Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Life is a Game.

It was happening again.

Somehow they always knew where I was hiding.

But it is no use complaining. So I grab my pistol and extra ammo and carefully shoot the first snipes to pop their head over the wall.

Then rolling to my feet, I dash through the short maze, killing snipes as I go to make my way to the larger weapons cache. I will need a bigger gun soon if things keep going the way they have before.

"Come an get it!" I yell as I slaughter the beast that tries to bar my way. And then I duck behind some barrels to reload.

Once upon a time, I didn't have to go to war with creatures that belong in a nightmare.
A living nightmare, that's what this was.
But that time is harder and harder to remember. Now this seems to be my life. And feeling sorry for myself, here behind the barrels, will more than likely get me killed.

Rain starts to fall as I enter the next maze that will lead me out of this trap.

As I push through the hedge with my big gun leading the way, my vision blurs for a second. Like rain writing letters before my eyes.

I wipe away the rain, and I hear a gun firing off to my left.

A human gun.

There is someone else here fighting the snipes.

Its odd, but this makes me feel better. Misery loves company as you know.

And there is that odd blur again. This time it seems to spell, "Player 2 has entered the game."

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Garage Sale Meetings

So I'm not sure if this is really creepy, or kinda cool. But it looks like my family is stalking Kiersten White. (Who is now a famous person after publishing her new book, Paranormalcy)

I mean what would you call someone who goes to a book signing to get a book signed for their daughter after following the new authors blog for almost 3 years. And then discovers that Their daughter's geoghraphy teacher is the sister of one of Kiersten's best friends.

Then just yesterday, my wife goes out to garage sales and encounters a young man selling his older sister's Dragon Lance book collection. And he says, "Yeah, these were my older sisters. She's a published author now." And you guessed it, we now own a bag full of Kiersten's old books.

By the way, Kiersten takes good care of her books, they are like new.

And my daughter is thrilled. She loved Paranormalcy, and can't wait to get the next book in the series. In the mean time she will be reading the books that Kiersten read before she was famous.

Sunday, September 19, 2010


Definition: Danger, Risk.

"The first thing that you should know is that the Periculum was not found or discovered. It was created. The second thing is that it is not the only one if its kind. So really referring to it as "The" Periculum is inaccurate. Its more along the lines of this Periculum.

This is important to know because its possible to encounter others. And they don't cancel each other out. When there are two or more Periculums they have a way of combining in unusual ways. Its one of the ways that they are what they are.

The next thing that you need to know is that a person can only have the Periculum once. Once they have lost it, or given it to another, they can never take it back. We have passed it down from father to son carefully. It is part of our service to the city. It helps keep the city strong, and helps to preserve the piece and prosperity of our people.

It is time for the Periculum to pass to you. Do not ever let it out of your possession until it is time to pass it on to another. Remember what I have said, my son. Remember what I have taught you."

At these words my father held out his hand. At first it was empty. But then the flesh of his palm seemed to ripple like water. And then there was a large beautiful jewel resting in his hand.

As I took it from him he let out a sigh. Not a sigh of death or anything morbid like that, but a sigh like one would give when a long worn boot is removed gently from ones foot.

I knew that the Periculum was not really a jewel. That was just a caporial representation. It seemed to tingle in my hand. I knew that I needed to be by myself. But I didn't want to leave my father as if I was anxious to take a gift ungratefully. My father smiled and I couldn't help but think he looked smaller than he had a moment a ago.

"Go." He breathed. "Go and get acquainted with it. There is time to come back and say your good byes."

I smiled back and gave his had a squeeze with my other hand and then left him to go to the room next door. I closed the door, and then carefully not to lose contact with the jewel, unlaced my tunic. It was a bit cold, standing their, but this is how it had been explained to me.

Then holding the Periculum in both hands, I let it melt into my skin.

It was an odd sensation. A warming sensation. And it spread over my flesh like water.

I had been training and working with the guard for years. And I had the scars to prove it. But as the Periculum became mine, I watched years old scars vanish.

I had learned to use all the weapons that defended the city. And to fight in hand to hand combat. No one would want to practice with me again. Odd things would happen in combat from now one. The Periculum would not care about practice. It would effect things like the random toss of a coin if it determined that there was something about the outcome that would make a difference.

Now that is inaccurate again. Periculum didn't make calculations, or determinations. It didn't think and could not be reasoned with. It was like a wind flying in the face of chance. The wind didn't have motives, and couldn't be reasoned with. But it did effect the environment.

After a few moments the feeling of wellbeing began to feel normal. Or at least less unusual. I laced up my tunic again. Not that I had felt cold, mostly out of habit, and returned to may father. He wasn't on deaths door. But his long life had finally reached the point where he could no longer server the city as he once had even with the Periculum. But now that he had passed it on, he would age more quickly, and I wanted to speak with him while the time remained.

And tomorrow, it would be time to start my service to the city.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Where do Idiots come from.

I was asked this question by a frustrated co-worker. "Roy, why are there so many idiots in the world today?"

I was asked this in jest, but I responded without even thinking. "Because medical science has progressed to the point where we no longer allow natural selection to play its role in society."

This response got a lot of laughs, but in a way, we have painted ourselves in a corner.

I am not talking about treating illness. I am talking about treating people who choose to skateboard, at night, on the public roads, wearing all black, as if the rest of us should protect them. From themselves.

Or people that take up juggling chainsaws as a profession.

Or even people that choose to smoke, not wear a seat belt, or use a crosswalk, or a thousand other things.

Now I am not about to prevent any of these activities. But I think that if have been warned of the dangers of juggling chainsaws, and then do it anyway. When you cut your arm off, we don't get excited or spend resources trying to keep you alive.

Placeing a medical sheild inbetween people and the consequences of their actions is bad for us. Placing a legal shield there is also bacd. It is bad for you, and me and all of our neighbors.

Now to extend this even farther. We have created two types of people. The first type is the type we have had all along. They are like the farmers that work the land, produce food and solve an unbelievable number of problems with bailing wire and duck-tape.

These are practical problem solvers. They are the survivors. (not because they don't get voted off the island.) They are the tool makers.

Then there is this new type of person. This is not the type that have to be told what to do and are the uncreative laborer. This is the hyper-educated person that has trouble figuring how to get two quarts of water into the little pack of cool-aid.

This type of person has an area of genius, but has major deficits in their practical ability to use a twist tie.

In the natural world, these people would not have survived.

Today, they live in big cities and eat packaged and prepared food. They own homes where they oven is clean like new because they have never prepared food in it. And the tools that bring them their food, (guns, knives, trucks and trains) are evil killers and polluters.

They don't seem to realize that milk does not come in bottles and salads don't come in sealed bags. They don't think about the farmers and ranchers and others that create all of the wealth of food and resources. And without these, the second type dies.

I had a friend tell me that "famous last words" were, "Hey y'all. Wath this." said right before doing something stupid. But sadly these are no longer "last words" like they used to be. Instead the person is rushed to the ER and goes out to vie for YouTube fame all over again.

And humanity is all the weaker for it.