of her products, but rather they are examples of people just like you and me whose lives have been changed for the better having learned these skills.
Having read the book myself, now, I am a total expert in telling if people are lying to me. Yeah, I’m lying. Driver even states, you will NOT be an expert having read this book. In fact you might even get worse with false confidence or worse, paranoia. Like any skill, you need to practice detecting deceit in people. Since I’ve returned my co-worker’s copy of the book, I have ordered a copy for myself that I will read again and keep for reference. Driver also has online examples on her website, www.youcantlietome.com, and some on YouTube as well so her readers can practice. She also has multi-day trainings and other products if you really want/need to get serious about learning this skill.
As I was reading the book, I reflected on a time several years ago when I was actually investigated by law enforcement. I had been falsely accused of a crime, and I didn’t even realize when they interviewed me that it was me they were investigating. Of course being innocent I had no reason not to be completely truthful in my answers to them, so the interview naturally went well. Now I can see the whole interview like I’m seeing it through another person’s eyes, “watching” the law enforcement officers questioning the “suspect” and paying attention to how the questions are asked and how the suspect responds. Fascinating.
Time to try this out for myself... As a manager I do a fair bit of hiring, and though I was still only halfway through the book, I decided to try to get a baseline (things like body language and word choice) on a series of interviewees and see if I could at least read any changes in their baseline behavior. Out of six interviews, there was one who demonstrated a clear-as-day change in her baseline behavior! She started the interview speaking with confidence about her abilities. As soon as I explained the position in more detail, she clearly lost confidence. Though I don’t have reason to believe she lied to me during the interview, she physically shrunk into herself and her answers became more vague and less confident. After the interview was over, I turned to my colleague who conducted the interviews with me and explained to him what I had witnessed. He hadn’t noticed!
While my first little “success” with reading people feels pretty good, I do realize that this is a complicated skill that takes time and practice. But just knowing that it’s possible and practicing at being more aware, I know I can develop this skill that will be useful in my personal and professional life.
According to Driver, everyone is a liar. Though most of us tell the occasional lie to protect someone’s feelings or to get what we want, there are lies that can be damaging to relationships. I recommend this book to anyone who:Has ever wondered if their mechanic, realtor, or car salesman is telling them the truthHas been burned by a trusted friend, family-member, or spouseIs employed and works with peopleKnows peopleTalks to peopleOkay, everyone
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www.readmota.com
Have you ever gotten that strange feeling around someone – that feeling that something’s a little, well, off? I have. It’s like my gut is trying to tell me something, and unfortunately, I don’t always listen. That’s when I get burned.
From your friend telling you a little white lie to protect your feelings to the psychopath who is charming your pants off, literally, you can learn how to tell when someone is being deceitful, according to Janine Driver, author of You Can’t Lie To Me .
I borrowed this book from a co-worker and was glad I did. I took the quiz toward the beginning of the book and learned where I stand on the scale from sucker to human lie detector. Let’s just say I’ve got some work to do.
You Can’t Lie To Me spends the first quarter of the book explaining what you’re going to learn and why it’s important, which was a little frustrating because I really wanted to get into the meat of it. But once I did, I was better prepared having read through all the foundation stuff. It’s just like when you’re trying to read a person – you need to get a baseline reading before you can really read a person’s level of honesty. Hey, I learned something!
The book is full, I mean FULL, of great examples from Driver’s personal experience as well as experiences from her friends and colleagues and real life examples of scumbags you’ll recognize from the news. She also includes several testimonials throughout the book from people who have gone through her training. They’re not meant to be the kind of testimonials to drive sales of her products, but rather they are examples of people just like you and me whose lives have been changed for the better having learned these skills.
Having read the book myself, now, I am a total expert in telling if people are lying to me. Yeah, I’m lying. Driver even states, you will NOT be an expert having read this book. In fact you might even get worse with false confidence or worse, paranoia. Like any skill, you need to practice detecting deceit in people. Since I’ve returned my co-worker’s copy of the book, I have ordered a copy for myself that I will read again and keep for reference. Driver also has online examples on her website, www.youcantlietome.com, and some on YouTube as well so her readers can practice. She also has multi-day trainings and other products if you really want/need to get serious about learning this skill.
As I was reading the book, I reflected on a time several years ago when I was actually investigated by law enforcement. I had been falsely accused of a crime, and I didn’t even realize when they interviewed me that it was me they were investigating. Of course being innocent I had no reason not to be completely truthful in my answers to them, so the interview naturally went well. Now I can see the whole interview like I’m seeing it through another person’s eyes, “watching” the law enforcement officers questioning the “suspect” and paying attention to how the questions are asked and how the suspect responds. Fascinating.
Time to try this out for myself... As a manager I do a fair bit of hiring, and though I was still only halfway through the book, I decided to try to get a baseline (things like body language and word choice) on a series of interviewees and see if I could at least read any changes in their baseline behavior. Out of six interviews, there was one who demonstrated a clear-as-day change in her baseline behavior! She started the interview speaking with confidence about her abilities. As soon as I explained the position in more detail, she clearly lost confidence. Though I don’t have reason to believe she lied to me during the interview, she physically shrunk into herself and her answers became more vague and less confident. After the interview was over, I turned to my colleague who conducted the interviews with me and explained to him what I had witnessed. He hadn’t noticed!
While my first little “success” with reading people feels pretty good, I do realize that this is a complicated skill that takes time and practice. But just knowing that it’s possible and practicing at being more aware, I know I can develop this skill that will be useful in my personal and professional life.
According to Driver, everyone is a liar. Though most of us tell the occasional lie to protect someone’s feelings or to get what we want, there are lies that can be damaging to relationships. I recommend this book to anyone who:Has ever wondered if their mechanic, realtor, or car salesman is telling them the truthHas been burned by a trusted friend, family-member, or spouseIs employed and works with peopleKnows peopleTalks to peopleOkay, everyone
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www.readmota.com
July 31, 2015
Step One to Survival: Think Bad Thoughts
by Kari Carlisle
©John A Carlisle PhotographyWherever you may sit on the scale of preparedness from those who scoff at “preppers” to those who have an underground bunker with a 10-year supply of food, water, and ammo, practicing a little preparedness can literally save your life. We may never face a global apocalypse in our lifetime, but they can be the small things that put us at death’s door.
Recently my husband was away, and I took the dog for a day trip for a hike in the woods and a little shopping. My starter went out in the parking lot of the Home Depot, and I was stranded. Fortunately I have roadside assistance, a cell phone and a friend living nearby, and we were well taken care of for the day. But what if I had broken down in the woods with no cell phone service?
The other day I took the dog for a hike on a trail just a couple of miles from home. Afterward, the day was still young, the air cool, and I felt like exploring a bit in the Jeep. Without thinking, I ended up far from home with no food or water, and the sun was getting hot. I wasn’t lost, and I was able to get some water from a store 35 miles from home, but what if I had broken down? What I intended to be a 20-minute jaunt turned into a 2-hour, nearly 100-mile drive. I just wasn’t thinking.
I rely on my husband a lot for his clear head and common sense, qualities I don’t always possess in critical times. What any of us lack in clear heads and common sense, we can at least make up for with a little preparedness. Whether you’re bitten by zombie or by a snake, what are you going to do? If help is not readily available, you better have a plan.
I put myself in survival situations all the time. So do you. We just don’t always think of them that way. What I need to do, what you need to do, is take a little time to think bad thoughts. Think about all the bad things that can go wrong – at home, on the road, out in nature, wherever I/you go. Then think about how I/you might handle those possible scenarios. What kinds of things would make the scenario not so bad?
One thing I did last year was to fill a fanny pack with a few supplies for my daily hikes. I worried so much about snakes and feral dogs (yes, I have to worry about feral dogs where I live), I bought an air horn and citronella spray as dog deterrents and carry those along with some activated charcoal for snake bites. Having those things with me provides a little peace of mind.
Do it NOW. Think bad thoughts. Make lists of all the things that would be good to have. Go shopping. Have enough “survival stuff” to keep at home, in the car(s), in your backpack. You’ll sleep better tonight.
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www.readmota.com
©John A Carlisle PhotographyWherever you may sit on the scale of preparedness from those who scoff at “preppers” to those who have an underground bunker with a 10-year supply of food, water, and ammo, practicing a little preparedness can literally save your life. We may never face a global apocalypse in our lifetime, but they can be the small things that put us at death’s door.Recently my husband was away, and I took the dog for a day trip for a hike in the woods and a little shopping. My starter went out in the parking lot of the Home Depot, and I was stranded. Fortunately I have roadside assistance, a cell phone and a friend living nearby, and we were well taken care of for the day. But what if I had broken down in the woods with no cell phone service?
The other day I took the dog for a hike on a trail just a couple of miles from home. Afterward, the day was still young, the air cool, and I felt like exploring a bit in the Jeep. Without thinking, I ended up far from home with no food or water, and the sun was getting hot. I wasn’t lost, and I was able to get some water from a store 35 miles from home, but what if I had broken down? What I intended to be a 20-minute jaunt turned into a 2-hour, nearly 100-mile drive. I just wasn’t thinking.
I rely on my husband a lot for his clear head and common sense, qualities I don’t always possess in critical times. What any of us lack in clear heads and common sense, we can at least make up for with a little preparedness. Whether you’re bitten by zombie or by a snake, what are you going to do? If help is not readily available, you better have a plan.
I put myself in survival situations all the time. So do you. We just don’t always think of them that way. What I need to do, what you need to do, is take a little time to think bad thoughts. Think about all the bad things that can go wrong – at home, on the road, out in nature, wherever I/you go. Then think about how I/you might handle those possible scenarios. What kinds of things would make the scenario not so bad?
One thing I did last year was to fill a fanny pack with a few supplies for my daily hikes. I worried so much about snakes and feral dogs (yes, I have to worry about feral dogs where I live), I bought an air horn and citronella spray as dog deterrents and carry those along with some activated charcoal for snake bites. Having those things with me provides a little peace of mind.
Do it NOW. Think bad thoughts. Make lists of all the things that would be good to have. Go shopping. Have enough “survival stuff” to keep at home, in the car(s), in your backpack. You’ll sleep better tonight.
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www.readmota.com
July 23, 2015
Burnin’ Rubber!
by C. Henry Martens
Remember? Do you remember those hot summer nights… and suddenly you heard a revving beast of an engine a few blocks away, and the squeal of tires smoking as they laid two never ending black stripes down the boiling asphalt?
Heart pounding, you knew what it was, and you hopped into your favorite ride to find the poor sucker who had dared to invade your turf… and invite a race.
Those were the days.
Big cars, horsepower, and cheap gas… and tires salvaged from the back of the local service station. Anything with decent tread, that you could burn off in a single evening, or maybe a couple of weeks if they were good enough. What could be better?
The street lights glared down on intersections like strobe lights on one of Shakespeare’s plays. The girls wore mini skirts, hot pants, and halter tops, the cooler overflowed with beer, and the cloying scent of maryjane wafted from cracked windows and dark corners.
But the CARS were what made all of it possible. It was the day of muscle in mechanical form. Beasts ran the streets to illicit adrenaline and thicken the air with testosterone.
The hot rods of the 50’s had suddenly gotten some competition from Detroit. So when the ‘55 Belairs, hemi Desotos and Model A Fords showed up, there was also new iron that came out to play.
What was the first mass produced muscle car? Well personally, I think it was the ’57 Olds 88. With a 371 cubic inch engine, a 4 speed Hydramatic transmission, and a four barrel carburetor, I had the Highway patrol tell me that their late sixties Chryslers would do a reliable hundred and forty miles per hour… and I was noticeably pulling away from them. But you can’t outrun a damn radio.
But the beginning is one thing, and the belly of the beast is another. The mid to late sixties were the true days of thunder. The year that matters, that truly ushered in the muscle car era, was 1964. The big three American car manufacturers all offered something different that year. Muscle for the masses. It was the year that introduced the Mustang, Malibu, Barracuda, 4-4-2, GTO and others to the tribe of speed and power crazed adrenaline junkies that were the baby boom generation. Soon to follow were Roadrunners, Chargers, Shelbys, Camaros, and a plethora of chase movies from Hollywood.
My gang seemed to be most attracted to GTOs. The progressive linkage on that six-pack was formidable to some, but we tuned our cars by eye and sound and wasted tires as though they were free. And they were, because we all either worked at gas stations or had friends who worked at gas stations where they sold tires and put the discards in the back. I can’t think of a single owner that ever complained or prohibited us from scrounging used rubber from their tire piles.
While GTOs were the bread and butter of the gang, we owned almost everything. There were a lot of convertibles, all of the GTOs that I can remember, as well as a ’49 Plymouth Mustang, an early Challenger, a Pontiac Bonneville, and several Caddys. The hardtops included a 4-4-2, a Bronco, a couple of ‘50s Chevys, an early ‘60s Vette, and a hemi Desoto that ended up contributing that motor to one of the Chevys. Japan was even represented by the first year 240Z in lime green, a bright yellow, two cylinder, air cooled Honda, and an old run-into-the-ground Opel wagon with a dragging tailpipe that we called the “Canyon Racer” (but only when going downhill).
Those days are gone now. They have evaporated like the smoke from those burning tires, never to return. I can’t help believing that if they were to come back, cheap gas and twice pipes, that the kids lost in their video screens would look up as they heard the distant rumble emanating from glass packs, perhaps catch the scent of overheated oil and rubber, and they might put that cell phone down to twist a wrench or drink a beer on a hot summer night… and appreciate a long and shapely leg as it exits a polished bit of paint and chrome.
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www.readmota.com
Remember? Do you remember those hot summer nights… and suddenly you heard a revving beast of an engine a few blocks away, and the squeal of tires smoking as they laid two never ending black stripes down the boiling asphalt?
Heart pounding, you knew what it was, and you hopped into your favorite ride to find the poor sucker who had dared to invade your turf… and invite a race.
Those were the days.
Big cars, horsepower, and cheap gas… and tires salvaged from the back of the local service station. Anything with decent tread, that you could burn off in a single evening, or maybe a couple of weeks if they were good enough. What could be better?
The street lights glared down on intersections like strobe lights on one of Shakespeare’s plays. The girls wore mini skirts, hot pants, and halter tops, the cooler overflowed with beer, and the cloying scent of maryjane wafted from cracked windows and dark corners.
But the CARS were what made all of it possible. It was the day of muscle in mechanical form. Beasts ran the streets to illicit adrenaline and thicken the air with testosterone.
The hot rods of the 50’s had suddenly gotten some competition from Detroit. So when the ‘55 Belairs, hemi Desotos and Model A Fords showed up, there was also new iron that came out to play.
What was the first mass produced muscle car? Well personally, I think it was the ’57 Olds 88. With a 371 cubic inch engine, a 4 speed Hydramatic transmission, and a four barrel carburetor, I had the Highway patrol tell me that their late sixties Chryslers would do a reliable hundred and forty miles per hour… and I was noticeably pulling away from them. But you can’t outrun a damn radio.
But the beginning is one thing, and the belly of the beast is another. The mid to late sixties were the true days of thunder. The year that matters, that truly ushered in the muscle car era, was 1964. The big three American car manufacturers all offered something different that year. Muscle for the masses. It was the year that introduced the Mustang, Malibu, Barracuda, 4-4-2, GTO and others to the tribe of speed and power crazed adrenaline junkies that were the baby boom generation. Soon to follow were Roadrunners, Chargers, Shelbys, Camaros, and a plethora of chase movies from Hollywood.
My gang seemed to be most attracted to GTOs. The progressive linkage on that six-pack was formidable to some, but we tuned our cars by eye and sound and wasted tires as though they were free. And they were, because we all either worked at gas stations or had friends who worked at gas stations where they sold tires and put the discards in the back. I can’t think of a single owner that ever complained or prohibited us from scrounging used rubber from their tire piles.
While GTOs were the bread and butter of the gang, we owned almost everything. There were a lot of convertibles, all of the GTOs that I can remember, as well as a ’49 Plymouth Mustang, an early Challenger, a Pontiac Bonneville, and several Caddys. The hardtops included a 4-4-2, a Bronco, a couple of ‘50s Chevys, an early ‘60s Vette, and a hemi Desoto that ended up contributing that motor to one of the Chevys. Japan was even represented by the first year 240Z in lime green, a bright yellow, two cylinder, air cooled Honda, and an old run-into-the-ground Opel wagon with a dragging tailpipe that we called the “Canyon Racer” (but only when going downhill).
Those days are gone now. They have evaporated like the smoke from those burning tires, never to return. I can’t help believing that if they were to come back, cheap gas and twice pipes, that the kids lost in their video screens would look up as they heard the distant rumble emanating from glass packs, perhaps catch the scent of overheated oil and rubber, and they might put that cell phone down to twist a wrench or drink a beer on a hot summer night… and appreciate a long and shapely leg as it exits a polished bit of paint and chrome.
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www.readmota.com
July 17, 2015
Short Story: Resurrection
by C. Henry Martens
Disclosure: contains mature themes
The crowd was on its feet, pounding the air with as much noise as the on-stage performance. Lights, smoke, and high volume rose to a fever pitch, and the masses responded. The energy of the mob was harvested, and the ship jumped into the void.
Grinding against me, the redhead in the bright yellow wifebeater t-shirt rode my thigh like a rodeo rider. She was lost in the rhythms, the excitement of the crush, and the mild euphoric prescribed at the doors as we arrived. All about us, members of our age group gyrated in steady, continuous energy. And after all, that was the point, wasn’t it? I relaxed into the moment and pulled her close, feeling the tightness of her body beneath her clothing.
Centuries ago a man had played about with math and physics as a child plays with blocks. His imagination and hard work led to a theory about virtual particles… and the idea lay dormant after initial excitement, investigation, and finally neglect. Some time later another picked it up. The mathematical proofs became the obsession of a cyborg mind contained in a mechanical device, a being that did not age, nor fear, nor love. The brain had only one desire, if desire it was… to reason.
Time and effort led to revelation. Virtual particles were, under naturally occurring conditions, short lived. They tore each other apart, almost as they formed. But under a special circumstance, forming at the edge of a black hole, an amazing event occurred. The particles formed, and one escaped while the other descended into the maelstrom. As these escaping particles were negatively charged energy and negative in mass, the surviving particle was realized as anti-gravity.
Ahhhh… but how to use the new discovery? Containing a miniscule black hole was easy, but capturing a fleeing particle of anti-gravity became problematic. In a sudden epiphany, following a successful experiment, it was noted that the anti-gravity particle was slowed significantly when a group of observing interns became excited over the results. Where other types of energy were applied and failed miserably, excitement generated by humans filled the space and effectively provided a control that could be used on anti-gravity. In a large venue, particles could be stopped entirely to be collected and eventually focused as they were released in a specific direction.
Testing began, and without much expense or time involved, top energy-releasing conduits were identified. They all came down to two things, sex and blood. I stayed within my peers as advised for the sexually stimulating theatre but enjoyed a few blood matches with a more mixed crowd. More men but women, too, attended the blood sports, and the crowd tended to be older. I felt for the participants, those criminals who had shown themselves to be unable or unwilling to conform. Once again the yellow T-shirt focused my attention as the redhead’s hands drew my head down and between her breasts. I was willing and anticipating the after-party.
Resources on the home planet were depleted. Mining asteroids as well as other planets had helped, but the end was soon apparent to the powers that be. The human species would have to abandon Earth or die.
Efforts magnified, and minerals became the stuff of life as huge ships were built to transport populations to far reaches of the universe in one-way migrations. No one knew if the effort would be successful, but it was too late for anything else. Those who stayed behind were provided a better chance in a less crowded world, and those who left were provided the same… in the emptiness and possibility of space.
Hands cupped my derriere, and I knew they were not my redheaded friend’s, as hers were occupied in a place I knew them to be. She lifted her gaze and locked it over my shoulder, obviously appreciating what she was seeing. A tongue, wet, licked my earlobe, and I turned to find the dark-skinned woman to my other side grinning at me… and at my anticipated paramour. The women embraced me between them and worked my shirt up and over my head. Soon they were bare chested as well, and the three of us became the hub of an energy wheel. Those surrounding were chanting and applauding as we moved toward a climax. Others formed their own wheels about the auditorium, and chaos reigned.
The music swelled into crescendo, and the drug-enhanced horde ebbed and flowed with rhythm, crashing against the heavy throb of deep bass and seething lyrics. Within the great ark the engineers and cosmologists worked to direct our course toward a promising star, eventually exceeding the speed of light. Soon we would reach perihelion and reverse the thrust of the anti-gravity engine. It appeared that the Resurrection Tour, fueled by the best music of the past centuries, was on track. It was somehow appropriate that the ancients provided the most popular tunes.
The New Pink Floyd Group was just about to leave the stage, and the Emerson, Lake, and Palmer Reunion Band would be next. The Hatchling Eagles, New Cream, and the rest would be performing soon, and at transition the (Scarab) Beatles had been given the honor of performing. Excitement was high, and the crowd roared as ELP began, “Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends…”
Image credit: Victor Habbick, dream designs, and chrisroll at freedigitalphotos.net
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Disclosure: contains mature themes
The crowd was on its feet, pounding the air with as much noise as the on-stage performance. Lights, smoke, and high volume rose to a fever pitch, and the masses responded. The energy of the mob was harvested, and the ship jumped into the void.
Grinding against me, the redhead in the bright yellow wifebeater t-shirt rode my thigh like a rodeo rider. She was lost in the rhythms, the excitement of the crush, and the mild euphoric prescribed at the doors as we arrived. All about us, members of our age group gyrated in steady, continuous energy. And after all, that was the point, wasn’t it? I relaxed into the moment and pulled her close, feeling the tightness of her body beneath her clothing.
Centuries ago a man had played about with math and physics as a child plays with blocks. His imagination and hard work led to a theory about virtual particles… and the idea lay dormant after initial excitement, investigation, and finally neglect. Some time later another picked it up. The mathematical proofs became the obsession of a cyborg mind contained in a mechanical device, a being that did not age, nor fear, nor love. The brain had only one desire, if desire it was… to reason.
Time and effort led to revelation. Virtual particles were, under naturally occurring conditions, short lived. They tore each other apart, almost as they formed. But under a special circumstance, forming at the edge of a black hole, an amazing event occurred. The particles formed, and one escaped while the other descended into the maelstrom. As these escaping particles were negatively charged energy and negative in mass, the surviving particle was realized as anti-gravity.
Ahhhh… but how to use the new discovery? Containing a miniscule black hole was easy, but capturing a fleeing particle of anti-gravity became problematic. In a sudden epiphany, following a successful experiment, it was noted that the anti-gravity particle was slowed significantly when a group of observing interns became excited over the results. Where other types of energy were applied and failed miserably, excitement generated by humans filled the space and effectively provided a control that could be used on anti-gravity. In a large venue, particles could be stopped entirely to be collected and eventually focused as they were released in a specific direction.
Testing began, and without much expense or time involved, top energy-releasing conduits were identified. They all came down to two things, sex and blood. I stayed within my peers as advised for the sexually stimulating theatre but enjoyed a few blood matches with a more mixed crowd. More men but women, too, attended the blood sports, and the crowd tended to be older. I felt for the participants, those criminals who had shown themselves to be unable or unwilling to conform. Once again the yellow T-shirt focused my attention as the redhead’s hands drew my head down and between her breasts. I was willing and anticipating the after-party.
Resources on the home planet were depleted. Mining asteroids as well as other planets had helped, but the end was soon apparent to the powers that be. The human species would have to abandon Earth or die.
Efforts magnified, and minerals became the stuff of life as huge ships were built to transport populations to far reaches of the universe in one-way migrations. No one knew if the effort would be successful, but it was too late for anything else. Those who stayed behind were provided a better chance in a less crowded world, and those who left were provided the same… in the emptiness and possibility of space.
Hands cupped my derriere, and I knew they were not my redheaded friend’s, as hers were occupied in a place I knew them to be. She lifted her gaze and locked it over my shoulder, obviously appreciating what she was seeing. A tongue, wet, licked my earlobe, and I turned to find the dark-skinned woman to my other side grinning at me… and at my anticipated paramour. The women embraced me between them and worked my shirt up and over my head. Soon they were bare chested as well, and the three of us became the hub of an energy wheel. Those surrounding were chanting and applauding as we moved toward a climax. Others formed their own wheels about the auditorium, and chaos reigned.
The music swelled into crescendo, and the drug-enhanced horde ebbed and flowed with rhythm, crashing against the heavy throb of deep bass and seething lyrics. Within the great ark the engineers and cosmologists worked to direct our course toward a promising star, eventually exceeding the speed of light. Soon we would reach perihelion and reverse the thrust of the anti-gravity engine. It appeared that the Resurrection Tour, fueled by the best music of the past centuries, was on track. It was somehow appropriate that the ancients provided the most popular tunes.
The New Pink Floyd Group was just about to leave the stage, and the Emerson, Lake, and Palmer Reunion Band would be next. The Hatchling Eagles, New Cream, and the rest would be performing soon, and at transition the (Scarab) Beatles had been given the honor of performing. Excitement was high, and the crowd roared as ELP began, “Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends…”
Image credit: Victor Habbick, dream designs, and chrisroll at freedigitalphotos.net
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July 10, 2015
A Tale of Three Book Covers
By Kari Carlisle and C. Henry Martens
Kari:Having recently revealed the book cover for the third book in the Monster of the Apocalypse Saga, C. and I have been reflecting on the process of developing each of the different covers in the series. Though we think we’ve been successful at maintaining some consistency, the process for each has been vastly different.
Kari:For the first cover, Monster of the Apocalypse, we ran a competition through 99Designs.com. We had a preconceived idea how we wanted the cover to look, and in retrospect, the look was probably too retro, more 70’s pulp sci-fi cover than a cleaner and more modern look.
C:Boy, ain’t that the truth. What a learning experience. The cover we had envisioned was originally supposed to involve the three main characters as well as the sci-fi future vehicle. Our idea was to bring in the audience that would identify with the characters, young, old, male, female, and by using the techie vehicle we would appeal to sci-fi fans. But retro it was, and thankfully the cover idea percolated beyond what we first had in mind.
Kari:The process of running a competition was fun and frustrating. Trying to get 30 or so artists, many of them with little potential, to get the cover looking just the way we envisioned was difficult. One artist in particular refused to comply with our directions, but the resulting work was intriguing. Several of the entries were downright cartoonish.
C:The upside was that we had all these ideas floating around, and some of the artists came up with some inspiration right away. The downside was that we had all these ideas floating around, and some of the artists came up with ideas they didn’t want to turn loose. I had the idea that the cover should look like what was in the book, and some of the artists had the opinion that what was in the pages had little to do with the cover. I consider it intellectual honesty to attempt to give a feeling for the book by using elements from the story and so a bone of contention with some artists. One of the best artists, a guy with immense talent, was one of those who wished to go in the other direction, and his work was so compelling that we kept him involved until the end. But the final cover is not his.
Kari:In the end we chose a cover that came closest to our vision:
Kari:Thankfully, the artist, Milan Jovanovic, provided all the files and layers he used to produce the final work. Once Monster of the Apocalypse was published, we received feedback that the cover would be so much more dramatic with just the sinister face in the sky. With the images of the main characters easily removed, we had the revised, final Monster of the Apocalypse cover.
C:It was like a bolt of lightning striking, when we played with the cover by removing the two young people and the vehicle. Very similar to finding the right title. An electric thrill that shoots through you.
Kari:With the imminent publication of the second book in the series, There Where the Power Lies, we knew we wanted a similar look as the first cover, but since each book in the series can be read as a stand-alone book, we wanted to avoid looking identical.
C:Kari and I felt strongly on the continuity of the covers being important. By the way, maybe this is a good place to mention an ongoing discussion that Kari and I are having. I like to consider There Where the Power Lies as the first book of the series. Chronologically it is, as it takes place twenty years before Monster of the Apocalypse. But I did write Monsterfirst, and we published it first. I just had no idea where the second book was going to end up, and now wish that I had written it first. My fault, but as the books can be read in either order it is more a snafu between Kari as editor and marketing guru and me as the author than anything that affects the reader.
Kari:For book two, we opted to hire a book cover artist directly, rather than run another contest. We found one who does work similar to our first cover, Misha Coutiño Richet from The Book Cover Realm. This time, we wanted a sinister robot face and a different overall color scheme. C. and I agreed on a dark blue-green.
C:After the first cover gelled, we had a theme that was compelling for the future covers. Nice in that we had no real design/format issues to be solved, just choosing the proper background and central image.
Kari:Though the talented artist came up with some very compelling and high-quality drafts, they were decidedly cyborg-looking. As much as we liked what she did, the book has nothing to do with cyborgs, and you sci-fi fans understand – there’s a big difference between a robot and a cyborg. So we had to insist on a robotic face.
C:I had the feeling that our artist was getting frustrated, as she gave us some really beautiful images, and we turned them down. Our robot needed to be clearly robotic, and the images we were getting were definitely female with mechanical attributes.
Kari:She ended up having to create the face digitally rather than starting from a photographic image, and we were generally pleased with the results:
Kari:Nevertheless, we still had some visions about how we wanted the face to look that were lost in translation to the artist. So we paid her, and she supplied us with the cover in layers. We were able to make some adjustments on our own, and we had our final version.
C:It was important to me that we get the green glow in the eye. Some of the smallest details are impossible to get across when the other person has a different mental image.
Kari:The cover for book three, Hell Follows After, fell in our laps. We found a pre-designed book cover that came close to fitting in with the other covers, and though we didn’t start with any preconceived ideas of how this cover should look, we both felt it fit in well and reflected the story well.
C:Fell into Kari’s lap. She found it. I give her full credit. When she showed it to me I was immediately on board, but so much that I was hesitant about the sudden enthusiasm. I kept looking at it several times a day and could not find much to complain about, just minor tweaks. It was almost too good.
Kari: We contacted the artist, Ida Jansson from Amygdala Design, to ensure we would be able to get the cover in layers so we could make some minor changes, and we made the purchase.
C:Another issue popped up in the title we had chosen. I had come up with the idea, and Kari had accepted it, a title that linked the western flavor of the book to the idea that the future held something ominous. The title was to be Yoke of Destiny, but it just didn’t sit well with me. When my son-in-law asked if it was about eggs, I decided to search for a better alternative. Kari and I both feel strongly attracted to links to ancient stories, myths, legends, so I was looking for a connection to The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse… but everything was already used. So a sudden random though crossed my mind about what followed after the horsemen? Well, it was right there… Hell Follows After. And that fits what is going on in the book. Click!
Kari:A few image tweaks later, we had our final version:
C:Going in to this process, I believe Kari and I both had some preconceptions that needed to be dropped. Our initial intransigence to working with the artist’s own notions may have impeded our progress to begin with. Yet I believe our insistence on components faithful to the story was important. The process is made more difficult because the artists haven’t read the work and so have no clue what the pages contain other than a brief synopsis, if you provide one. So, sure, go into the process with ideas, but leave room to change your mind, even after you have made a decision. This is a fluid process, as it should be.
Kari:In fact the process has been so rewarding, I have been itching to take a stab at doing some cover design myself. Don’t worry – I’ll give it up if I’m no good at it. I am, after all, a wordsmith, not a designer. But I still can’t help thinking I can do better than a lot of indie book covers I’m seeing out there. To say you can’t judge a book by its cover may be a truism, but it doesn’t keep your readers from judging your book by its cover!
Please tell us which cover you like best.
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www.readmota.com
Kari:Having recently revealed the book cover for the third book in the Monster of the Apocalypse Saga, C. and I have been reflecting on the process of developing each of the different covers in the series. Though we think we’ve been successful at maintaining some consistency, the process for each has been vastly different.
Kari:For the first cover, Monster of the Apocalypse, we ran a competition through 99Designs.com. We had a preconceived idea how we wanted the cover to look, and in retrospect, the look was probably too retro, more 70’s pulp sci-fi cover than a cleaner and more modern look.
C:Boy, ain’t that the truth. What a learning experience. The cover we had envisioned was originally supposed to involve the three main characters as well as the sci-fi future vehicle. Our idea was to bring in the audience that would identify with the characters, young, old, male, female, and by using the techie vehicle we would appeal to sci-fi fans. But retro it was, and thankfully the cover idea percolated beyond what we first had in mind.
Kari:The process of running a competition was fun and frustrating. Trying to get 30 or so artists, many of them with little potential, to get the cover looking just the way we envisioned was difficult. One artist in particular refused to comply with our directions, but the resulting work was intriguing. Several of the entries were downright cartoonish.
C:The upside was that we had all these ideas floating around, and some of the artists came up with some inspiration right away. The downside was that we had all these ideas floating around, and some of the artists came up with ideas they didn’t want to turn loose. I had the idea that the cover should look like what was in the book, and some of the artists had the opinion that what was in the pages had little to do with the cover. I consider it intellectual honesty to attempt to give a feeling for the book by using elements from the story and so a bone of contention with some artists. One of the best artists, a guy with immense talent, was one of those who wished to go in the other direction, and his work was so compelling that we kept him involved until the end. But the final cover is not his.
Kari:In the end we chose a cover that came closest to our vision:
Kari:Thankfully, the artist, Milan Jovanovic, provided all the files and layers he used to produce the final work. Once Monster of the Apocalypse was published, we received feedback that the cover would be so much more dramatic with just the sinister face in the sky. With the images of the main characters easily removed, we had the revised, final Monster of the Apocalypse cover.
C:It was like a bolt of lightning striking, when we played with the cover by removing the two young people and the vehicle. Very similar to finding the right title. An electric thrill that shoots through you.
Kari:With the imminent publication of the second book in the series, There Where the Power Lies, we knew we wanted a similar look as the first cover, but since each book in the series can be read as a stand-alone book, we wanted to avoid looking identical.
C:Kari and I felt strongly on the continuity of the covers being important. By the way, maybe this is a good place to mention an ongoing discussion that Kari and I are having. I like to consider There Where the Power Lies as the first book of the series. Chronologically it is, as it takes place twenty years before Monster of the Apocalypse. But I did write Monsterfirst, and we published it first. I just had no idea where the second book was going to end up, and now wish that I had written it first. My fault, but as the books can be read in either order it is more a snafu between Kari as editor and marketing guru and me as the author than anything that affects the reader.
Kari:For book two, we opted to hire a book cover artist directly, rather than run another contest. We found one who does work similar to our first cover, Misha Coutiño Richet from The Book Cover Realm. This time, we wanted a sinister robot face and a different overall color scheme. C. and I agreed on a dark blue-green.
C:After the first cover gelled, we had a theme that was compelling for the future covers. Nice in that we had no real design/format issues to be solved, just choosing the proper background and central image.
Kari:Though the talented artist came up with some very compelling and high-quality drafts, they were decidedly cyborg-looking. As much as we liked what she did, the book has nothing to do with cyborgs, and you sci-fi fans understand – there’s a big difference between a robot and a cyborg. So we had to insist on a robotic face.
C:I had the feeling that our artist was getting frustrated, as she gave us some really beautiful images, and we turned them down. Our robot needed to be clearly robotic, and the images we were getting were definitely female with mechanical attributes.
Kari:She ended up having to create the face digitally rather than starting from a photographic image, and we were generally pleased with the results:
Kari:Nevertheless, we still had some visions about how we wanted the face to look that were lost in translation to the artist. So we paid her, and she supplied us with the cover in layers. We were able to make some adjustments on our own, and we had our final version.
C:It was important to me that we get the green glow in the eye. Some of the smallest details are impossible to get across when the other person has a different mental image.
Kari:The cover for book three, Hell Follows After, fell in our laps. We found a pre-designed book cover that came close to fitting in with the other covers, and though we didn’t start with any preconceived ideas of how this cover should look, we both felt it fit in well and reflected the story well.
C:Fell into Kari’s lap. She found it. I give her full credit. When she showed it to me I was immediately on board, but so much that I was hesitant about the sudden enthusiasm. I kept looking at it several times a day and could not find much to complain about, just minor tweaks. It was almost too good.
Kari: We contacted the artist, Ida Jansson from Amygdala Design, to ensure we would be able to get the cover in layers so we could make some minor changes, and we made the purchase.
C:Another issue popped up in the title we had chosen. I had come up with the idea, and Kari had accepted it, a title that linked the western flavor of the book to the idea that the future held something ominous. The title was to be Yoke of Destiny, but it just didn’t sit well with me. When my son-in-law asked if it was about eggs, I decided to search for a better alternative. Kari and I both feel strongly attracted to links to ancient stories, myths, legends, so I was looking for a connection to The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse… but everything was already used. So a sudden random though crossed my mind about what followed after the horsemen? Well, it was right there… Hell Follows After. And that fits what is going on in the book. Click!
Kari:A few image tweaks later, we had our final version:
C:Going in to this process, I believe Kari and I both had some preconceptions that needed to be dropped. Our initial intransigence to working with the artist’s own notions may have impeded our progress to begin with. Yet I believe our insistence on components faithful to the story was important. The process is made more difficult because the artists haven’t read the work and so have no clue what the pages contain other than a brief synopsis, if you provide one. So, sure, go into the process with ideas, but leave room to change your mind, even after you have made a decision. This is a fluid process, as it should be.
Kari:In fact the process has been so rewarding, I have been itching to take a stab at doing some cover design myself. Don’t worry – I’ll give it up if I’m no good at it. I am, after all, a wordsmith, not a designer. But I still can’t help thinking I can do better than a lot of indie book covers I’m seeing out there. To say you can’t judge a book by its cover may be a truism, but it doesn’t keep your readers from judging your book by its cover!
Please tell us which cover you like best.
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www.readmota.com
July 2, 2015
The True Best/Worst Inventions of Mankind
By C. Henry Martens
I’ve seen a lot of Best/Worst lists and can’t believe these items never seem to be on them. Usually the Worst Inventions are something silly (pet rocks) or too difficult (Rubik’s cubes), so they get a bad rap. What? We don’t have REAL complaints? On the other hand, the Best Inventions are all usually something that creates work by simply being available. I OBJECT! Here is an alternative view for you to disagree with. Please feel free to add your own choices and commentary below in the comment space provided.Worst First1 - Interest on Debt“Neither a borrower nor a lender be…,” Hamlet, written by Shakespeare. Both the Bible and the Koran vilify the lending of money. Interestingly, more members of Islam pay attention than do Christians. The Muslims partake in a joint venture rather than loan money, and if the venture fails, so does the investment. Overall, paying cash for only what you can afford is a better idea than paying interest. Money ahead in the long run.
2 - AdvertisingWho invented this time waste? They should be drawn and quartered! Do you realize how little advertising is really paid attention to? Sure, those that sell it are convincing, but will they prove that their efforts are worth the money they ask? NO! I have several times offered to give 100% of the proceeds to an adverting company during a campaign if they will do it on commission… but what is their answer? NO!!! NEVER!!! We don’t do things that way! But they sure have us all believing that it pays to advertise.3 - TimeSome cultures don’t even have the word. Can you imagine? They get up when they want to, they don’t know how old they are, they work until they are tired, and they don’t use appointment books/apps. Yet they exist. They laugh, eat well, plan ahead, and generally do what is necessary without a clock or a time-conscious boss looking over their shoulders.4 - ComputersOkay, I’m typing this on a computer keyboard. There are of course upsides to computers. But in this failed paperless society that was promised, we all spend too much time using our digits to manipulate keys, strain our eyes with intensely lit screens, and forget easily the “critical” information we would otherwise have really “learned.” I admit, they are getting easier to use, and I can no longer go to the library to find answers easier and faster, but retaining data and extrapolating how it works in the real world against all other information is more difficult. And one of the tremendous downsides is that extreme viewpoints gather more easily without any modulation from neighborhoods or elders or face to face friends. Then those extreme views are reinforced and encouraged by people unknown. 5 - ChairsYup, I’m sitting in a chair. I sit in chairs all the time (TIME again!). I should walk more, even with all the day hikes I still do. Sitting around is killing us. The human species was designed to move about, not recline in front of the boob tube… or lost in a technological device (Computers again!).
Best1 - MusicWhat leads to dancing? That bad ass, heavy beat, that thump thump thump that gets the feet moving and the heart pounding. Music infests your brain so vigorously that they have a name for it, Earworm. What can be better than a favorite song, along with almost any other enjoyment you care to indulge in? Music goes with everything and makes it even better. 2 - WineNot all wines. Personal tastes are involved. But the act of socializing over a glass of your preferred wine is one of the best pleasures on earth. Good friends, comradery, a fine meal, and a glass of wine.3 - KnotsSimple, elegant, and useful before the invention of Velcro or Bungee Cords, and still useful today for those who bother to learn them. They are soooo easy and useful, that they should be required learning in schools. I am constantly amazed at how little respect the simple ability to tie a knot is given in modern society. A good knot holds but is also easy to undo. I can hold loads or objects together, lift heavy weights, break or bend lengths of material, drag and hang items, and harness animals with a simple length of rope… and less than five good knots.4 - BoatsHow would the earth be known were it not for the ability to navigate the waters of the world? Probably the most versatile vehicle ever invented, boats can do it all. They transport huge volumes of goods more efficiently than any other conveyance, they maneuver up and down rivers, and when coupled with sails or a motor, they create speed and playful enjoyment. Oh, and they keep one from drowning if they are managed well. 5 - WritingThe universal tool for learning is the written word. We could all be struck with a disease that leaves us mute, and the world would go on and progress with little hesitation. Imagination and fact are both communicated equally well by all ethnicities and cultures, and language is defined by being placed on paper to be understood over the ages. It seems that as we melt into our devices and shun the society of those around us, we are increasingly involved in a renaissance of written communication. What will the future hold? I suspect writing will replace vocalization as the dominant exchange between human beings.
P.S. My wife says I need to add Fabric to the list of Best Inventions. As materials should be seen as art and design as much as infinite utility, I have to concede that she has a very good point. They are enjoyable as visual imagery, as well as texture, and are one of the most versatile tools ever created.
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I’ve seen a lot of Best/Worst lists and can’t believe these items never seem to be on them. Usually the Worst Inventions are something silly (pet rocks) or too difficult (Rubik’s cubes), so they get a bad rap. What? We don’t have REAL complaints? On the other hand, the Best Inventions are all usually something that creates work by simply being available. I OBJECT! Here is an alternative view for you to disagree with. Please feel free to add your own choices and commentary below in the comment space provided.Worst First1 - Interest on Debt“Neither a borrower nor a lender be…,” Hamlet, written by Shakespeare. Both the Bible and the Koran vilify the lending of money. Interestingly, more members of Islam pay attention than do Christians. The Muslims partake in a joint venture rather than loan money, and if the venture fails, so does the investment. Overall, paying cash for only what you can afford is a better idea than paying interest. Money ahead in the long run.
2 - AdvertisingWho invented this time waste? They should be drawn and quartered! Do you realize how little advertising is really paid attention to? Sure, those that sell it are convincing, but will they prove that their efforts are worth the money they ask? NO! I have several times offered to give 100% of the proceeds to an adverting company during a campaign if they will do it on commission… but what is their answer? NO!!! NEVER!!! We don’t do things that way! But they sure have us all believing that it pays to advertise.3 - TimeSome cultures don’t even have the word. Can you imagine? They get up when they want to, they don’t know how old they are, they work until they are tired, and they don’t use appointment books/apps. Yet they exist. They laugh, eat well, plan ahead, and generally do what is necessary without a clock or a time-conscious boss looking over their shoulders.4 - ComputersOkay, I’m typing this on a computer keyboard. There are of course upsides to computers. But in this failed paperless society that was promised, we all spend too much time using our digits to manipulate keys, strain our eyes with intensely lit screens, and forget easily the “critical” information we would otherwise have really “learned.” I admit, they are getting easier to use, and I can no longer go to the library to find answers easier and faster, but retaining data and extrapolating how it works in the real world against all other information is more difficult. And one of the tremendous downsides is that extreme viewpoints gather more easily without any modulation from neighborhoods or elders or face to face friends. Then those extreme views are reinforced and encouraged by people unknown. 5 - ChairsYup, I’m sitting in a chair. I sit in chairs all the time (TIME again!). I should walk more, even with all the day hikes I still do. Sitting around is killing us. The human species was designed to move about, not recline in front of the boob tube… or lost in a technological device (Computers again!).
Best1 - MusicWhat leads to dancing? That bad ass, heavy beat, that thump thump thump that gets the feet moving and the heart pounding. Music infests your brain so vigorously that they have a name for it, Earworm. What can be better than a favorite song, along with almost any other enjoyment you care to indulge in? Music goes with everything and makes it even better. 2 - WineNot all wines. Personal tastes are involved. But the act of socializing over a glass of your preferred wine is one of the best pleasures on earth. Good friends, comradery, a fine meal, and a glass of wine.3 - KnotsSimple, elegant, and useful before the invention of Velcro or Bungee Cords, and still useful today for those who bother to learn them. They are soooo easy and useful, that they should be required learning in schools. I am constantly amazed at how little respect the simple ability to tie a knot is given in modern society. A good knot holds but is also easy to undo. I can hold loads or objects together, lift heavy weights, break or bend lengths of material, drag and hang items, and harness animals with a simple length of rope… and less than five good knots.4 - BoatsHow would the earth be known were it not for the ability to navigate the waters of the world? Probably the most versatile vehicle ever invented, boats can do it all. They transport huge volumes of goods more efficiently than any other conveyance, they maneuver up and down rivers, and when coupled with sails or a motor, they create speed and playful enjoyment. Oh, and they keep one from drowning if they are managed well. 5 - WritingThe universal tool for learning is the written word. We could all be struck with a disease that leaves us mute, and the world would go on and progress with little hesitation. Imagination and fact are both communicated equally well by all ethnicities and cultures, and language is defined by being placed on paper to be understood over the ages. It seems that as we melt into our devices and shun the society of those around us, we are increasingly involved in a renaissance of written communication. What will the future hold? I suspect writing will replace vocalization as the dominant exchange between human beings.
P.S. My wife says I need to add Fabric to the list of Best Inventions. As materials should be seen as art and design as much as infinite utility, I have to concede that she has a very good point. They are enjoyable as visual imagery, as well as texture, and are one of the most versatile tools ever created.
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www.readmota.com
June 26, 2015
Death in the Apocalypse
by C. Henry Martens
What is a person’s life worth? What are you worth? Insurance companies can tell you, but they avoid placing dollar figures unless confronted by a massive law suit. It is seen as politically incorrect by those being valued. We aren’t speaking of value in this world, though, are we? No, we are speaking of the world in the aftermath of a cataclysmic event.
A world torn apart… with no nation to recognize rights, much less protect them. A place with no society, except what is expedient for small groups to form, and only then with the intent of enforcing their own survival. Maybe even a world with so few people that it could be difficult to find another human being.
In such a world, life has lost value. The single best source of worth is yourself and what you are prepared to do to survive.
It cracks me up when I hear people discuss intense desires. I have heard many bemoan the fact that they aren’t rich. That they aren’t famous. That they don’t have the means, the resources, the talent. If you ask them what they are willing to do to become… whatever… they have a ready and universal answer. “Anything.”
But the girl who is desirous of being the best singer in the world may be tone deaf and is listening to people inflate her ego with lies. She actively avoids confronting reality and won’t ask someone knowledgeable and kind enough to be brutally honest. Doesn’t happen? Watch the first episode of any season of American Idol.
The guy who has that insatiable desire for wealth spends his small income on lottery tickets and junk food while sitting in a dark room playing video games instead of socking away a small amount by living frugally until he has found something to invest in and practice sweat equity. People believe the wrong things… or they are unfocused, and then they fail to do what they claim, “anything.”
Talent, fame, and wealth take effort, and they usually don’t fall in a person’s lap. And even with hard effort, many will make mistakes along the way, mostly due to loss of focus. There are just no guarantees in life.
What makes you think that an apocalyptic world will be any different? If you have made it this far, more than likely it was by luck and the skin of your teeth. It will take effort, imagination, and versatility to survive in a world where you are looked at as competition for the next meal, or even AS the next meal. Most importantly, it will take effort. To that end, I submit to you that luck is nothing except well managed effort. Knowing when to duck and run is as important as knowing when to take advantage of circumstance. Knowing when and how to bluff with a good story to back up your play is invaluable.
I have a view of life… and death… that is not well accepted in this world confused by fairness and an overabundance of concern for saving everyone from the inevitable. I accept death as a coming event and even attractive in the right circumstances. I know that all living things die. I embrace that. Is there a reason to be frightened of death? Well, maybe… if religions are right. But short of a momentary lapse in focus or a sudden unexpected epiphany, I expect to meet death with a Viking war cry on my lips. It is the last great adventure.
So the way I see it, death is a personal experience to be embraced with excitement. If you are one of the lucky few surviving… and then not… an apocalypse, then even more so.
Might as well enjoy.
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www.readmota.com
What is a person’s life worth? What are you worth? Insurance companies can tell you, but they avoid placing dollar figures unless confronted by a massive law suit. It is seen as politically incorrect by those being valued. We aren’t speaking of value in this world, though, are we? No, we are speaking of the world in the aftermath of a cataclysmic event.
A world torn apart… with no nation to recognize rights, much less protect them. A place with no society, except what is expedient for small groups to form, and only then with the intent of enforcing their own survival. Maybe even a world with so few people that it could be difficult to find another human being.
In such a world, life has lost value. The single best source of worth is yourself and what you are prepared to do to survive.
It cracks me up when I hear people discuss intense desires. I have heard many bemoan the fact that they aren’t rich. That they aren’t famous. That they don’t have the means, the resources, the talent. If you ask them what they are willing to do to become… whatever… they have a ready and universal answer. “Anything.”
But the girl who is desirous of being the best singer in the world may be tone deaf and is listening to people inflate her ego with lies. She actively avoids confronting reality and won’t ask someone knowledgeable and kind enough to be brutally honest. Doesn’t happen? Watch the first episode of any season of American Idol.
The guy who has that insatiable desire for wealth spends his small income on lottery tickets and junk food while sitting in a dark room playing video games instead of socking away a small amount by living frugally until he has found something to invest in and practice sweat equity. People believe the wrong things… or they are unfocused, and then they fail to do what they claim, “anything.”
Talent, fame, and wealth take effort, and they usually don’t fall in a person’s lap. And even with hard effort, many will make mistakes along the way, mostly due to loss of focus. There are just no guarantees in life.
What makes you think that an apocalyptic world will be any different? If you have made it this far, more than likely it was by luck and the skin of your teeth. It will take effort, imagination, and versatility to survive in a world where you are looked at as competition for the next meal, or even AS the next meal. Most importantly, it will take effort. To that end, I submit to you that luck is nothing except well managed effort. Knowing when to duck and run is as important as knowing when to take advantage of circumstance. Knowing when and how to bluff with a good story to back up your play is invaluable.
I have a view of life… and death… that is not well accepted in this world confused by fairness and an overabundance of concern for saving everyone from the inevitable. I accept death as a coming event and even attractive in the right circumstances. I know that all living things die. I embrace that. Is there a reason to be frightened of death? Well, maybe… if religions are right. But short of a momentary lapse in focus or a sudden unexpected epiphany, I expect to meet death with a Viking war cry on my lips. It is the last great adventure.
So the way I see it, death is a personal experience to be embraced with excitement. If you are one of the lucky few surviving… and then not… an apocalypse, then even more so.
Might as well enjoy.
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www.readmota.com
June 19, 2015
Book Review: The Dreamtime Book
By C. Henry Martens
Review: The Dreamtime BookText by Charles P. MountfordArtwork by Ainslie Roberts
I love chance finds. The discovery of a great book, especially, feeds my soul like nothing else. This book was being given away by my local library, and I snatched it up because of the wonderful artwork.
First published in 1973, the eighty-two stories within are myths and legends of a people with an amazing facility for oral tradition. The Australian Aborigines describe the origins of the earth and the creatures that dwell upon it, but more importantly they deal in the lessons to be learned in living. We can all benefit by the ideas, the mystery, the imagination, contained within these pages.
The author, more translator I suspect, is to be congratulated in how little he brought to the text of modern pride or interpretation. By keeping the original intent, the stories flow in a foreign frame of reference to fill the mind with ancient, primitive, yet incredibly illuminating ideas. These tales are the real deal, published as though being told around a small fire under an overhanging rock and under an open starry sky. With very little effort, you can almost feel the cool of the night-time air and the soft voices of aged and venerable elders as they weave the world into being.
Original paintings and sketches are by Ainslie Roberts, one of the most imaginative and talented artists I have ever had the privilege of experiencing. Where the stories illustrated are alien in their nature, to become comforting as perused over the course of the book, the canvases tell stories as well. They add to the experience with exotic strangeness and otherworldly perception that brings you into the world created.
This is a book for people who enjoy myth and legend and have enough imagination to appreciate an ancient culture of interesting values and eye-opening wisdom.
No longer in print, you can still find used copies.
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www.readmota.com
Review: The Dreamtime BookText by Charles P. MountfordArtwork by Ainslie Roberts
I love chance finds. The discovery of a great book, especially, feeds my soul like nothing else. This book was being given away by my local library, and I snatched it up because of the wonderful artwork.
First published in 1973, the eighty-two stories within are myths and legends of a people with an amazing facility for oral tradition. The Australian Aborigines describe the origins of the earth and the creatures that dwell upon it, but more importantly they deal in the lessons to be learned in living. We can all benefit by the ideas, the mystery, the imagination, contained within these pages.
The author, more translator I suspect, is to be congratulated in how little he brought to the text of modern pride or interpretation. By keeping the original intent, the stories flow in a foreign frame of reference to fill the mind with ancient, primitive, yet incredibly illuminating ideas. These tales are the real deal, published as though being told around a small fire under an overhanging rock and under an open starry sky. With very little effort, you can almost feel the cool of the night-time air and the soft voices of aged and venerable elders as they weave the world into being.
Original paintings and sketches are by Ainslie Roberts, one of the most imaginative and talented artists I have ever had the privilege of experiencing. Where the stories illustrated are alien in their nature, to become comforting as perused over the course of the book, the canvases tell stories as well. They add to the experience with exotic strangeness and otherworldly perception that brings you into the world created.
This is a book for people who enjoy myth and legend and have enough imagination to appreciate an ancient culture of interesting values and eye-opening wisdom.
No longer in print, you can still find used copies.
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www.readmota.com
June 12, 2015
Short Story: The Bigger the Worm
by C.Henry Martens
A one-hundred-sixty-foot earthworm is not your daddy’s nightcrawler, and the very idea of threading it onto a fish hook would make for a whopper of a tale around the campfire. As worm wranglers, Igor Denesovich and Rudy MacGregor had never tried, but in trading good-natured tall tales over excellent vodka or well-mellowed whiskey, they had both speculated on how it could be done. The problem was that there was no need, so in the end they sulked over the lack of imagination that the geneticists had. Without the proper fish, the hook would have to wait.
Mars was shaping up. The name was in contention for the repositioned planet. New Earth was in play, but almost everyone except government stooges objected. The problem was that there were too many names in the suggestion box, so the votes were spread out. Smart money said the new world would be named New Earth anyway. What government ever listened to citizens?
So the work progressed, and the worms ate rock and churned soil at a furious pace to bring enough fertility to what had been barren and sterile forever. At first the worms had died almost as fast as they were planted. The little three-footers hadn’t the staying power of the big boys, and the scientists had worked diligently to increase the size so they were tougher. Gradually the worms began to last longer, and as they died they fed the larger ones that followed. All organic matter returned to the worm beds, and the worm beds grew.
There at the beginning, Igor remembered how the small worms had been nurtured in precious organic soils from earth until they reached mature size. As soon as three feet of voracious, slime covered muscle was sifted from the soil, the big Russian manhandled it into a cardboard tube to be chilled into torpor and shipped to whatever bed it would die in. When Rudy arrived, Igor already had the scar on his chest where an especially frisky critter had latched on and made as if to burrow in. Igor had caught hell over killing it, which said something about the value assigned the worms over their handlers. As a newby, Rudy marveled appropriately when shown the almost three inch wide scar that sunk in as far as it was wide. A good lesson to learn, he did his best to avoid contact with either end of one of the animals. Some were not so lucky, and there were deaths. But on the bright side, after a mutiny as the worms got larger and more dangerous, the pay tripled.
Technology caught up finally, and mechanical means to tube the worms was developed. The pay stayed high, because the equipment was often torn to shreds by ever larger beasts, and men were still endangered.
When the capability to move a large celestial body became feasible, it was only intended to be used for asteroids and objects from the Kuiper Belt. As the technology advanced rapidly, larger objects were more efficient to put effort into, and one day a bright cosmologist advanced the idea that a strategic collision might take Mars out of orbit and reseed it with liquid water at the same time, moving it into an orbit almost opposite the sun from earth. The graviton accelerator pulled a large chunk of ice from deep blackness, well beyond the ex-planet Pluto, and with little manipulation and huge efforts in calculation plunged the unnamed frozen chunk through the solar system and into the God of War’s namesake. Once on the move, detached from what had been its home, Mars took further manipulation by the massive energy device to settle into a stationary orbit once again. With the proper filters, astronomers could see past Sol and track the new planet as it followed the Earth about the sun. Now, after years spent allowing the conflagration to cool and the dust to settle, the worms were preparing the soil.
After a particularly unnerving day, warming and loosing a big bastard into the soil, Rudy returned back to base and a chilled bottle of Igor’s best. His friend’s day was equally rough, loading the day’s mature specimens into giant, reinforced tubes, two of which had bulged dangerously under the strain.
By the time the bottle was half empty, the saloon was getting loud. Two lab techs had joined them, ladies that liked rough men and strong drink, and Igor was glad he had another bottle cooling in his stash locker behind the bar. The dusky redhead leaned in and lightly caressed his ear with her tongue.
“I heard something today, Iggy… something you will be interested in.” Her accent spoke of her Columbian heritage.
Overhearing, Rudy slurred the question that Igor was just starting to form.
“Does it have to do with the Big Puddle?” He grinned. He knew these techs worked in the Ichthy lab. They always smelled of fish.
The smaller of two oceans that had formed was already seeded with small fry, nothing bigger than blue whales. They were all mutationally aberrant and were only being used to spread organic matter and bacteria so later aquatics could be planted. Sooner or later they would have to be controlled, as in terminated, and most thought some kind of poison would be used.
The other woman, a lanky brunette with no eyebrows and a line of intentional skin tags hanging from one cheek, giggled and nudged her friend as they anticipated the reaction their news would have. She spoke.
“Yes, indeedy do, the Big Puddle… indeedy do.” She winked, and neither man knew if it was intentional or merely a tic. She giggled again, and it spread into a belly laugh as both women fed off each other’s mirth.
The redhead finally calmed enough to extort, “Get one ready, Iggy… one of your worms will have something to do besides eat dirt.” She smiled. “The brass decided anything that’ll kill the mutants will be too toxic for earth species, and they don’t want to harm the stuff already planted. They’re worried about the coral and stuff.”
“Yeah, and what they want is a big fish eater.” The brunette leaned in conspiratorially. “Something that can kill the ones they don’t want and digest them, then die off from engineered genetic exhaustion. They’ve had one in the locker down on Earth, bein’ stored after it wuz developed. It’s big, and it’s hungry, and it’ll kill anything it can see in the Puddle… and eat it.”
Igor and Rudy locked eyes and grinned, turning their thoughts to bait.
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A one-hundred-sixty-foot earthworm is not your daddy’s nightcrawler, and the very idea of threading it onto a fish hook would make for a whopper of a tale around the campfire. As worm wranglers, Igor Denesovich and Rudy MacGregor had never tried, but in trading good-natured tall tales over excellent vodka or well-mellowed whiskey, they had both speculated on how it could be done. The problem was that there was no need, so in the end they sulked over the lack of imagination that the geneticists had. Without the proper fish, the hook would have to wait.
Mars was shaping up. The name was in contention for the repositioned planet. New Earth was in play, but almost everyone except government stooges objected. The problem was that there were too many names in the suggestion box, so the votes were spread out. Smart money said the new world would be named New Earth anyway. What government ever listened to citizens?
So the work progressed, and the worms ate rock and churned soil at a furious pace to bring enough fertility to what had been barren and sterile forever. At first the worms had died almost as fast as they were planted. The little three-footers hadn’t the staying power of the big boys, and the scientists had worked diligently to increase the size so they were tougher. Gradually the worms began to last longer, and as they died they fed the larger ones that followed. All organic matter returned to the worm beds, and the worm beds grew.
There at the beginning, Igor remembered how the small worms had been nurtured in precious organic soils from earth until they reached mature size. As soon as three feet of voracious, slime covered muscle was sifted from the soil, the big Russian manhandled it into a cardboard tube to be chilled into torpor and shipped to whatever bed it would die in. When Rudy arrived, Igor already had the scar on his chest where an especially frisky critter had latched on and made as if to burrow in. Igor had caught hell over killing it, which said something about the value assigned the worms over their handlers. As a newby, Rudy marveled appropriately when shown the almost three inch wide scar that sunk in as far as it was wide. A good lesson to learn, he did his best to avoid contact with either end of one of the animals. Some were not so lucky, and there were deaths. But on the bright side, after a mutiny as the worms got larger and more dangerous, the pay tripled.
Technology caught up finally, and mechanical means to tube the worms was developed. The pay stayed high, because the equipment was often torn to shreds by ever larger beasts, and men were still endangered.
When the capability to move a large celestial body became feasible, it was only intended to be used for asteroids and objects from the Kuiper Belt. As the technology advanced rapidly, larger objects were more efficient to put effort into, and one day a bright cosmologist advanced the idea that a strategic collision might take Mars out of orbit and reseed it with liquid water at the same time, moving it into an orbit almost opposite the sun from earth. The graviton accelerator pulled a large chunk of ice from deep blackness, well beyond the ex-planet Pluto, and with little manipulation and huge efforts in calculation plunged the unnamed frozen chunk through the solar system and into the God of War’s namesake. Once on the move, detached from what had been its home, Mars took further manipulation by the massive energy device to settle into a stationary orbit once again. With the proper filters, astronomers could see past Sol and track the new planet as it followed the Earth about the sun. Now, after years spent allowing the conflagration to cool and the dust to settle, the worms were preparing the soil.
After a particularly unnerving day, warming and loosing a big bastard into the soil, Rudy returned back to base and a chilled bottle of Igor’s best. His friend’s day was equally rough, loading the day’s mature specimens into giant, reinforced tubes, two of which had bulged dangerously under the strain.
By the time the bottle was half empty, the saloon was getting loud. Two lab techs had joined them, ladies that liked rough men and strong drink, and Igor was glad he had another bottle cooling in his stash locker behind the bar. The dusky redhead leaned in and lightly caressed his ear with her tongue.
“I heard something today, Iggy… something you will be interested in.” Her accent spoke of her Columbian heritage.
Overhearing, Rudy slurred the question that Igor was just starting to form.
“Does it have to do with the Big Puddle?” He grinned. He knew these techs worked in the Ichthy lab. They always smelled of fish.
The smaller of two oceans that had formed was already seeded with small fry, nothing bigger than blue whales. They were all mutationally aberrant and were only being used to spread organic matter and bacteria so later aquatics could be planted. Sooner or later they would have to be controlled, as in terminated, and most thought some kind of poison would be used.
The other woman, a lanky brunette with no eyebrows and a line of intentional skin tags hanging from one cheek, giggled and nudged her friend as they anticipated the reaction their news would have. She spoke.
“Yes, indeedy do, the Big Puddle… indeedy do.” She winked, and neither man knew if it was intentional or merely a tic. She giggled again, and it spread into a belly laugh as both women fed off each other’s mirth.
The redhead finally calmed enough to extort, “Get one ready, Iggy… one of your worms will have something to do besides eat dirt.” She smiled. “The brass decided anything that’ll kill the mutants will be too toxic for earth species, and they don’t want to harm the stuff already planted. They’re worried about the coral and stuff.”
“Yeah, and what they want is a big fish eater.” The brunette leaned in conspiratorially. “Something that can kill the ones they don’t want and digest them, then die off from engineered genetic exhaustion. They’ve had one in the locker down on Earth, bein’ stored after it wuz developed. It’s big, and it’s hungry, and it’ll kill anything it can see in the Puddle… and eat it.”
Igor and Rudy locked eyes and grinned, turning their thoughts to bait.
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www.readmota.com
June 5, 2015
Apocalypse Survival 101: Assess the Situation
by C. Henry Martens
Apocalypse Survival 101Mental attitudeAssess the situationDefine the level of riskQuestions that need to be askedLocation, location, locationSkill setTimingThe realities in your support systemInventory of resourcesOdds versus priority
Apocalypse Survival 101: Assess the Situation
How bad is it? Quick, a horde of Zombies is crashing through the door! Or… has the drought been getting progressively worse and the first instances of water scarcity are beginning to produce bodies? Is there really a difference? What if you don’t see it coming? It could be happening right now, a slow, methodical creep that sneaks up and… catches you sleeping. On the other hand…
So what can we do to anticipate the higher probabilities and/or the rate at which something will happen?
First, let’s get real. Zombies are not one of the high priority scenarios. Since our governments were so full of themselves, steeped in their own success and pride, and sent a broadcasting probe into outer space with a blueprint of where we are and what kinds of capabilities we have, aliens are higher on the list than zombies. And we don’t even know if there are any aliens.
That is not to say all fictional critters are impossible. Certainly the ever changing organic life on earth is problematic. Plenty of sci-fi stories are written around bacteria, disease, plague, and general naturally occurring organic changes that humans may have trouble adapting to. I’m going to put this in the high probability category. Time and experience has proven that as populations get larger, more concentrated, lethal diseases are more likely. Be aware folks.
Is there an asteroid out there with the Earth’s name on it? Most assuredly. It is not a question of if but of when. At the same time the probability of a planet killer on any given day, or century for that matter, is low. But it is out there. This is something we hire governments to be concerned with. They aren’t.
Once the specific apocalypse is identified, that is when the real work begins. As we all know, a plan is better than being caught with your pants down. A stock of provisions is better than counting on foraging. A society of friends you can count on is better than expecting charity from strangers. The last can of Spam is better than a ton of gold.
Be hard on yourself. Know your strengths… but more important know your weaknesses. If you intend to fight to the end, learn to assess yourself and those you plan on being with, and be honest.
Can you use a weapon on another human being? If not, you better be prepared to hide. If not, you better have friends that you can count on to do the dirty work. Understand where that lack of ability, that lack of resolve, places you in the pecking order. Within the group, if you are in one, understand your value. If you can’t bring something necessary to the group, understand that and have a back-up plan. Know your exit strategy, what you will take with you, and have some idea where you will try to go.
Do you play poker? Can you read a face? If you can, do you have the guts to act on what you see? Is there a universal sign before someone pulls a trigger? Can you assess the situation? Do you know what eyes are on your gear? What hands covet your food? What values someone has for another person’s life? Do you treat those you know as trustworthy even though they have never proven themselves in a situation? Do you suspect all strangers? Read a good book on body language, and practice.
Be adaptable. Above all other things, be adaptable. No matter what you think will happen, it will be different. Be prepared.
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www.readmota.com
Apocalypse Survival 101Mental attitudeAssess the situationDefine the level of riskQuestions that need to be askedLocation, location, locationSkill setTimingThe realities in your support systemInventory of resourcesOdds versus priority
Apocalypse Survival 101: Assess the Situation
How bad is it? Quick, a horde of Zombies is crashing through the door! Or… has the drought been getting progressively worse and the first instances of water scarcity are beginning to produce bodies? Is there really a difference? What if you don’t see it coming? It could be happening right now, a slow, methodical creep that sneaks up and… catches you sleeping. On the other hand…
So what can we do to anticipate the higher probabilities and/or the rate at which something will happen?
First, let’s get real. Zombies are not one of the high priority scenarios. Since our governments were so full of themselves, steeped in their own success and pride, and sent a broadcasting probe into outer space with a blueprint of where we are and what kinds of capabilities we have, aliens are higher on the list than zombies. And we don’t even know if there are any aliens.
That is not to say all fictional critters are impossible. Certainly the ever changing organic life on earth is problematic. Plenty of sci-fi stories are written around bacteria, disease, plague, and general naturally occurring organic changes that humans may have trouble adapting to. I’m going to put this in the high probability category. Time and experience has proven that as populations get larger, more concentrated, lethal diseases are more likely. Be aware folks.
Is there an asteroid out there with the Earth’s name on it? Most assuredly. It is not a question of if but of when. At the same time the probability of a planet killer on any given day, or century for that matter, is low. But it is out there. This is something we hire governments to be concerned with. They aren’t.
Once the specific apocalypse is identified, that is when the real work begins. As we all know, a plan is better than being caught with your pants down. A stock of provisions is better than counting on foraging. A society of friends you can count on is better than expecting charity from strangers. The last can of Spam is better than a ton of gold.
Be hard on yourself. Know your strengths… but more important know your weaknesses. If you intend to fight to the end, learn to assess yourself and those you plan on being with, and be honest.
Can you use a weapon on another human being? If not, you better be prepared to hide. If not, you better have friends that you can count on to do the dirty work. Understand where that lack of ability, that lack of resolve, places you in the pecking order. Within the group, if you are in one, understand your value. If you can’t bring something necessary to the group, understand that and have a back-up plan. Know your exit strategy, what you will take with you, and have some idea where you will try to go.
Do you play poker? Can you read a face? If you can, do you have the guts to act on what you see? Is there a universal sign before someone pulls a trigger? Can you assess the situation? Do you know what eyes are on your gear? What hands covet your food? What values someone has for another person’s life? Do you treat those you know as trustworthy even though they have never proven themselves in a situation? Do you suspect all strangers? Read a good book on body language, and practice.
Be adaptable. Above all other things, be adaptable. No matter what you think will happen, it will be different. Be prepared.
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www.readmota.com
