Friday, November 21 - Ekphrasis

Caravaggio: Davide/Galea (1607)

His name is not Inigo Montoya,
This man did not kill my father,
This man did not have six fingers on his right hand.
This man was not prepared to die.
But die he did.

This victorious man, holding aloft a blade,
Faced down his enemy, and laid
down the long arm of the law,
and that last thing that the man saw,
was his life flashing before his eyes.

Who was this man, beaten and slain?
What would we see if we went down his memory lane?
Was he a cruel, psychopathic beast who deserved justice?
Or was he murdered by someone who is completely heartless?
All I know is the dude still standing looks pretty smug about himself.

Jerk.
Or maybe not. Find out here

Thursday, November 20 - Emotions

There is a great and endless war that rages throughout the mind. On one side there is Joy; the light of the conscious, everything that is good and glorious in this world. Joy rules with the hand of justice and peace, leading ever onward with the mind at full strength. On the other there are the combined forces of Fear, Anger, Disgust, and Sadness. They all want to enslave the mind, turn it into a beast that wallows around in misery. They want to rule an oppressed mind that no longer has the strength to fight of it's own enemies. 

There are some days when Joy is stronger, but there are others when Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness are in control. Those are dark days. But Joy, being swept along with happiness and confidence, always rides on and wins the mind back. But always the others will resist. They will not stop until the mind is under their control. Joy knows this, and that it must fight until the eternal darkness when the mind closes forever.

And one day, Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness all approached Joy with a challenge. "Your doom day is coming. In 12 days it will begin. You know that it is coming, and you know that you will never be weaker."

"And what of it? Joy can always be found in the darkness of times."

"But Anger will be felt. The Anger that the mind is abandoned, left alone, doomed to continue on without a guiding hand. Anger that this dooms day has to happen. Yes, Anger is the emotion that will control the mind."

"There will be no anger, for the mind has already accepted the fact that doomsday is coming. Anger, you are too late to take control. There will be no anger, for the mind will not be alone this time. Even if it is, the truth will finally be known, and there is Joy in that."

Anger left in a huff, shouting and screaming abuse to the world and everything in it. Fear came up next, shaking and quivering, and whispered in Joy's ear. "But even you will feel the fear that is coming on doomsday. You know what will happen. You have already gone through this many times; you know what awaits you. You fear the silence and the darkness."

"Fear, you are not strong enough. The mind is ready. It fears no pain, nor blindness, nor loneliness, for it has made preparations.What you say it true, this has happened before. But just like every time, the shadow will always pass."

Fear tried again. "But you fear of more another doomsday! That this is not the end!"

Joy nodded her head. "Perhaps, but part of my being, Hope, allows me to believe that this will finally be an end to this, and there is Joy in that."

Fear jumped away, constantly looking back over his shoulder. Disgust came next, a glutiness blob that tries to consume Joy.  "The mind will be disgusted. This is the final test, we all agreed to this. The mind will be left alone, completely forgotten, and the only thing it feels towards those it once knew is Disgust."

"Yes," Joy agreed, "This is the Final Test, but the mind will not be disappointed. There is already much support for it; it will not be forgotten. It will feel endless gratitude instead of Disgust. And there is much Joy in that."

Disgust rolled away, growling and leaving a trail of slime in his wake. Sadness was last, timid and small, but perhaps the greatest of the minds enemies. It spoke in a soft voice of one who had given up all hope. "If what you say does not come true, then I will rule. The mind will never be in a greater state of depression. I will be all that is left, abandoned in the empty shell that was once a person."

Then Joy stooped down and lifted Sadness's chin. "But what I say is true, I know it this time. Even before when this has happened, I have always emerged on top. Life will always give the mind reasons to be joyful, and one day you will see that your sadness will be shed as the mind finally reaches the end destination. We are not so different, you and I. There are many times when we have worked together, and others when we are the bitterest of enemies. But on this oncoming doomsday, you will see just how wrong you are. For this time, the light will shine all the clearer, and the curtain will be torn, and the darkness will finally pass. And in this case, there is much Joy in that."

Maybe these are the voices you hear, perhaps not. Or maybe you're just schizophrenic. 

Take your pick.

Tuesday, November 18--Treason and Historical Fiction

Today, the government will fall. Since Bloody Monday all the way back in 2022, the new American Empire has ruled the people with an iron fist. All of our former allies have all been betrayed and conquered, Now, a hundred years later, there is very little of the free world that can stand against the big brother government.
My name is Sofa. I know, its an odd name, but my parents wanted something original. Too bad they're not around to call me that. They were killed by the government when they were smuggling me out of the country. I've been living in China for the last 23 years. They have united with Russia to form the Red Band, and they are literally the only ones left that is keeping the American Empire from taking over the world.
Though the Red Band continues to fight on, me and my fellow conspirators, the Order of Fawkes, know that our nation cannot win through strength of arms alone. China and Russia will fall if nothing changes. Therefore, the Order of Fawkes, named after Guy Fawkes of course, had been planning to strike the Empire right in the heart. If we can succeed in destroying the government ruling class and killing the emperor, then maybe the people from all over the world will rise up and fight back.
Of course, the people that we want to kill are the most highly protected on the planet. Washington DC is a military fortress. I don't even know if any civilians are allowed to live there anymore. It's all soldiers and government officials. The place is locked up tighter than a rich man's purse, but my organization has some of the best thieves and assassins the world has to offer. We rather easily left China and landed on America'a eastern coast. We studied an entire company of imperial soldiers outside the city. We were all assigned to impersonate one of them, and we spent months secretly learning their habits and behaviors, and, more importantly, all of the pass codes and information that will get us into the city. When the time was right, we killed them all and took their places. Now with the official patches of imperial soldiers, we have access to the city.
Today, the government will fall. The emperor is meeting with congress today to discuss future actions against the Red Band. Better yet, they were having this meeting in the old capital building. We piled onto four large trucks and headed for the city. My commander managed to bluff our way inside, saying that someone had requested more bodyguards. The imperial soldiers at the gate didn't double check this. Everyone knows what happens to soldiers who bother the congressmen.
Now that we are inside the city, it is finally time for the final plan. To my greatest honor, my commander chose me to lead thirty men to infiltrate the sewers beneath the capital building to set explosives, while the rest of the order patrols the outside like any other guard, making sure that no one escapes.
I lead the men through the sewers and maintenance tunnels underneath the building. Not surprisingly, the area is guarded with drones. I decide that we need to knock them out quickly. Once one goes down, the soldiers up top will know whats going on. I raise my plasma pistol and fire on the drones, turning them into melting slag. "Go! plant as many explosives as you can!" I tell my men, and the scramble off to do my bidding. It isn't long before enemy soldiers start to find us. Before long, there are firefights all throughout the basement. I myself kill four soldiers who got in my way. I feel no remorse; it was these people who had killed my parents. I regroup with the remains of my team, though there are only ten of us left.
"All the charges are set! We must detonate them before the enemy can disarm them!" One of them says.
"Let us head to the surface. Give me the detonator. When we are outside, I will blow this whole place up." The slim stick of metal is pressed into my hands. It gives me great satisfaction to know that the power to end the world as we know it is in my hand. We head out the way we come and exit through a manhole in a street near the capital building.
The second my head emerges from the hole, I am roughly grabbed by the hair and hauled out. From the black uniforms that now surprise me, I know that the imperial soldiers have quickly taken control. The man who grabbed me beats me with the butt of his rifle. I collapse on the ground, but I am still conscious. Through a haze of blood I can see the building, and that most of the order is dead. Those that remain are being executed one by one. I also see that the emperor himself, and all of congress are outside the building, but scattered all over the steps.
Today, the government will fall, but I will die with it. These soldiers will kill me; they never take prisoners. I only have one chance to make everything right before it is too late. my eyes meet with the commander of the order, who lies beaten on the ground nearby. He nods. I can only hope that the emperor is close enough to the building. Just as a soldier raises his weapon to finish me off, I jam my finger down on the detonator. The ground cracks and shakes, a wave of fire washed over all, and then darkness.

Monday, November 17--Found Poem

An hour before sunset
mist-banded fields wheel towards
the forest away.
The Covenant Man I fear.
Twilight at noonday,
but it had happened before.
The Covenant Man I fear.
This sorrow came often,
to be taken by a dragon
into the welcoming glow of home.
The Covenant Man I fear,
before the cold hearth,
in truth, it is not well.
The Covenant Man I fear.


I have no idea what I'm doing
But the Covenant Man I fear.

Friday, November 14--Berlin Wall

For 28 years that wall has stood. 12 feet high and guarded by soviet soldiers, I have never managed to see the other side of my own city. I fought in World War 2 when I was hardly out of my teens, forced into service by Hitler's cruel regime. If that wasn't enough, I surrendered to the wrong side. I should have headed west, because the Americans actually treat their prisoners like human beings. Since the Soviets knew that I was a soldier, they threw me in a labor camp for many years. I'm not ever sure on how many. By the time they let me out, the wall had gone up, and I've barely managed to keep myself fed ever since. All of my friends and family are on the far side of the wall; my younger brother and two sisters. I'm not sure if my parents are still alive; this is how little news it allowed past the guards. My name is Niclas, and today is they day that the wall is coming down.
Though the days of my youth are far behind me, and my strength is starting to fail, it gives me hope that the communist power in Eastern Berlin is starting to fade as well. A handful of the checkpoints between the two cities are rumored to be open. It is said that the government has announced that we can now travel between the two sectors as we see fit.  Now, as we have been doing for the past two months, me and thousands of others are going to march on the wall, but I feel like tonight will be different than all the others.
"DIE Mauer muss weg!" We shout. "Away with the wall! Away with the wall!" There are so many of us, that the guards are afraid. They do not fire their weapons. It is almost like they are just as happy as us to see the wall finally come crashing down. Many of us brought hammers and axes and other heavy tools. Still chanting, we attack the concrete, hacking off chunks at a time. I was given a sledgehammer from one of my neighbors, and I hit the wall with all of my strength. "That one's for Germany!" There is a crack, so I strike it again. "That one's for Berlin!" Small slivers of stone fly in all directions. I rear back with both hands and swing the hammer around for the final time. "That one's for my family!" There is a soft boom, and the whole section of the wall comes crashing down.
Immediately, a thong of people push through from both sides, many crying with joy. I see many families and friends reunited, and even though I have not spotted my own, it makes my heart soar. I have not ever seen so much happiness in all of my life. That night, I believe I saw the best in humanity.

I begin the hunt for my family. It is hard, with thousands of others in every direction I look. But fate must have guided me, because I almost stumble upon not only my siblings, but also my mother! They all look much younger and healthier than I, and I cannot express in words what that reunion meant to me. I hugged and kissed my family for so long, that it felt as if the world had finally stood still to allow me some peace. It was glorious, and I never knew that someone could experience such pure joy before that night. The night the wall came down was the best of my life, giving me the chance to see the family that I could only dream about for so long.

Thursday, November 13--Macabre Art

What do I see in this delightful example of art? Well, kittens and butterflies and happy little children of course. And when I say that, I mean of course not. Actually, I don't think this should be considered Macabre at all, personally. Why? Because I think this image was made to be real representation of something, not just the product of an artist's nightmares.
How is this real? Well, I'm glad you asked. This painting captures the final moments of the starved, beaten, and horribly suffering prisoners of the holocaust. Yes, this is a gas chamber.
Brutal soldiers, people who can hardly be called human, shove their most worthless and tired prisoners into the chamber. They are naked, sick, and almost starved to death. They know the end had come, but there is nothing that they can do about it. They're packed into the concrete bunker like sardines, with barely enough room to stand or turn around. Then the gas is turned on; you can see the fumes clearly in the painting, filling the entire room, while the occupants choke and gasp for air, using whatever oxygen they have left to cry out and beg their captures for mercy, for release. But this is to no avail; their endless suffering is finally ended when the gas squeezes the last of their lives out of their broken bodies. This painting is a mere snapshot of this, the final, painful end to months or even years of the most horrible suffering in the hands of the Nazis.
In my opinion, this is really twisted Macabre, because this was a real fate of 12 million people.

Wednesday, November 12--Haunted House

The quiet little town of Kadoka, South Dakota, was thrown out somewhere in the countryside, founded by people who clearly did not like social interaction. Just like every other small town in the middle of nowhere, Kadoka had its secrets. And in this particular case, the secret was a haunted house. This wasn't some creepy mansion at the end of the street that no one had lived in for a few years; oh no, this was probably the most infamous place in the whole county. Everyone knew the place was haunted, and the sheer creepiness of the place had driven half of the towns population away. Those that remained stayed way clear of the place, leaving the House, as it had come to be called, on one side of town all by itself. 

But just like every small town with a haunted house, there was a group of high school kids who had nothing else better to do than go out and try to get in trouble. It really wasn't all that hard, since there wasn't anyone around to stop them. So one night, this group of five friends, consisting of a Josh, Tim, Sarah, Hannah, and DeTroy Notagenericname decided to go and visit the one place, the one taboo, in their community: the House. 

Only Sarah really protested to this idea, saying, "Wasn't that the home of that cat serial killer? I don't want to go inside there." Everyone in town still shivered at it's worst criminal. The Cat Killer had kidnapped almost every domestic cat in the county and had taken them back to his house. None of the little felines were ever seen again. 

But of course, the group went anyway, completely ignoring the sensible advise that Sarah gave. She decided that she should come along as well, since they would need her as a voice of reason. 

They all arrived at the house around midnight. There was no moon, nor any streetlamps in either direction. The house was merely a shadow smeared on an already black canvas. Now, as all generic horror story teenagers do, they all (except Sarah) took out some cigarette lighters to help find their way. DeTroy, being the boldest of them all, sprang up the front porch and rang the old doorbell. Instead of the simple ding-dong, there was a gong sound that shook the floorboards of the porch.

"Yo, I don't think this is a good idea," Tim said, his nerve failing him. The gong sound persisted, and he almost wet his pants when the door slammed open. 

The stench of the house almost overwhelmed the group at first, but they tosses all of their logic, reasoning, and good sense out the door as they went in. Hannah tripped in the foyer, feeling the soft floor. "Guys, the floor feels really soft. The Cat Killer must have had a good sense in carpet. 

Josh lowered his lighter to the ground, saying, "Yeah, if that includes the pelts of every cat in the town."

Sarah, Hannah, and Tim all screamed and hopped up and down, none of them wanting to touch the floor. 

"You know what would be more fun than exploring this place?" DeTroy said. "Burning this creepy place down."

They all quickly agreed when a few cat skulls rolled down the stairs. They scrambled out of the house and back to the street. Now, however, it was filled with light, for a terrifying ghost head hovered over the house. "Its the Cat Killer!" Tim cried.

"What do you want with us? We don't have any cats or money, but we have women!" Josh cried up to the spirit. 

"Hey!" Cried the girls, but they were ignored.

"I heard that you were going to burn down my house," the ghost said in a whimpering voice. "That's arson, and if you do, I will sue you for everything your parents own!"

"But you're dead! How are you going to hire an attorney?" DeTroy challenged. 

"But, it wouldn't be falling the horror story code! You all enter, die one by one due to your race or social class, and one of you, probably the voice of reason, will make it out alive but will be deemed crazy by society!"

"But why would we ever do that?"

"Because if you don't, then I'll be sure to tell everyone that you're a bunch of losers! You guys want to be cool, don't you?"

"I guess we can't argue with that," Josh said as he, DeTroy, Tim, and Hannah all went inside. Sarah decided that it would be a good time to run. But she tripped and fell down a manhole, so she was never seen again either, because the four teens who went inside surely died some horrible and gory death, but since this story is already long as crap I won't be going into detail. Use your imagination. 

I lied. That's Sarah stumbling into town the next morning. 

Have a good day.