Perspective, pt 3

The saloon doors swung open and Tanner swept through, holding the princess close to him. "Stay near," he muttered to her, smiling, "the worst scum in the world hang out here, and I don't want you to get hurt."

She just walked beside him, she seemed oblivious to the chaos and noise that engulfed them. He put her in a dimly lit booth in the back and asked the gap-toothed and battle scarred waitress for whiskey. She sauntered off, wiggling her veined, blue cheese colord hips at the patrons she passed. Tanner grimaced and prayed for strong liquor.

After two shots he looked at his watch. His contact was supposed to have met him by now. Tanner looked around the bar nervously. Something was up.

Upon completing that thought the saloon doors slammed against the inner wall as a man went sailing through them. A group of heavily armed men in royal red ponchos walked in after him. Their leader, idenified by a gold braid on his shoulder quickly scanned the room and pointed at Tanner.

"Oh bugger," Tanner muttered to himself as the group plowed through the bar to him.

"I am Captain Ace Irlvin of the Red Knights. By order of the Family of Vesta, you will release the princess to me at once and submit yourself to the Scourge and Hammer of Justice," The lead man ordered.

"You'll never take me alive!" Tanner shouted as he pulled his pistol. The last word croaked out his throat as his lungs filled with blood. The patrons of the bar didn't seem to even notice.

Captain Ace reholstered his pistol and motioned for a man to grab the princess.

"I didn't intend to."

Perspective, pt 2

This was a long time ago:

"Do you swear to serve and protect the family of Vesta, even at the cost of your own life?" The kings question echoed through the hall.

I stared into his eyes as he asked me this question. They were a deep blue, serene as the ocean. He wept nobility. I could not refuse him.

"I do swear," I said

"Then rise, my Thobas, rise as Sir Novault, son of Rek."

And I rose, because that is what he asked of me.

But that was a long time ago.

Buzzards circled overhead as Thobas' horse plodded across the orange sand. Thobas walked alongside it as the princess rode. She now wore a faded red poncho that he had cut down to size to fit over her. It looked more like a drapery than a dress, and Thobas could remember a time when she would have refused to wear such a rag. She would barely speak to him now, much less complain.

He looked up at her. The princess' face was dirty, and she didn't seem to focus on anything in particular. She just sat.

Union was ahead of them, nestled among the dunes. Thobas could only see the smoke and steam that rose from the city as it busied itself in preparation for the arrival of the Great Train.

A shot rang out. And Thobas fell to the ground. The noise and the motion startled the horse briefly, but it did not bolt.

Tanner, self-proclaimed Master Bounty Hunter hid on the ridge of a dune, watching the man bleed into the orange sand. Another pair of men ran forward to grab the girl from the horse, but he shot them down quickly.

"Before they even knew what hit them." He muttered to himself. He waited another minute, scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. When he was satisfied that no one else was around he walked down to the girl and began leading the horse to Union.

Behind him he could see a faint cloud of dust, but it was too distant to catch him before he got to the security offered by the laws and guards of Union.

"In a day, Princess, we'll be on our way to the other side of the desert. And you're gonna make me a lot of money..."

Perspective, pt. 1.

There was no wind. Orange sand extended in every direction. The sky was dark and oppressive, as though a great seal had closed up the world.

Nothing moved on the desert. Then, on the horizon, there was a puff of dust. In the middle of the puff there was a single black dot. The cloud grew steadily larger as the dot came closer. After a while the roar of the dot's engine became apparent, and the dot grew to become a sand buggy.

"It's a six-seater with plating and two gun turrets," Thobas muttered to himself as he watched the buggy through his scope. "Not much considering what is inside."

Eventually the buggy came to a stop and the occupants climbed out. Five men, one small girl. Several of the men stretched as though they had been travelling for some time. One looked like he was saying something to the girl.

Chow-chow-chow-chow-chow. Blood poured into the sand and turned into a ochre mud. He could hear a single scream. Thobas reloaded his rifle.

As he walked over to the girl he pulled back his orange hood so she could see his face, but she clearly didn't remember him. She shrank away from him as he approached. She began to climb back into the buggy, but Thobas grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her down. She struggled, but he held her tight.

"Princess," He said, "I've come for you."

The sound of his voice calmed her, and he put her down onto the ground, avoiding setting her in a pool of blood. He looked around. The whole scene stank of iron, death, and the dirt. The sand always stank when it got wet, and it was especially bad considering what was mixed in it.

He produced a small orange fruit from his bag. "Have you eaten?" He asked her.

She shook her head.

He peeled the rind off with a knife and held the fruit out to the girl. "Eat this, it tastes like dirt, but it will keep you alive."

She wrinkled her nose at the fruit, but her hunger gave in and she began to eat ravenously. The juice ran down her face and mingled with the blood that stained her dress.

Thobas stared out across the desert, wondering if he would be able to get the Princess to the rendezvous point in time. He only had three days before the Great Train would stop in Union, and if he wasn't there by then the two of them would be stuck on this side of the desert for another three years.

This side of the desert was not where he wanted to be.

SO FAT

He's so pretty...

I'm more pretty than he is.

Ambient Cultural Knowledge

You know the Bible 72%!

Wow! You are truly a student of the Bible! Some of the questions were difficult, but they didn't slow you down! You know the books, the characters, the events . . . Very impressive!

Ultimate Bible Quiz
Create MySpace Quizzes

BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Gaggeth me unto a spoon.

Maryland My Maryland

1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question.

NO CHEATING...

I think I will. Also, I had to cheat a little because my shuffler got stuck in my Nizlopi album for some reason so I skipped ahead a little so it wouldn't end up being stupid. Also I skipped one or two that were things like, "Clint Eastwood, an American Filmmaker, Suite Part 1" or "Mild und leise (Leibostod - Tristan und Isolde)" where it didn't make any damn sense at all.

A lot of mine turned out good.

What does next year have in store for me?
Make You Feel Better – Red Hot Chili Peppers

What does your love life look like?
The Sands of Iwo Jima – Drive-By Truckers

What do I say when life gets hard?
Go-Go Gadget Gospel – Gnarls Barkley

What do I think when I get up in the morning?
All in the Groove – Blues Traveler

What song will I dance to at my wedding?
Fuck Her Gently – Tenacious D

What do you want as a career?
Sexy – Black Eyed Peas

Your favorite saying?
Ode to Joy – Some philharmonic

Favorite place?
Thin Line Between Love and Hate – Iron Maiden

What do you think of your parents?
Hooked on a Feeling – Blue Swede

Where would you go on a first date?
Welcome to my Nightmare – Alice Cooper

Drug of choice?
T.N.T. – AC/DC

Describe yourself:
JCB - Nizlopi

What is the thing I like doing most?
Girls – Nizlopi

The song that best describes the president?
Stone Cutter’s Theme – The Simpsons

What is my state of mind like at the moment?
Siegfried’s Funeral March – Vienna Philharmonic

How will I die?
Gummy Bears Theme – Disney

The song you'll put as the subject?
Maryland My Maryland – Bobby Horton

Minority Hymnal

Another thing tagged onto my site because JMJ did it first.

At least check out the "Sermon" post. It gets pretty goofy, um... yo.

Also check out "World's Greatest Cowboy" bits here. They are made even more bizarre.

Mortis

Saddam Hussein Abd al-Majid al-Tikriti,

1937-2006
One of the United States' greatest allies in the Middle East.

He will be missed.

Celebrate the Hatching of the Paleo-Christ!

Imagine yourself sitting in the most comfortable seat in your house. You are watching your favorite television show, drinking the best mug of hot chocolate you can remember. You are wearing what could possibly be the softest pair of flannel lined pants in existence. Suffice it to say you are comfortable. At the time, you are having the best Saura-Christmas ever.

Now imagine that you are me.

Now, I bet you are pretty bummed. I'm use to being me though, also I'm not wearing undershorts and these are extraordinarily soft pants, so I'm still having a pretty good Dinomas.

I hope you are too.

Love you all. Except for those of you I don't.

Sigh...

Is it just me, or does this whole "the new blog" thing just suck?

Real Poetry (Why Not?)

Fate they say, is like the wind,
Before which we must stand.
And when it blows, it’s nice to know,
That you can hold her hand.

Because it’s a short, hard life that we must live,
And without someone special to give,
Your self, your heart, your love,
Life’s a damn hard thing to rise above.

So cherish what you have found,
And celebrate it on every single day.
Because too soon the wind will blow,
And we’ll all be swept away.

-

It’s a single cephalopodan eye,
Glistening, yet dull, devoid of life,
Its thoughtless gaze burns and tears through flesh.
It’s the color purple,
The color of beaten skin now bruised,
And of royalty, the oppressors.
It’s the stench of rotting corpses,
Of a meaningless and reasonless end.
Seen fair by the blind.
Proclaimed just by the mute.
With a final plea heard only by the deaf.
It’s a shrill cacophony,
The flautist unseen,
That grinds like the rough, wet tongue of the wolf as it devours the innocent lamb,
Its guardian, its savior, its shepherd unseen.

The jester’s verdict now law.

-

There once was a man from Nantucket,
And there was a hole in his bucket.
Although he did try,
The hole stayed awry,
So he decided to fuck it.

Couldn't help myself.

All For Naught

There once was a bat,
The night flying rat,
Nobody liked him it seems.

Though he had a heart,
He lived in the dark,
Without love or the light that it brings.

He then saw a girl,
His wings did unfurl,
He flew to pluck her heartstrings.

But away she did run,
So out came his gun,
And he ended his little bat dreams.

Poetry Session

After having conjured up the poem for Naught during my American Literature survey, I held onto my momentum and wrote some more crap too.

Haiku

Winter sorrows come,
Frozen flowers felled by frost,
Hey, I just farted.

(It alliterates)

Women in the crowd,
Do their titties see my stare?
I await the slap.

Some girls must love me,
But their lying lips say, "No!"
Restraining Order.

Beer makes the girls say,
"Patrick looks handsome tonight."
I am a bad man.

Free Form Poetry

Sometimes I feel like a nut,
Sometimes I don't,
Almond Joy's got nuts,
Mound's don't.
Sometimes I question the wisdom of writing poetry while watching TV.
Usually I don't.

Poetry is a sham,
Just another stupid scam,
For the men who want some pussy,
They just act sensitive and wussy.
So young women I emplore thee!
Please, oh please do not ignore me!
Find a doctor, lawyer, or a banker boy.
You can treat them like a toy,
They will buy you happiness,
And when you are bored there's always the pool boy's penis.

I'm a lot more fun when I've had coffee.

Sermon

Loyalty is the first virtue.

To be loyal is to put another first for no other reason than the fact that they exist, without the expectation of personal gain. It is constant and unrestrained charity that ends only in death. It is the willingness the sacrifice the self for the salvation of another. Loyalty is greater than love.

Loyalty is the first virtue, which you owe to another.

Justice is the second virtue.

To be just is to be infinitely fair in all one’s decisions. It is the preservation of balance in the pursuit of truth. If one is just then he will never do what he knows in his heart to be wrong and will be unassailable by those who would lead him to sin. Justice is greater than temperance.

Loyalty is the first virtue, which you owe to another.
Justice is the second virtue, which you owe to the world.

Determination is the third virtue.

To be determined is pit oneself against any opposition. It is to refute anything that denies the self and it is the denial of the possible death of the self. If one is determined then defeat is impossible, only the absence of victory. Determination is greater than courage.

Loyalty is the first virtue, which you owe to another.
Justice is the second virtue, which you owe to the world.
Determination is the third virtue, which you owe to yourself.

Perfection is the fourth virtue.

To be perfect is to not err in any facility. It is to always do the right thing. It is to succeed whenever possible, and to only fail when the world conspires to prevent your victory. Everyone is with fault, but if one aspires to be perfect then they set the most worthy goal of all. Perfection is greater than excellence.

Loyalty is the first virtue, which you owe to another.
Justice is the second virtue, which you owe to the world.
Determination is the third virtue, which you owe to yourself.
Perfection is the fourth virtue, which you cannot be.

Self-awareness is the fifth virtue.

To be self-aware is to understand that one exists. It is to understand the price of one’s actions, and the worth of one’s acts. If one is self-aware then one knows their faults and their strengths, and will be able to act appropriately. Self-awareness is the source from which all other virtues come.

Loyalty is the first virtue, which you owe to another.
Justice is the second virtue, which you owe to the world.
Determination is the third virtue, which you owe to yourself.
Perfection is the fourth virtue, which you cannot be.
Self-awareness is the fifth virtue, which you must be.

Surrounding and opposing the five virtues are twenty three vices.

The first order of vices is those which show the weakness of spirit.

Hopelessness, for it is the admission of defeat before one tries.
Failure, for one has not failed if he has done everything they could to succeed.
Tolerance, for one who accepts a fault allows it to grow.
Passivity, for one who does not take a stand he cannot succeed.
Mercy, for one will always be in conflict as long as one’s enemies exist.
Dishonesty, for one who is unwilling to reveal the truth is a coward.
Hate, for hating something denies it the ability to change for the better.

The second order of vices is those which show failure to serve diligence.

Accident, for everything one does should be with intent.
Irrationality, for everything one does should be considered.
Ignorance, for ignorance only serves to facilitate failure.
Impatience, for it prevents one from considering all options.
Recklessness, for it leads to one disregarding the proper path.
Sloth, for if one does not act when they know what is right they deserve to fail.
Venality, for anyone with a price will fail to do what is right.

The third order of vices is those which show that one loves himself most.

Vanity, for the excessive love of one’s appearance makes the world ugly.
Lust, for the excessive love of carnality only leads only to causing others pain.
Envy, for the hate of that which is greater than oneself leads only to destruction.
Greed, for the love of objects leads only causes others loss.
Wrath, for the love of vengeance leads one to forget their duty.
Hypocrisy, for it only reveals love for the self and hate for all others.
Betrayal, for those who deserve one’s love most are those who trust you.

The fourth order of vices is those which cause all other vices.

Pride, for when everyone is beneath you they have no value.
Dogmatism, for no absolute captures the complexity of life.

To live with all virtues and without any vices is the path to Raptor Jesus' love, and that is the truth.

Why Do You Come To This Place?

I was bored, so I looked around on my sitemeter for odd google searches my blog showed up as. They are all from the U.S. except where marked.

brad coulombe -Canada
Big Pizza Porno -Netherlands
barrett jesus
"They don't like themselves"
Invincible Wheel spell
"Where to be happy?"
"axe of gork"
"i hate new yorkers"
is the nickelodeon show unfabulous quitting
"love validates all"

Шрапнель

K-235 was lost during classified exploration of the Antarctic coastline. A detachment was sent from the main fleet to attempt to find the wayward vessel or its wreckage, but found neither. What they didn’t know was that they couldn’t find the submarine because K-235 was no longer on the coastline of the Antarctic, or anywhere else that could be found on a chart or map for that matter. What was generally believed, as the crew was finding out to be true, was that the vessel would never return home.

-

The hidden whirlpool that had unexpectedly dropped the K-235 into an inland sea and careening to the shore thundered behind Starshina First Class Pyotr Vadimovich as he disembarked from the stricken vessel. The dark black sand of the shore whuffed underneath his boot. He tightened his jacket against the cold wind that blew from the hole the submarine had fallen through. Men solemnly moved among the boxes that were strewn along the ebony beach, taking stock of everything that had been salvaged from the vessel.

Meanwhile Commissar Ivanovich gave a speech from the K-235’s prow saluting the bravery and courage of the crew who have managed to do what Hitler could not. Russia would be the first country to lay claim to Agartha, the mythical land inside of Earth, and use its resources to further the cause of Communism on conventional top-side Earth. His passionate cries echoed across the barren black sand.

Pyotr thought that it didn’t matter anymore, because no one would know that they had done anything more spectacular than dying. He looked up and down the empty shore. There was nothing spectacular about this place, no magic. It looked just like anywhere else. Except the sun, Pyotr realized, it was rotating slowly and only half of it seemed to be on fire. It looked like it was permanently eclipsing. Abram, Pyotr’s subordinate, put a meaty hand on his shoulder and broke his chain of thought. Pyotr greeted him with a grim smile.

“I am pleased that the Navy made it to Agartha before the cosmonauts landed on Nibiru, comrade, my only regret is that it was us who made this discovery and not some other misfortunate ship,” Abram said. “Also, at this point I regret that no women were brought on this expedition, because I doubt we will see another woman for a long time.”

“I agree,” Pyotr replied, “but I am more concerned that your sister will become lonely without me to visit her.”

“No,” Abram winked as he said, “I don’t think that will happen. In fact, now she can make father some money again since you don’t waste all of her time at the discounted rate- that whore.”

Pyotr feigned a chuckle, and then looked up at the sun again. It was beginning to darken along the edge like the moon changing phase. Soon, Pyotr imagined, it would wink out entirely and the sky would light up with forests, mountains, and rivers instead of constellations.

“Do you think we will sleep in the boat tonight?” He mused.

“I doubt it,” Abram answered, “The current is already taking that poor bitch to its grave.”

The Commissar stated that today was a great day for the people, and Captain Konstantinovich whispered in his ear. They spoke quietly and heatedly for a few minutes, and then Ivanovich sulked his way back into the ship. The Captain shouted to the crew milling about in the sand that they would camp along the shore that night, and set out tomorrow to explore the surrounding land.

“Told you,” Abram muttered to Pyotr as they worked their way to a pile of damp bedrolls and tents.

By half sun the K-235 had been torn from the sandy beach and into the depths of the sea along with the beds, the kitchen, and the toilets that the crew was already beginning to miss. And as the sun winked out the crew laid down to sleep.

-

“SHWAAAAAAAAK!”

Pyotr struggled to stand and defend himself before he realized he was trapped inside his sleeping bag. Something stood on his chest, and unfalteringly rode his squirming form.

“Shwaaak!” It cried.

Pyotr laid back and tried to see his assailant in the darkness. From his right a light blasted him, and once his vision cleared the tube of light illuminated a squat animal on his chest. It looked like a penguin, only it was white and red instead of the usual coloration. The animal’s soft blue eyes peered down at him.

“You looked like a sausage trying to escape a fat man, comrade.” He heard Senior Matrose Mikhail Borisovich’s high pitched voice from beyond the light. “You want me to kill this bird for you?” A pistol cocked.

“No, no, that is not needed Meeky. I don’t want my first memory of the Fabled Land to be shooting a stupid bird. Besides, he is cute, yes?”

“Shwaaaaaaaak!” The penguin stamped its webbed foot down on Pyotr’s chest, and something glinted in the light.

Pyotr craned his neck to look closer, and saw that some fragment of the K-235 had become lodged in its ankle. He pulled his arms out of the sleeping bag and caressed the animal’s head. Then, cooing, he snatched the bit of metal out of its leg. The bird fluttered its stumpy wings briefly, and then settled down- never moving from Pyotr’s chest. He sighed and moved the bird onto the inky sand between himself and Mikhail. The light gave the penguin a halo briefly before Mikhail switched it off with an audible click.

“Thank you for saving me from this beast Meeky, now go to sleep, there is much to do tomorrow,” Pyotr said, then drifted back to sleep as Mikhail’s footsteps retreated into the darkness.

-

That morning Pyotr awoke to a blood-red penguin staring him down. Pyotr blinked, the penguin blinked. Pyotr wondered to himself if penguins were supposed to be able to blink, but he put that thought aside as the least of his worries at the moment. He shooed the penguin away, but it would not budge from his side. Pyotr shrugged and stood up, smoothing down the wrinkles in his slept-in uniform.

A thin mist had formed along the shore, and it obscured much of the crew and supplies. A few figures shuffled along the sand, given away by the dim glow of their cigarettes.

“Shwaak!”

Pyotr ignored the bird as he looked around for Abram and Mikhail. When he found Abram he administered a swift kick which was met with some half-muttered curses that he ignored. He merely nudged Mikhail with the toe of his boot, because he had a much slighter build than Abram and he was afraid he might injure Mikhail. He had no such compunction towards Abram, however, because the man was build like a bear and, perhaps more importantly, Abram usually deserved such treatment.

They assembled in a half circle with the rest of the crew around the Captain who was assigning survey groups and issuing orders. The Commissar stood behind him and inspected the crew, presumably looking for signs of dissidence now that they were so far from the rallying force of the motherland. A number of unfamiliar crew members lined up beside the Captain and were paired off with the groups. They carried with them various pieces of unusual equipment that Pyotr could only assume was for charting the new continent.

Behind him he heard Abram say, “How did I not see these people before?”

“They are scientists, they would not mingle with the common crew,” Mikhail replied, “Now shut up and pay attention.”

When the Captain was done with assignments the crew collected their gear and went off with their commanding officer and their scientist. Pyotr, Abram, and Mikhail answered to Captain Lieutenant Boris Borisovich the third who explained that their mission was to march straight ahead until the sand ended or the sun set, whichever came first. He then introduced their scientist, Lenka Victorovna, and explained that they were to find samples of local plants and animals for her to catalogue and study.

“Hooray, a woman! And an attractive one at that!” Abram cheered under his breath, causing Mikhail to chuckle.

“She is too good for you, be quiet now,” Mikhail muttered.

Abram attempted to reply, but Boris was alerted to their exchange. He strode confidently over to the two men. “Do you have something to add to the briefing?” He asked in the angriest tone he could muster.

Mikhail opened his mouth to apologize, but all they heard was, “SHWAAAK!” The small man jumped.

Boris looked down at the penguin. “This is what?”

Pyotr said, “It is some sort of bird; his name is, um, Shrapnel. He has followed me wherever I go. I cannot rid myself of him.”

Boris looked at the scientist, “Lenka will need to see it, but since it follows you we will march first. We have ground to cover.” She nodded in agreement, and Boris began to lead the group across the sand.

“Lucky break for you, Meecky.” Pyotr said as they began to march.

“True,” Mikhail replied. Then asked, “Why do you call me Meeky?”

Pyotr smiled, “Because you are short, and your voice is high, and it works with your name to call you Meeky. You know, like Meeky Mouse? But mostly, it pleases me to do so.”

“Who is this mouse?”

“Hmm… I suppose you would not know. A long time ago a neighbor managed to pirate American television broadcasts, and he let me watch a show where ugly American children worshipped this mouse character. When I was a child it seemed harmless and fun. Then this neighbor disappeared and I was questioned by men. I told them that it only reaffirmed for me that American children were weak and being brainwashed, and because I was a child I was not required to be reeducated. My family was watched for some time though.”

“And you would associate me with this?”

“You are both weak-minded and like a mouse. Also, I outrank you, so I can do what I want to you.”

Mikhail prepared to say something in his defense, but Abram cut into their conversation. “Why are you two so hot for each other? It is Lenka you should focus on, not some capitalist rodent! It is shameful that you can even think of such things with a fine woman like her around! More importantly, what do you think my chances are of having her?”

Pyotr sighed. “Ask yourself this: Was any of the captain’s liquor saved from the boat, and can I get it? My no-culture friend, I think you are without luck.”

“That is unfair! What woman could resist a man like me?” Abram said, flexing his muscles. “And with a cute face like mine, she will turn to butter.”

The three men laughed, and Mikhail commented that Abram should probably work on getting the liquor, and both Pyotr and Abram told him to be quiet. He glared at them, but complied.

The sun burned full over the beach, and the group began to see trees along the horizon.



“SHWAAAAK!”

“Damn bird…”