Loot Only When Appropriate

Watched Knowing the other night interesting flick and pretty good. But I noticed something that I have seen a lot of in destruction films. Namely Cloverfield and one of those shitty Day of Destruction Earthquake things. In these movies people always loot when the news breaks what’s going on. Now I get the appeal of looting, there’s free shit, you’re out with friends, and you get to throw bricks through windows. Who doesn’t want to loot? And if you know that 2/3rds of the way through the film that the aliens will level the city, no one is going to miss a couple of wide screen Samsungs and that Mac Book Pro.

The problem is that people in movies seem to loot when its not a good time too. So I have decided to outline the right and wrong times to loot. Let’s break it down by the nature of the crisis.

Zombie Attack: Totally a looting occasion, Zombies are slow, they are often unable to work doors and other simple apparatus and the cops will too busy fighting off the undead to actually stop you. One thing, don’t hold up inside of the mall, this might seem like the best idea, but if you stay in the mall you’re pretty trapped and this always turns out badly in movies and video games.

Giant Monster Attack: This is a no go on the looting, giant monsters cover too much ground too quickly and while you’re carrying out that DVD collection you always wanted he could roll up on you and knock the entire street down. Also too many giant monsters attract the military and other giant monsters. Some of them have beam weapons and other stuff and it can get pretty bad.

Alien Attack: Aliens are smart and most often want to violently destroy us without reason. Thank God that Hollywood has taught us this! Since Alien weapons come in all kinds of varieties this is kind of up to you. If its the ones from War of the Worlds, the worst thing you can do is be in a crowd, they love that. So if the people are looting, don’t. But if everyone is running the other way, you are go for snatch and grab…besides it will be too busy picking them off to notice you carrying the blu ray player.

Super Volcano: What are you stupid? Have you ever seen the speed that a Volcano can erupt at? You better keep your ass at home–far from the city.

Massive Global Warming…Cooling…that thing from Day After Tomorrow: Because this movie hardly made sense, there’s not really evidence of what we should do. I would say go for the looting if you’re not north or west of Texas because that’s where the majority of the shit will go down.

Super Earthquake: Only loot in Earthquake safe buildings…possibly wearing a hard hat.

Nuclear Holocaust: You’re the last one left or one of them? Your house better look like the show room at Best Buy and there should be more cars in your yard than some small dealerships have. This goes for any last people left on Earth incidents.

Super Solar Flare: Why are you stealing, you’re going to be dead in like a matter of hours? Seriously think when you loot, don’t take stuff you won’t ever get to use and in this case you never would get to use it.

I’d like to remind everyone that you should be courteous: don’t steal more than you need. Share: if someone needs to use a cinder block, let them, and then retrieve it and use it again. Don’t forget to steal weapons and ammunition this only applies when the threat is appropriate. And most importantly AIM HIGH: what the fuck are you driving out of there? A Ford Focus? Put that shit back and find a nice Ferrari or Bentley.

Well that’s all…happy looting and if you have any other giant disaster occasions, tell me and I will get them up.

Written In Blood

If they had known what we’d done, Holly kept reminding herself, they’d never let us do this. They’d never even let us be partners.

She stood on the side of the drive watching as the fake movers wheeled “their” furniture up to the decoy house. All of it purchased on the American taxpayer’s dime. It amazed her that the government used such elaborate schemes to catch offenders.

Lewis stood beside her, alternating between a Lucky Strike and an ice cream cone. He only spoke in vowels as he tried to stave off a brain freeze, “Mm, you really should try this, it was nice of the HOA to bring it by.”

“Not hungry,” she didn’t bother to look at him. “Not sure if you noticed, hon, but it’s frigid out here.”

“It’s not that cold,” he took another quick lick. “I couldn’t have done this at home without getting bitched at,” now he was taking a drag on the cigarette.

Holly spoke in a diminished tone, “What the Hell is wrong with you, we’re supposed to be the married couple…”

Lewis glanced up and down the street, “There’s no one out here,” Lewis said, “I know you’re looking for any excuse to light that fuse on your tampon and go rocketing into some lecture.” He started up the driveway towards the garage door following behind two movers carrying an entertainment center.

She clenched her teeth, biting back anything she might say that would be out of character. Just before he entered the house she asked, “Where are you going?”

“Jacuzzi.”

“Don’t smoke that in the house,” she yelled.

The house was a small modern thing, pressed between a pair of modest two stories. Even with real estate market being in turmoil, neighborhoods like this were still flourishing all around Houston. It came as no surprise that not everyone living in them was a law abiding citizen.

Holly took a moment to regain her composure after Lewis left. She stood with her slender arms clutched around her frame in the breezy winter air admiring what would be “their” house for the next few weeks.

“Just moving in?” a shrill voice cut the air behind Holly after a few minutes. She whirled around to see a scrawny young lady in a bright red sun dress. It’s too fucking cold for sun dresses.

Holly forced a prim smile, “Oh, hello.”

The woman scratched her bushel of frizz, “You must be Carol Benedict.

“Heh, yeah,” Holly said. The sound of her pseudonym caught her off guard. “And you are?”

“Annemarie Thyne,” she said. “It’s one word,” she added tilting her head to the side as she clasped Holly’s hand.

“Huh?” Holly played the part of the unassuming housewife well, even if she wasn’t playing.

“Annemarie is one word,” she said

“Oh,” Holly laughed. “Sorry, it’s just—I’m utterly shattered.” She drew her arms about herself again, “Haven’t had good sleep in a while.”

“I see, I see—well I just stopped by to welcome you to the neighborhood,” she brought her hands together at the conclusion of her sentence. “I live right over there,” Annemarie pointed to a house on the opposite side of the street at the corner. “If you have any questions or need anything, just come over!”

Holly nodded, “Will do.”

A moment later Holly watched as she returned across the street to her own home. Her husband came out to get the mail. They kissed on the front lawn. It made Holly cringe, not in disgust. But it caused desires to well within her.

Holly had to go inside.

She slipped her heels off inside of the door. The marble tile was cold against her feet and she rushed for the carpet. The spectral aroma of roasted tobacco dominated the air. I told him to stop smoking those Goddamn things in here.

The movers were working upstairs, but she could hear a toilet flush in the bedroom. Holly turned, walking the short hall with her hands clenched at her sides, “Lewis!” she said.

She entered the room to find him shirtless and flicking his cigarette back into the toilet.

“Lewis!”

“It’s Dan.”

“We’ve got to lay out some ground rules,” she said.

“Like?”

Holly glanced into the bathroom, “You’ve left the seat up, balled your knickers up on the floor, and tossed your cigarette in the loo after flushing…”

“Wow, we’re already doing this?” he brushed past her.

“Did you wash your hands?” she asked.

He placed his phone and wallet in a neat stack atop the shelf and began fiddling with the string of his swim trunks. “I squat, like a girl.”

Holly sighed, “Why are you acting like this?”

“I talked to the SAC and I protested this case,” Lewis said. “I’m not thrilled about this.”

“Why?”

“We’re expected to show affection in public,” Lewis said. He slammed the bedroom door, “And we already fucked.”

“That wasn’t our fault,” she shifted her eyes to escape his gaze. “We were shot up with narcotics and—“

“This was a bad idea.”

“It’s just a case,” Holly said, “And we can work it like any other.” He leaned against the wall and his muscles flexed. She couldn’t admit it, but right then she wished he’d been wearing a shirt.

He rifled through his pockets. “If we fuck this up, it could get us both killed,” he said. “Can’t just carry my gun like normal.”

“I know,” Holly said, “but I’m keeping a cool head, so it’s not like you can’t.” Liar. She tried not to picture his hands on her hips and prayed he didn’t touch her.

For a moment he stared at her. Then he opened the door. That bedroom door was their curtain going up.

“I’m going to try out the hot tub, Honey. You want to come?”

Holly exhaled, “I better start dinner. We’ll be eating take-out if I don’t get the kitchenware unpacked.”

“Want any help?” he paused at the end of the short hall.

She smiled, a faux, forced smile, “I want you out of my hair,” her tone was playful. “Go relax.” When he was gone from sight she walked into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind her. She took a seat on the edge of the tub and rested her head in her hands.

…I’m keeping a cool head, so it’s not like you can’t.

It would actually be easier for him. He was getting a divorce. He’d been with a woman on at least a regular basis. Before him, Holly hadn’t touched a man in two years. Now she was trapped with the only man she could think about and the only one she couldn’t have. I’m so, so fucked.

Law & Order Yemen

I didn’t catch the lead in or second act…but it ends like this:

This is criminal justice, Yemen style. A man accused of raping and murdering an 11-year-old boy is paraded through his home town before being shot dead by an executioner.

Hundreds of onlookers lined the streets to watch the gruesome scene, cheering and shouting abuse at Yehya Hussein al-Raghwah.

The boy, Hamdi al-Kabas, had reportedly come into his shop for a haircut last December during the Muslim festival of Eid. After brutally attacking him, the barber cut his body into pieces and dumped them outside the capital Sana’a. He was given the death penalty by a Yemeni court a month later after apparently admitting his crime.

Shocking images of his final moments were released following the execution yesterday.

First he leaves the city’s central prison, handcuffed and dressed in white robes. Fear etched on his face, he is surrounded by soldiers as he is led towards a ceremonial red carpet.

He is allowed to say a final prayer, his shirt is then ripped open before he is laid face down.

As a police official reads out his sentence for the last time, a doctor oversees his treatment and crowds – which appear to include children – jeer and punch the air, some filming his final moment on their mobile phones.

I think that we need to go this route more often, call it cruel, call it barbaric. But if someone saw this happen in their street, they’d think twice about diddling kids or hurting them.

Article Link

Atheist Summer Camps?

Is it just me is it getting hard to tell the atheists from the religious? Yet more proof that atheism is just a religion for the godless and with science as its doctrine. Before you go getting all butt hurt just read this definition:

Religion - a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

It’s not a far jump to make that the way its practiced by some, atheism could fall under that umbrella. Ah well, here is the article that I saw passed along on another site.

Prof Richard Dawkins, the prominent atheist, has helped set up an atheist summer camp where children will be taught rational skepticism and sing John Lennon’s Imagine alongside the more traditional activities of canoeing and swimming.

The evolutionary biologist and author of The God Delusion, who stepped down from his post at Oxford University last year, has subsidised the five-day camp in Somerset.

Camp-goers will be given lessons in rational scepticism, as well as sessions in moral philosophy and evolutionary biology.

There will be more familiar camp activities such as trekking, tug-of-war, canoeing and swimming but children will also be taught to disprove phenomena such as crop circles and telepathy.

The retreat is for children aged eight to 17 and will rival traditional faith-based breaks run by the Scouts and church groups. It will teach that religious belief and doctrines can prevent ethical and moral behaviour.

The camp is part of a campaign, backed by Dawkins and Professor AC Grayling, the philosopher and writer, designed to challenge Christian societies, collective worship and religious education.

Prof Dawkins said it was designed to “teach children to think for themselves, sceptically and rationally”. All 24 places at the camp, which runs from July 27-31, have been taken.

Crispian Jago, an IT consultant, is hoping the experience will enrich his two children.

“I’m very keen on not indoctrinating them with religion or creeds,” he said. “I would rather equip them with the tools to learn how to think, not what to think.”

The emphasis on critical thinking is epitomised by a test called the Invisible Unicorn Challenge. Children will be told by camp leaders that the area around their tents is inhabited by two unicorns.

The activities of these creatures, of which there will be no physical evidence, will be regularly discussed by organisers, yet the children will be asked to prove that the unicorns do not exist.

Anyone who manages to prove this will win a £10 note – which features an image of Charles Darwin, the father of evolutionary theory – signed by Dawkins, a former professor of the public understanding of science at Oxford University.

“The unicorns are not necessarily a metaphor for God, they are to show kids that you can’t prove a negative,” said Samantha Stein, who is leading next month’s camp at the Mill on the Brue outdoor activity centre close to Bruton, Somerset.

“We are not trying to bash religion, but it encourages people to believe in a lot of things for which there is no evidence.”

A spokesman for the Church of England questioned Dawkins’ decision to stage a summer camp for atheists.

“We would defend the right for anyone to set up an event like this, as long as the young people are happy to attend,” he said.

“But in his imitation of the type of youth events that religious groups have been running for years, Dawkins makes atheism look even more like the thing he is rallying against.”

Atheist Summer Camps?

Is it just me is it getting hard to tell the atheists from the religious? Yet more proof that atheism is just a religion for the godless and with science as its doctrine. Before you go getting all butt hurt just read this definition:

Religion - a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

It's not a far jump to make that the way its practiced by some, atheism could fall under that umbrella. Ah well, here is the article that I saw passed along on another site.

Prof Richard Dawkins, the prominent atheist, has helped set up an atheist summer camp where children will be taught rational scepticism and sing John Lennon's Imagine alongside the more traditional activities of canoeing and swimming.

The evolutionary biologist and author of The God Delusion, who stepped down from his post at Oxford University last year, has subsidised the five-day camp in Somerset.

Camp-goers will be given lessons in rational scepticism, as well as sessions in moral philosophy and evolutionary biology.

There will be more familiar camp activities such as trekking, tug-of-war, canoeing and swimming but children will also be taught to disprove phenomena such as crop circles and telepathy.

The retreat is for children aged eight to 17 and will rival traditional faith-based breaks run by the Scouts and church groups. It will teach that religious belief and doctrines can prevent ethical and moral behaviour.

The camp is part of a campaign, backed by Dawkins and Professor AC Grayling, the philosopher and writer, designed to challenge Christian societies, collective worship and religious education.

Prof Dawkins said it was designed to "teach children to think for themselves, sceptically and rationally". All 24 places at the camp, which runs from July 27-31, have been taken.

Crispian Jago, an IT consultant, is hoping the experience will enrich his two children.

"I'm very keen on not indoctrinating them with religion or creeds," he said. "I would rather equip them with the tools to learn how to think, not what to think."

The emphasis on critical thinking is epitomised by a test called the Invisible Unicorn Challenge. Children will be told by camp leaders that the area around their tents is inhabited by two unicorns.

The activities of these creatures, of which there will be no physical evidence, will be regularly discussed by organisers, yet the children will be asked to prove that the unicorns do not exist.

Anyone who manages to prove this will win a £10 note - which features an image of Charles Darwin, the father of evolutionary theory - signed by Dawkins, a former professor of the public understanding of science at Oxford University.

"The unicorns are not necessarily a metaphor for God, they are to show kids that you can't prove a negative," said Samantha Stein, who is leading next month's camp at the Mill on the Brue outdoor activity centre close to Bruton, Somerset.

"We are not trying to bash religion, but it encourages people to believe in a lot of things for which there is no evidence."

A spokesman for the Church of England questioned Dawkins' decision to stage a summer camp for atheists.

"We would defend the right for anyone to set up an event like this, as long as the young people are happy to attend," he said.

"But in his imitation of the type of youth events that religious groups have been running for years, Dawkins makes atheism look even more like the thing he is rallying against."

Action

Things have kind of been in a rut lately and I think I need to go ahead and work on getting out of it. For real this time. It's been hard for me to sit here and just ignore what's happening but at the same time things aren't going to get any better if I just don't do anything eithe.

In leaving a message for someone, I was forced to come to terms with some of the things that have happened in the past few months. I went from thinking I could never feel as good as I had a few months ago to really far down in the dumps over some stuff. Needless to say I don't feel the need to retell them here not because this isn't a private place but because I don't think they need to be repeated or discussed anymore. I have talked them out, I have rolled them over and over in my head lately and when I left the message...I came to the conclusion that what I needed to say--what I had to say is what I always had.

And that's really, all I can say about it.

Heaven Forbid

The story I wrote a little over a year ago that basically changed the take I had on a lot of my characters. So now I am facing doing a rewrite of it, or at least of part of the actions from it. Only this time I plan to give the fights purpose and other things they did not have before.

On a side note, I was looking for badass Bible quotes and came up with something off a cracked article:

From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. "Go on up, you baldhead!" they said. "Go on up, you baldhead!" He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the the youths - II Kings 2:23-24

I don't think I ever remember reading this part.

Writing Quotes

I have been taking a bit of a forced break from my writing lately, mostly because of the fact that I am trying to just kill some time and not write. Well I have been looking over some of my favorite quotes from different books and things on writing. I might be posting some of these from time to time:

"2nd draft = 1st Draft - 10%"

This first one is from Stephen King, I like it because I take it to mean that we can always trim a little off that first draft. I am one for brevity and I like the idea that I can really get down to it and shave off a lot of unnecessary words.

"When you write a story, you're telling yourself a story. When you rewrite, you're taking out all of the things that are not the story."

This is just a cute little saying, it comes again from King and closely precedes his advice to write with the door closed and edit with the door open. I don't really agree with this because I am constantly showing my writing, going back and chipping away at little things as I am writing and coming back to write more, but I think that it could work for some people.

Remember, these are not facts or rules that everyone will agree with. Nor will they work for everyone. But I think that for some, at least one of these things might help them or give them that extra little boost or even just inspire them to do the opposite.

Place yourself in the background. Write in a way that draws the reader's attention to the sense and substance of the writing, rather than the mood and temper of the author. If the writing is solid and good, the mood and temper of the writer wil eventually be revealed and not at the expense of the work. Therefore, the first piece of advice is this: to achieve style, begin by affecting none--that is, place yourself in thebackground. A careful and honest writer does not need to worry about style. As you become proficient in the use of language, your style will emerge, because you yourself will emerge, and when this happens you will find it increasingly easy to break through the barriers that separate you from other minds, other hearts--which is of course, the purpose of writing, as well as it principal reward. Fortunately, the act of composition, or creation, disciplines the mind; writing is one way to go about thinking, and the practice and habit of writing not only drain the mind but supply it, too.

This final quote comes from The Elements of Style by William Strunk and E.B. White. The book is in its 4th edition and has come to be regarded as pretty high up the chain of books on writing. It's very brief and very affordable. Well that's all for now I think I might post some more later.

Novel

At a certain word count, a book turns into a novel or rather a book is considered a novel. I don't think I even knew that until very recently but when does a book feel like a novel? When, while writing it, do you get the true sensation that you are writing a novel? This experience with Four Winds has been fun, its been very different from what I expected and when I started out I didn't ever think I would go in half of the directions it has. A book and characters growing and learning and growing outside of what you expected isn't bad but as I sit here on the cusp of 80,000 words I look back and know that this isn't it. I've started a series, I've got a long road of editing and rewriting and added ahead of me and I still have to find a publisher for the damn thing.

Even then, this is really exciting.

Racism in Houston

Th internet affords one a lot of opportunities to make an ass of themselves. Stupidity is the cancer that infests the information super highway and it seems to come in many forms. Bigotry has found a new home in cyberspace and I was shocked to see some of the things posted in my own city on the site Topix which is like a large forumor some such shit. Basically, from what I can tell, its a place where some people go to discuss things and some cyber degenerates go to beg for online sex. But to each his own.

Anyway, these comments were posted in a thread about racism that made me take notice. The basic idea is that the commenter used an unregistered guest account to make a stereotypical ethnic name and troll (for those who don't know, trolling is fueling the argument in a bad way) the site. The first one is as follows.

Written by "Eboneesha"

My name be Eboneesha Li Herenandez, an African Hispanic Asiatic-American Girl who just got an award for being the bess speler in class. I got 67% on the speling test and 30 points being black, 5 points for not bringin drugs into class, 5 points for not bringin guns into class, and 5 points for not gettin pregnut during the cemester. It be hard to beat a score of 120%. White dude who sit nex to me is McGee . He got a 94% on the test but no etstra points on acount of he have the same skin color as the opressirs of 150 years ago. Granny ax me to thank all Dimocrafts and Liberuls for suportin Afermative action. You be showin da way to true eqwallity. I be gittin in medical skool nex an mabe I be yo doctor when Barrac take over da healtcare in dis cuntry.

The second post is probably the same person and equally ignorant to the facts.

Written by "Papi"

My son took a test for the fire department in a large city here in Texas. He got a 72 on the test but got 30 points added for being Hispanic. That 102 total put him in the academy and some anglos who might have scored 100, left out. He felt bad but I told him what the heck! If they're giving out benefits for free, what the heck!

I'm sorry, people who write stuff like this and believe this kind of shit should be told better...wait no they should be drug from their cars and hit with a pipe wrench. I know we're not supposed to advocate violence--but just call it going back to my Crusader roots. While I don't neeccessarily agree with affirmitive action, it doesn't work like that and on that small a level. In fact it should be done away with, because it might have been needed for a short time, but I think that time has passed--black president and all, kind of hard to say a black man can't get anywhere in this country.

Even then, these people are obviously sick, degenerate KKK members or something like that. Because while the average racist person has a small level of innocent racism to one subject (like interracial dating) these mongoloid dick heads seem to think that a fifty year old stereotype represents an entire set of ethnic groups. I've got one thing to say to people like this, if you have to use the internet to say something that you feel because you're too scared to say it to the face of someone do us a favor and leave--and take your white hood when you go.

WTF

This is a wild video I saw posted here:

Civilization by Marco Brambilla from CRUSH on Vimeo.

Rape and Child Porn are Constitution Rights?

I am becoming increasingly disgusted by the state of some people online and what they view as appropriate. After some feminists lobbied to have Rape simulators and child pornography games banned, a ban which I fully supported, there was a mobilization the likes of which you don't often see on the internet. People shouting about free speech, about their rights, about America being more open sexually...what were they all so adamant about protecting? Racial rights? Gay rights? Abortion rights?

No.

They wanted the right to play sexual games that involved children and raping women. And I don't mean the legal definition of a child. A sixteen or seventeen year old girl, while considered a child, is fully grown in most ways biologically and in many country they are considered adults for sexual purposes. I am talking about actual children. Persons nine and ten years old and sometimes younger.

What's worse is that the ban's major target, rape, is seen to be by some as a normal sexual desire for someone to have. They don't see anything wrong with playing a game where the entire object is to rape someone else and there is no other path to take. In fact, they see the way that stores have stopped carrying the games and that Amazon.com refuses to sell them as a gross miscarriage of justice.

People cried out that "even women have rape fantasies"--yes some of them do claim that, but the fact that they're having a fantasy about it doesn't mean they want to be raped and truly saying that you think a woman would enjoy rape should upset any woman within a ninety three million mile radius. Some would make the argument from an anthropological argument that rape is only culturally unacceptable here, therefore its not our right to promote our values worldwide. To them I say this, rape, whether accepted or not anywhere in the world, if it is truly rape. It's wrong. Rape is never right, never can be. End of story.

These games were made in Japan, a place where things are seemingly calm. But lets not forget that a years ago there was a call for them to provide separate train cars for women because of men rubbing against them. So its not that hard to see that even in a country as set on honor of family and the like, there can be problems. But the thing is, countries like Australia have already banned animated child pornography--the portrayal of rape I doubt will be messed with there. The U.K. took steps to do the same recently. While the U.S. is kind of playing with the idea, even going as far to take a man to court over it, I think that the issue here is this.

If a company wants to make video games about rape, child molestation and bestiality, they are actually free to do so because of our Constitution. But any store, corporation or person is free not to sell, own or buy them and we are all free to protest them. Furthermore, if you find sexual gratification watching actual rape--not that role playing stuff--then there might be something wrong with you. Correction. There's something fucking wrong with you. If you get sexual gratification from seeing children nude or placed in sexually explicit or suggestive situations, you are a pedophile.

I can't sugarcoat this and I frankly don't care about the feelings of anyone who would want to argue these statements with me. On the subject of pedophilia and the outcry that the people always make about "can't you just call us Lolicon Lovers?" Nope. I could call the Klan Aryan Race Enthusiasts, doesn't make them any less of a horrible cancer in the body of the Human race.

Students of the Universe Part 1

As it appeared on Writer's Beat.com

The stench of hot garbage in the alley was so harsh and pungent it was hard to distinguish any other smell. Heavy rain from the previous night had washed through the alley. The water was brimming with the fumes and juices of meals long passed. As the sun reached between the buildings to reveal trains of people and cars moving through the streets, it also brought more revelations.

Between the two red brick buildings, where illumination held little dominion, a body lay bludgeoned and caked with crusty blood. What had once been the face was now a shredded mess of tissue, decomposing over a bag of burst open garbage. The corpse’s arms were spread, the right actually twisted out of joint. The skin had been ripped apart at the shoulder and showed a yellow mass of tissue.

The medical examiner made it a point to say that the person had probably laid there for a while before expiring. It had been a painful death.

Each car passing in the road sent water spraying from the divots in the concrete. The sound almost drowned out the words of the uniformed officer as Lewis slipped a cigarette into his mouth. “She’s been here a few days,” said the officer as Lewis took a drag, “It’s a wonder that more of the blood didn’t wash away.”

Lewis nodded, “Could you have at least tried to cover up some of this goddamn smell…”

“Sorry Agent Reynolds,” the officer said, “But the alley is filled with trash.”

He plucked the cigarette from his mouth and turned to the cop, “Well before you call me out here to stand in some shit like this next time, remember—a picture’s worth a thousand words.”

The cop grimaced, his mouth parted as if to speak but then he just strode off. Lewis knelt down next to the body. A hot putrid odor was rising from the corpse. He un-holstered his side arm and used the nose of the weapon to push back some of the trash and get a better look at the body. He sighed, blinking as he tried to push through the horrid smell.

“Not a bad looking girl,” Lewis remarked to the nearest officer, “Bit of a brown bagger.”

The cop glared at him with eyes wide, but said nothing.

Lewis covered his mouth to cough and then looked up, “Where’s my partner?” he asked.

“She arrived earlier,” one of the medical examiners said, “But I think the sight of the corpse got to her.”

Lewis turned and walk towards the medical examiner; she was a short chunky blonde who appeared too young to work for the police department. In the back of the investigator van, near where she stood, there was a box filled with instruments and supplies, he snatched one of the wipes out of the box to clean his gun off as he spoke, “I’m going to find Agent Prescott.”

“We can’t leave this body here…” she replied.

“It’s been here for at least a few days,” Lewis said, “I doubt that it’s going anywhere.” He returned his gun to its holster and walked off down the alley way. He turned the corner and stopped to look through the window of a deli. A harsh glare on the glass forced him to cup his hands over his eyes, but he spotted her at a table in the corner with bottle of tea. He left his cigarette dying on the sidewalk as he neared the door.

Lewis was hit was a rush of warm air as he entered. He hadn’t realized it was that cold outside until he was inside. He rubbed his hands together as he made his way over to her. She sat with her legs crossed and her head hung. Chances were she hadn’t spotted Lewis yet because her long brown hair was in her face.

He came to a stop right next to her, then turned to the man at the counter only a few feet away, “Can you get me a coke?” asked Lewis.

The man at the counter nodded and walked off to get the drink.

She never looked up from the table as she lifted the bottle of iced tea and took a sip, “American tea isn’t even really tea,” she started in a low, flat tone, “All I taste is bloody lemons.”

Lewis ran his hand over the top of his short hair, “You okay, kid?” he asked.

“I hated that we were transferred,” she said. She scooted closer to the table some, but she had to be careful of her injured arm. Only a few weeks prior she had taken a bullet in the arm. It hadn’t hit anything too vital, but while it healed up the two of them had been moved to an Investigative Crimes Unit inside of the F.B.I.

“Well they had to give you time to heal up, Holly,” Lewis said as he sat down.

As she nodded Lewis caught a glimpse of her eyes, tinted a shade of red. Her hair hid the way the eye shadow had smeared. Holly exhaled roughly, “Does the victim have a name yet?”

“I didn’t bother to ask,” Lewis said.

“I see,” Holly pushed the bistre tendrils out of her face, “I suppose we should try and scrape up some evidence.”

Lewis gazed out to the street, “Yeah,” he said, “Although witnesses for this kind of thing are usually few and far between.” When he glanced up again he spotted someone in the alley adjacent to the scene of the crime, “I might know where to start.”

Lewis threw a twenty on the table and didn’t bother to wait for change. He and Holly made their way across the street and into the opposing alley. A blustery wind pushed at them as they came to a stop next to a makeshift shelter. Sticks were lashed with bits of string and twine, made to support a blue tarp that was haphazardly strapped down.

A little ways up the alley was a man who was little more than waxy red skin wrapped over bone. He was mostly naked with a cloth bundled about his crotch like a makeshift diaper. His bony fingers grasped a stick that was burnt at the end, as he scratched something into the side of the building with it. His eyes were wild as he danced with eccentric motions still holding the stick. The hole of his mouth appeared in the scraggly yellow beard as he muttered to himself.

Holly shrunk back behind Lewis as they approached, “Sir…” Lewis started. The man didn’t react. “Sir, I’m Agent Reynolds and this is my partner Agent Prescott, we’re with the F.B.I.”

The stick scratching at the wall became more pronounced as the man tossed his head back to let out a cackling chuckle. He brought his head down and scratched at the spotty clumps of hair on his head.

Lewis and Holly stepped closer to the man, Lewis sighed, “Sir, did you hear me?”

Holly pointed up at the wall, “Lewis,” she whispered form behind him, “That’s Umbral Calculus,” she said, “I remember it from Uni.”

“Math’s never been my thing,” Lewis said as he approached the man. He touched the man on the back, his reddened skin was sticky with sweat and calloused. “Sir!” he shouted.

The man turned around, “Hmm,” he said glaring at them, “Can’t you see I’m busy, boy.”

Holly’s muscles constricted as his gaze fell on her, she swallowed hard, “That’s a right complex equation you’ve got there, Umbral Calculus if I’m not mistaken?”

He nodded, “It would seem you possess a keen eye, I was hoping to show that these two equations are in actuality similar. Of course in proving this I will have proved very little besides that they are related…these numbers have no practical application for me, you see a common beggar.” As he spoke his movements were exaggerated and dramatically pronounced, like a theater actor.

Lewis put his hand to his chin, “I see,” he said, “And do you teach this class out here often Professor.”

“I’m called Skarkiss,” the beggar replied, “These equations are the way that the universe speaks to me, it speaks to us all. I am a mere conduit through which the communications are passed down and read out through, like a seismograph reads the vibrations of the Earth. I am a professor in nothing, I teach no one…I am just a student of the universe.”

Lewis rolled his eyes, “For fuck’s sake.”

Missed

Seems I need to stop neglecting this place, I have missed blogger but I have also taken up a second, secret blog elsewhere on the web. I will be maintaining them both, but this will be my out in the open, outright, blog. My life has been poured into this thing for the better part of four years after all. I will continue to update this.

What's going on with me? Well my novel is coming along and some other smaller fiction writing. And then there is my job search. But I'm around, if you stop by--drop me a line.

San Antonio

I went there for a wedding this past week and it just already feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders, or at least it did. Then I come back to the real world and I just feel like here I don't want anything to do with most of the people and like there's nothing new or interesting or fun here for me to do. I want to move back but I don't even know where to begin.

Care?

I never knew how little I cared until I thought back on all of the things you put me through and I thought back to the times where I bent over backwards to really make you notice me. I have to blame myself for some of it, because I could have, should have stopped. But I think some of the blame rests with you for your own actions.

Someone Get All These Damn Kids Off The Internet

Maybe six years ago it seemed like the internet was a more mature place, I could get on and have intelligent discussion with other. The first thing that an immature person seems to want to do is try and make you see they are mature by talking about sex, how they have sex and how sex is the best thing ever, especially when sex is handled in an immature way. That's what seems to fit the entire thing that I see going on right now. As it stands right now there are some people who I think should be left on an island to perish.

If you can't consider the feelings of others when you engage in relationships, why do we need you?

Funeral

There's a funeral for a family member this weekend, its someone I barely know and they were very old. I didn't talk to them ever and I usually avoided them because I didn't like going to the town they lived in. Now it seems my Dad is mad at me because he thinks I should go. I hate funerals, I hate going to them especially when I don't know the person involved and it makes me feel awkward because I don't have anything comforting to say to anyone to help them out and I don't think things will be helped by me being there. I'm not a comforting person, not in the least and I don't see how I could be when the people who's family member it is seem so bent on not liking me. You see, I'm not directly related to the person who died.

He's related to someone who married into our family and I just can't go to a funeral for someone I don't know because it just seems like a chance for something to go wrong. Hell I remember when I was at my brother's funeral I wondered to myself "why are some of these people here, they never semed to care when he was alive, so why fake it now". I don't think that makes me an asshole or anything, I just think that makes me truthful.

Plot

There's been a little bit of time since since I actually got to sit down and write in this, or write something in this that I really wanted to. I guess a lot has happened since I last touched this blog and some of it is documented in other places, but I will be moving it here, so if the gaps in date between this post and the last is suddenly closed, you'll know why.

It seems that its wedding season all over again, after having the last wedding I was supposed to attend get canceled, not that I wanted to go in the first place, two more wedding's have come up. These two, I actually care about, being the difference this time. For some reason it still kind of surprises me when I see people I know getting married. I think that Tiffany was the first to really do it and I was shocked then because I just don't think of us as being that old, even though we're getting older every second.

I feel like soon I'll be sitting there thinking, "holy shit, I'm 45" or something to that effect. Of course that's only if we make it that long. Just as shocking as the marriages and babies that have come up are the deaths. A few people I know have died in accidents and the like, even one or two have just dropped completely off the radar screen. I am sure that somehow some of them will turn up later.

Life seems to sometimes work like a plotted out novel, people vanish from the pages only to turn up much later and slip right back into the lives of the characters. I wonder sometimes if that's a sign of something more, then again it could just be a sign of just how small the world we live in really is. I can't say that I want to see all of the people who went away, but sometimes I think that it would be interesting.

...

I can't help but feel like I have done something wrong. Besides the usual, I mean. There is just a lot of stuff going on in my head and I can't deal with most of it. It seems that I also don't want help from anyone else either, since I have been constantly pushing that away. Truth of the matter is, I don't know what I want to do, but I know that I feel like I can't do things anymore. It seems more and more each day that the things I once had are slipping away, the things I could do right.

I used to write in this thing...five times a week, some times I would do it multiple times a day. Now I seem to not write in it once a month, but looking back there is more buzzing through my brain now than there was before. I can't be sure what to think about all of this...