Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Chapter Two: Fear & Gripping Grendel. (In part, 2)

-The loss of control yields fear. Ironically, one never had control; one never had control of anything! The control to take a breath, or to keep the atmosphere balanced, or to ignore gravity require a skill set that humans simply do not possess. One little cog in the human condition has ‘total lack of control’ inscribed on it, part number 3-5498-726. Yet, just as the little boy on the bike, people delude ourselves into thinking, “I have it in my pocket!” or “I’ve got the world on a string,” like uncle Frank, only to realize gravity effects them just as much as the next fellow. So, the loss of control is not exactly the fact of the matter or the concern at hans; it is the loss of perceived control, the counted loss of something that never existed. Generally, losing something that one never really had is not such a difficult reality. Yet, the natural man’s mind is so bent that perceived control has convinced the mind that it is actually real control. The weight of resulting loss feels equally real. Perhaps the human machine has deposits of grease and grime; perhaps some of the inscriptions are covered and cannot be easily viewed?
-The natural laws are etched into the human heart. They can nearly be proven, though no need for this exists, by the appearance, usually largely by surprise, of the moral compass. It is the woman who takes no issue with a set of hot topic items such as abortion or gay marriage, but then gets particularly irate over marital infidelity. It is the fellow who takes no issue with infidelity while brooding towards rage relative to an acquitted child molester. It is said child molester angry with the government of stealing votes at the ballot boxes. The circle of injustice has looped on quietly for thousands of years, and the bar by which it is secretly measured remains the intrinsic inscriptions upon the human heart.
-The inscription of the law is not an inoculation though, the law is solely a prescription for health, yet like every patient, the gift of choosing a their own path is in the mankind’s hands. One chooses daily to follow the diagnosis or ignore the requirements. Each chosen day of willful disobedience will yield calluses. Substantial callusing is required to fully mask the inscriptions but even the slightest extra layer is enough to cause blurred vision.
-If one is astute of their surroundings, the more they seem to ‘put together’ relative to the world around them, the less they seemed to control or even understand, for they realize through failure that they really have nothing! The rock star found overdosed the in his bath-tub at the Four-Seasons Paris, the actress who jumps off the tower or the dictator who shoots his mistress and himself in the head deep beneath Berlin in a dank little bunker; they almost had the World in their pocket, or so they fooled the World into thinking. The World is too big for a pocket; it is too big for three or four pockets. Princess Leia once said, "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers." she pretty much nailed it.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Chapter Two: Fear & Gripping Grendel. (In part.)

-“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.” Lewis opens A Grief Observed with this sentiment, if one finds them self reading A Grief Observed, meaning, if one seeks out the book because of a need for it, chances are this line will fillet them. I too found grief akin to fear, but I would go further than Lewis. I would say that the primary manifestation of grief is fear. I was afraid.
-It was three months before I wrote anything. My time was consumed with reading, crying, thinking, replaying, justifying, rationalizing and a plethora of other half wasteful, half insightful oddities. Sleep generally came early; I begged its arrival and would settle into uneasy dreams who seemed to have lost the ability to create new material. The mornings providing work and the bittersweet distractions that earning a paycheck creates. It was acidic to be at work, but basic to be busy, it was sweet to get home but bitter to be alone, it was an ugly state of being, all the while I willfully elected to fuel the demise, for a time. After all, there was a lot of neat stuff to see doubled over with my head buried in the ground.
-Sam and Simon were best of friends. Being small boys, their world was both large and small at the same moment. It was large in the sense that they both understood that beyond the smoke covered mountains there were many, many miles, kilometers, fathoms, or whatever one fancies for measuring given sections of land-mass to be discovered. Conversely, their world was small because they made it such. The concept of how small they were was not lost on either of them, particularly Sam, or Samuel. Taking a wild world and cramming it into one’s pocket is not an easy task as one can well imagine. It must be done one day at a time, one spoonful of dirt by one spoonful of dirt. And, Sam and Simon did in point of fact dig in the dirt with spoons. There was a clay ditch across the street where the two of them spent a good deal of time developing a dense maze of traffic tunnels in the sticky, red wall. It looked much like a giant ant farm to the causal viewer, a shot of red surface with spaghetti thrown at it, sinking into the surface just far enough for a matchbox truck to amble along the edge of the precipitous ledge. It was a beautiful, miniature version of the Stremnaya Road in Bolivia, “The Highway of Death.” Though they were not self-aware enough, neither of them, to realize what they were doing, they did go out and make war on the wide World everyday. Determined to make it palatable, manageable; controllable.
-At this juncture a parallel story requires telling. Sam and Simon were raised in a community where status was based on BMX racing. More specifically, status was based on winning BMX races. Armed with a continually growing resolution to win they set about expanding the control of their destinies by practicing religiously. Simon was older, bigger, faster, and he was in a different age group, which was lucky for Samuel. That did not dissuade Simon from poking fun at Sam regarding his choice of starting location on the ‘Hill.’ The real racers all started from the crest of the Hill at the ‘starting gate,’ where from one would gather the most speed, and frankly it is illegal to start from any place else. There was one caveat to said starting Hill, at the bottom of that seemingly immense Hill, was a seemingly massive jump. Gravity is not pocket-sized.
-Upon sufficient berating, Sam pushed his bike from the preferred, middle of the Hill starting point, to the top of the Hill. It is a historical fact; sweaty palms were born on this day. He narrowed his eyes down the Hill, Simon’s prodding, “Eyes on the prize, Newbie!” ringing in his ears. He had borrowed Simon’s helmet for the occasion and it gave him some false sense of courage in his quest to slay the Hill. There were grand visions of racing down the precipice, flying off the jump, and turning his head as he soared through the air in slow motion locking eyes with Simon as he mouthed, “What’s up now?” He imagined the voice of the announcer calling out the starting position verbiage; his small heart beat loudly in his little world. There was a moment when the announcer in Samuel’s mind summoned him and the other 6 invisible racers, “go!” Hurtling down the Hill was pure ecstasy. The speed, the whirling, the rush of certain victory at hand resounded emphatically; his World was indeed small enough to fit into his pocket.
-Somewhere between the split second realization of how large the bottom of the Hill jump was and a rough calculation of speed to weight ration Sam’s briefly pocket sized World began to grow, rapidly. He nearly had had it all the way into his pocket…but inflation was as inevitable as his trajectory. There was a moment, Simon could attest, Sam left his bike, he was traveling though the air, but not majestically. The travel was that of a baby bird on its maiden voyage hitting every branch on the way down; that is precisely what he did.
-Three hours and ten stitches in his chin later, he found himself jumping rope after a dinner at Simon’s parents’ house. “Man, I can feel this weight tugging my chin down every time I hop, it is so weird. It is as if the world is trying to drag me down into itself, it’s heavy…” he thought quietly.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Chapter One: Starting at 'The End.' (In part, 4)


-Humans often find themselves searching for definition, that, “This is who I am,” a personalized Thesis Statement that will inform them of exactly who they are and what their major objective is for the next 60 or so years. A journal entry from four months after ‘day one’ paints this portrait, “I feel like I mostly only have questions. I am not thrilled with all questions. A few are okay, but answers go a long way.” There is an identity crisis here that is causing chaos in the mind. Questions abounded, answers have left a note on the shop door stating they’d be back at three, it is now half past four and there is no sign of them, the street is deserted, dark, damp and eerie.
-A cohesive recipe for success is a fool’s errand; yet this is not a reason to quit running the race. Hopefully, I had not set out on such a quest, to find the exact recipe, yet I was unsatisfied to merely quip, “Welp, that is that…what’s next?” Only quitters quit, age 26 was hardly the time to do so.
-Humans live in a world of perpetual paradox. If they eat food it will give them cancer, clog ateries, or make them obese, yet if they skip food for said safety reasons the results are equally and oppositely devastating. “Cars are killing the earth,” they hear, so public transport is used; only to deliver the rider to the office late, repeatedly, resulting in a loss of employment and the ensuing problems of being destitute.
-“Here is your cake, would you like to have it?”
-“Yes, please!”
-“Would you like to eat it?”

-“Yes, please!”
-“Well, do you want to have it or eat it? You can’t have both”
-The paradox list is endless, sit down and consider it objectively and honestly, nearly anything within life appears on it. Search for the paradoxical yang to the personal ying, generally speaking it is there, pretending not to see it will only delay the inevitable, ‘unplanning’ of “the wedding”.

-There are the ‘blessed fools’ in this universe that subscribe full-sail to the bliss of ignorance. They justify, “I needn’t know X, Y or Z” or “I needn’t accept X, Y, and Z” for a myriad of reasons. These fellows seem to find sleep at night, seem to find stomachs at ease, and pleasure in everything; I am not such a fellow. I was not blessed with the gift of “I don’t care.” “Care” is a bitter pill. It is actually a package deal, one can’t buy “care” in a white five-speed with a/c, but skip the leather seats because they get hot in the summer and are cold in the winter. “Care” is a hook, line and sink sort of business; it gets deep inside and when landed in the 16’ glittery, bass tracker on lake Wannawingo, “Care” rips your guts out leaving you a twitching little fish who swims for a little longer, tilted partially sideways. Why should the fisherman be concerned over one undersize bluegill, there are plenty of other fish in the lake, right?
-I had to ‘pop start’ us too often, my hand was no stranger to the emergency brake, I wouldn’t make excuses for her anymore, she was “over me,” her words failed and her behavior had made it transparent…my guts lay on the bottom of the bass tracker, thank goodness her hook was salvaged though. Imagine if she had lost that precious thing, they cost at least twenty or thirty cents a piece! The world was bobbing 45 degrees off true plane; my surety of control was suddenly and very lucidly a farce.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Chapter One: Starting at 'The End.' (In part, 3)


-‘Truths’ in life are always, always harder to accept and learn to “live harmoniously” with than lies, at least at the outset of the revelation. By harmoniously I mean, let them sink in, let them become a reality, begin to see the merit in them instead of ‘just dealing with them.’ Lies are easy, at the outset, due to this very natural law. Truth and lies are inversely proportional; Truth is tough going in the beginning and easier as time passes, lies are easy going at the beginning and grow unbearable as seconds grow up in to minutes who in turn age into hours. The knee jerk human reaction is to put one’s fingers in their ears and say, “LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!!!” this is not an effective way of dealing with problems in case there remains any confusion. Truth is Truth, acceptance and obedience to them is one option, the other option is pain and death; apologies to the post-modernist.
-A child standing in front of a bank of vending machines with one quarter is better suited to comprehend this complex of The Eros Dilemma than most learned scholars. It is very acute, and very difficult. It is a ‘simple to comprehend, but nearly impossible to make choice’ type of situation, “I can pick one of these treasures, or I can save my quarter because something better might come along when we get to K-Mart.?.?. I mean anyone of these ring pops would suffice, but what if K-Mart has super bouncy-balls? What if?” All that is left to do is accept the fact that there is one quarter, one crank of the chrome cross-handle, one opening of the plated trap door of goodness. But the human mind bends and bows for a way to have their cake and eat it too. When one has spent, ‘invested,’ a word I use gingerly, a great deal of time, emotion, money, dreams et al on an ideology, any ideology; romantic, bouncy-ball or otherwise, letting it wash down the stream of life, as a stick in the gutter of the street, is as difficult as swallowing a horse pill.
-Using the logic/intellect, balanced with approached objectivity, applied over a path of memories and history, juxtaposed with the a limited gift of discerment/prophesy, one, could begin to see as I had so often been told, “Yes, it is better, it really is…” even one so deluded as me at that time. Now, that nearly sounds like a formula; please do not malign my misguided thoughts as formulaic. Formulas have a place, they perform well in finding the distance a cannonball will fly if fired at a specific angle to the horizon, with a certain initial velocity, with such and such a wind condition, all within a vacuum, of course. Formulas perform well in vacuums, in the event that there remains any confusion, the earth is not a vacuum. ‘Theoretically’ is about the end of the use of ‘formula’ on this terrestrial ball; so check all formulas at the door, please. There is no exact formula to human life, there is only seeking, truly seeking, resulting in finding. What one does with the findings is a whole other story.
-Piecing together the history, the reasons or as many as I could find as to why we had failed was painful, it was truth so no less than pain was expected. The pain made it genuine, in as absolutely non-masochistic way as can be understood. Yet, the finding process challenges one’s self-worth, constantly. Allow one’s self to be defined by what other people think of them or more realistically the way that other people treat them, or even more realistically the way that other people mistreat them, which is the truest measure of value that one being holds for another, is wrong; plain and simple. If one subscribes to the theory of ‘what so and so thinks about me economics’ and chooses to establish their self-worth based upon another human’s, extremely dynamic opinion of them, prime conditions for heartache and sneaking, permeating untruths have been established. This deluded definition will, more than likely, lift the person just high enough so that when they fall, it does not simply smart; it shatters. It is a sad tale authored, mastered and propagated by a despondent, lonely monster, to yield more woe and destruction.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Chapter One: Starting at 'The End.' (In part, 2)


-Eventually, I couldn’t take the disappointment any longer. Perhaps disappointment is too large a word? I am wary of using words that that are too large for there utility, Jack Lewis taught me that. If I were to insert a better word, or a better string of words, it would look more like this, “The car usually worked, it usually ended up getting me to the destination, eventually, but there was a certitude in my mind that a better, more fluid solution existed, I had but to seek it, diligently.” I ceased to see the value in the lessons of, “Oh, so that is how a fuel pump works!” or “I bet this brown wire is supposed to be connected to that little bracket thing right there…” and desired a car that I could get in, turn the key, and drive to Hanny’s diner, day or night, no questions asked.
-Cars can be sold; wives cannot, at least not within my belief system. I selfishly, perhaps, wanted a car that loved me as much as I loved it; I think I felt same way about what I wanted in a wife.
-Yet, a valid counter argument could be made regarding this sentiment. After all, as aforesuggested I do subscribe to the ‘the two shall become one flesh’ school of thought. With that being said, I would love me, therefore I would love her, therefore she would love me. Maybe it is not such a selfish desire after all? It is not that I have said I wanted a car that loved me regardless of mistreatment; I said I wanted a car that would love me back. My shoulder just brushed against the thorny hedge of the ‘does unconditional love exist?’ question, I shall pass on the hedge cutting, after all I am wearing short sleeves. Maybe it is innate in the make-up of the human nature to seek this Eros, and all that it touches, be reciprocated? Maybe it is part of the natural law, perhaps?
-My “library” was actually the second bedroom of a two-bedroom condo that I bought for me and my former fiancé, Marie. I use the term ‘bought’ loosely as I would be paying for it for the next thirty years; it is strange how often one refers to a residence as “his house,” when in reality the bank owns it, and the bank is owned by the government and the government is owned by a group of Asian business men in Hong Kong.
-I entertained so few visitors in those days and procured so many books that a library seemed a better use for the space; a place of respite away from my normal world, the kitchen and living room, who were already deafeningly silent. The life of a celibate is one of ‘domestic silence.’ There is no sound of one puttering around in the adjacent room, no tapping of a foot on the floor, or laugh resulting from a Jane Austin quip. There were sounds mind you, but they an amalgam of sirens leaking through the vinyl double-hungs, drunk bar-goers struggling home still finishing their last call beverage, and the creaks of the old, abraded floor. But those sounds were not mine, Neil Diamond would agree with me, that song belonged to everyone. My song was now silent, it was sort of my own little version of Spinal Taps’, “It goes to eleven!” but conversely mine went to eleven; quiet.
-We had spent months planning an October wedding, and unplanned the same wedding a week before the nuptials during a less than delightful ‘conversation’ on a more than delightful Saturday. There was no single straw what broke the camel’s back, straw is manageable. Yet, there was a time when one plus a million equaled too much and better senses prevail. “Better senses” is again a poor choice of words; it is far too small and requires expounding, which is my intention.
-“It is better this way,” how many times had I heard that ‘encouragement?’ Too many to count; oddly enough I believed it, not out of bitterness mind you, from day one. Day one being the ‘unplanning’ Saturday or sometime slightly before that warm, otherwise sublime, afternoon. The idea of, “This {marriage to be} is a messed-up state of affairs which will only get worse, and walking down this path really should not be continued,” was not revolutionary to me, yet by the same token, it was an immensely difficult Truth to come to terms with.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Chapter One: Starting at 'The End.' (In part)

(Ed. note: With difficulty I have divided the text where I have such that mouthful sized bits can be served. I have come under some reproach, good reproach mind you, regarding post length. This selection represents only the first portion of draft two's first chapter in an effort to avoid excessive yawning, as I know is your custom.)

Chapter One: Starting at ‘The End.’

-When I was fifteen I gave $2,200 to an old woman in Milwaukee; she gave me a 1966 Volkswagen Beetle. Her son had purchased it new, driven it a short time then given it to her when he left for Vietnam. Vietnam in the mid-sixties was nasty, I saw Deer Hunter and that wasn’t even the half of it, poor kid. She had carted groceries with it for another twenty odd years before a brake line decided it was sick of the constant pressure and broke. Three years before we exchanged goods, she had deposited him in the carport, left for dead. Needless to say, but I will say it because that is our method of speaking; the car was in a sad state of affairs. It could have easily been mistaken for the barn abandoned Herbie, as I recall it was frowning slightly and the wheels had that sad sort of outward cant, a telltale sign of clinical-auto depression. I on the other hand had wanted a Beetle for time out of mind and was giddy beyond words. We collected the Beetle with a trailer borrowed from someone that escapes my mind and brought it home to a receptive garage full of tools. We, my dad and I, lovingly worked through that dejected little machine. The motor was on the floor in the corner awaiting a new clutch and re-install, the interior was strewn about the shop, there was a pile of glass what had been and would again be my wind screens, $2,000 worth of boxes crammed with new parts sat in a queue waiting to be assigned respective roles, and heaps of old, oxidized metal said teary farewells under the cover of darkness to their longtime Bavarian master.
-We developed a relationship in those few months. We spoke often, between sanding the hood a fourth time and mounting new tires, I’d chatter about the times ahead and how things would be one day when we’d be found cruising along with little more to do that just be. The AM radio would play big band music through the one tiny speaker on the left end of the dash, all would be well, happiness would be had at a comfortable 55 miles per hour. He rarely offered much above a scrapping shutter or peal of pain while I ground out his cancerous rust, but there was a connection of some kind, at least I thought we were on the same page. In a short time the car was stripped, patched, repaired, and renewed.

-I was elated. I drove that car for six months before I sold it.
-Wait, what? Six months?

-Yes, six months.

-There was no major melt down, it never exploded or the like, it simply required me to park in slightly down hill conditions because the 6-volt electrical system was rarely enough to start it, it simply left me broken down at the side of the road time and again, often in the rain or snow, it simply required me to use the emergency brake on multiple occasions due to massive brake failure, it simply…yeah, that. All the while I would wash him, and vacuum him, change his oil religiously, and protect him from any foul element be it nature or man. Through all of this, the dynamic remained, though was increasingly one sided. If I was not at an appointment on time, chances are the lower half of my body could be found halfway ingested by the bonnet of a white VW on a blue road somewhere between my parents’ house, and the meeting place.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009


I have been on a bit of break, and will continue to be on a break for a bit longer.
I am sorry; for the present I will continue writing but it will be done with the doors closed.
Email me if you are curious.
Thank you few for the thoughts.


Sunday, April 19, 2009

Regarding Government Mandated Abortion. (in short)

Not long ago there was an accountant who operated a small storefront business. Now during a particular ‘intake appointment’ with a perspective client, the client explained to that he would require the accountant, through financial manipulations, to commit financial wrongs of the greatest proportion. Aforementioned wrongs not only went against the accountant’s creed sworn as a professional of his Province; these wrongs also went against the moral conscience instilled in him by ‘A Higher Power’ as he called it. What is the accountant to do? Is he to fulfill the wishes of his client or is he to obey the undeniable, intrinsic moral direction?
In another instance there was a lawyer, a practitioner, a keep of the law. He met with his client to discuss how they would go about defending his case. The client defiantly stated, “Look, I killed that man in cold blood, it is not a matter of what I did. It is a matter of you doing your job and keeping me out of the hot seat!’ This lawyer was not a God-fearing man, but he knew the laws of his country and he knew that murder was a capital offense. What is the lawyer to do? Is he to fulfill the wishes of his client or is he to uphold the laws of the land that he understands with absolute lucidity?
In both of these cases you have a professional who is asked to perform a duty that is ‘wrong’, even to a child. The subjects are faced with a decision regarding right and wrong. In life absolute right and wrong, matters absolutely, but one must understand that that topic will spend too much paper and ink. Suffice it to say that within this context, the right and wrong of a personal obligation is the Trump card. In the end of it all, each person will be responsible for their own actions and will receive in themselves there due penalty for said actions.
If one accepts the concept that one is to do whatever their job requires and be done with it, this entire train of thought can be finished. Close the page.

Alternatively, if one considers the life they have lived, recalling instances where they have been faced with right and wrong only to choose wrong, and were subsequently haunted by said action, our conversation must continue.

At this moment one much choose what heart they posses. Does their heart justify their wrong doing by its own value, or does their heart understand there is a right and there is a wrong that overrule the role of such and such a temporal vocation? Or perhaps there is a higher power that overrules every decree of man? A choice exist for both the deist and the humanist, the only position any individual cannot maintain on the wrong versus right debate is to ‘not have one’.

Now, if the concept of 'there is a right thing to do’ has been accepted, one must push forward, make further discoveries. Said moral conflict is magnified when one recalls specific, personal experiences where they were placed at a juncture by a secondary party and were forced to make a decision. As a rule, making the ‘right choice’ is generally more painful at the outset than the ‘wrong choice’. But, and herein lies the crux of this text, the person IS given a choice, they are offered a wrong and a right path as it relates to their personal freewill, whether that will is guided by humanism or by faith. Thankfully, even in such a secular humanist society as the world of today, this concept of freedom to choose ‘what is right for you’ is fiercely protected…or is it?

(Writer’s Note: 1.21 million abortions were performed in the US alone in 2005, rough 3,300 a day. Meanwhile, 3,434 in combat fatalities have been reported in the war on terror as of 01.26.08., roughly 1.34 a day.)

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Waiting To Be Used (Filed Under: Documents>Thoughts>Scraps)

There was a massive white room, I can only assume it was a room because I could not see the sun and everything was far too white and smooth for it to have been an exterior, in which sat a man on a chair. There were no walls to be seen and the space was devoid of a ceiling. A shiny white ribbon of floor stretched out in every direction and the air was uniformly, gleaming white. The only variation in the visual value was due to the vignetting of my eye, a sliver darker at the corners. I invested a good deal of time in making sure that this was no trick of the room, it wasn’t. The room stood in perfection. The only fault within the space was myself; of this I was keenly aware. There was never a sunrise or a sunset, seasons were absent…it was one perfect moment in time; but unlike anything I had ever encountered, it was frozen. Perhaps it was an infinite series of perfect moments standing in a row, but my wanting brain was stretch too thin already; such a concept would certainly have burst it.

The chair was a very ordinary chair by the unspoken standards of the room, yet I desired it madly. It was the chair of greatest portion. The man sitting in it did not seem to possess any particularly obvious reason for having such a divine seating appointment, at least not at my first glance. Yet there was something that was not all-together plain about him. His face was placid. His eyes were exceedingly clear. And though his lips never ceased to hold there ever so slightly set smile, it was clear that lucid wisdom would flow forth if he ever broke his silence. I am not sure how I knew this, I simply did. The room had a way of slipping things into your head, unbeknownst to you, but their factuality was certain. He held himself in a way of respect, but not in as you see soldiers who crave attention, his objective was not attention. For all the circling, poking, prodding and whatnot that I did, he never took the slightest notice of me. I was fascinated. He was becoming less ordinary, far less ordinary. My desire for his seat was ever growing.

Time was as useful there as drink or food. I had not seen either of the ladder two since my arrival eons ago. My preoccupation with the seat grew. “When is he going to leave?” I asked myself time an again. The waiting was unbearable.

Finally, I stood directly before him, “What are you waiting for?!?” I shouted.

“To be used.” he replied.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Weight of Glory: (in very short)

The premise is this, there is often a selfish feeling that through a hard event in one’s life, not of their causing, God will “teach” the one who perpetrated the offense against them “a good lesson through this”. One needn’t look far to see the human mind working overtime to stretch their logic around God’s, and once again we see the thread worn seams break open. The concept of “bad things don’t happen to good people” has been widely propagated and is far from biblical, with supporting reference after reference after reference. The alignment of the natural man’s mind is such that his economy and God’s have about as much in common as the act of falling and the act of flying. Both instances involve a body, one body who is whole and one body who is mere moments from being broken into many irreparable pieces. In said misalignment, there are certainties; success is not a listed outcome. Perhaps I must take a few steps backwards in order to take one step forward?


“But a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised.”[i]

In setting a stage one requires a few key elements; our stage will be set through 1Corinthians 2:14 lens. There is a man, a natural man; his mind set could be referred to as ‘the crux’ of the passage. In this very thought process a brilliant concept is illustrated, firstly in the fact that as men they instinctively think it is about them, secondly it is not about him but he is limited in grasping this in several capacities.

According to Unger the natural man is, “…the unbeliever, who does not possess the Spirit (Jude 19)…”[ii] Unger’s choice to follow his surprisingly brief explanation of the natural man by referencing Jude 19 presents a very particular point in a very round about sort of way. The effort of Jude 19 is to warn people of the shape of the future. ““In the last time there shall be mockers, following after their own ungodly lusts.” These are the ones who cause divisions, worldly-minded, devoid of the Spirit.”[iii] Now at least one pointed question remains which Unger has yet to answer. What is to be made of ‘christians’ who behave as the picture Jude has painted? It is a menacing question that will not be properly sorted at present, but the seed of thought is required to properly cultivate one’s mind for considerations in Glory’s Weight as well as the state of man and his position to understand and accept said Weight. Suffice it to say, the natural man may well be the one’s ‘un-churched’ neighbor, yet it is plausible that the natural man is not as simple as the Joe average heathen on the street, more than likely an alarmingly large number of natural men attend church every Sunday, there are even a few who sing in the choir.

With a vague notion of who he is, let us now consider his ability to ‘understand,’ that is, his ability to discern the wisdom of God such as in Ephesians 4:18, Philippians 1:9, Colossians 1:9, Colossians 2:2-3, & Titus 1:1. It would seem the term ‘understanding’ is larger than one understanding that the light switch turns the wall sconce on and off; it is more akin to the electrical engineer’s mindset when he flips a light switch. Granted, the engineer does not sit and process through the entire set of reactions, one electron bumping into another and so on, each time he flips a switch, but he does understand, on a far deeper level than most, what is happening and why. It has been revealed to him. Reconsidered on a more particular level, the natural man’s understanding is of the Earth.[iv] As he receives and processes information he has but one lens to view it through, one mill to grind it with, which is the mortise of Earth. The fallen man will judge, after all what is perception if not a form of judgment, through all that he knows, “this small blue and green ball, spinning through its endless void”.

Now, not only has it not been or been revealed to him; but he has in turn accepted or rejected it. It is quite understandable for a natural man to reject something that he does not understand, therefore the inclusion of “a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God” is doubtfully, actually, directed at the natural man. Potentially, this bridges a gap we have previously only gawked at; perhaps the statement of non-acceptance is not directed at the natural man? Now there’s a thought… A tenable argument could be made for it being directed at those who have sampled the understanding, who have learned some chapter of wisdom only to determine, “that is surely not my cup of tea, far too much losing of myself involved in that, it is fine for you Jack my boy, but for my money, I will stick with what I know. What’s that you say? Yes, fine, I will indulge you by pretending to ‘know’ what you ‘know’, but deep inside I find it a load of childish stories and far-fetched madness propagated by a lot of pompous do-gooders, war mongering demagogues and the like.” Perhaps, now be patient it is a working title; this is the, “The Modern ‘christian’ Man”.

Where a lack of desire for communion with God pervades, no communion with God will exist.

“For the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace, because the mind set on the flesh is hostile towards God; for it does not subject itself to the law of God, for it is not even able to do so; and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”[v]


In reviewing Glory and its Weight the Christian must bear these mentioned conditions in mind. The natural man lives in a continuous state of delusion, a life governed by complete lack of truth is no life at all, it is mere chaos. Christians far too often find themselves grabbing at the life Jack was willing to give up, their idols are generally too dear to give up, or give up for long. In doing so, in loving idols, one will lose alignment with Truth, Wisdom, Understanding and Discernment, understandably for they are in complete disobedience with the greatest commandment. With the compass no longer pointing north things seem to become ‘easier’ but in time one finds they have become ever more difficult, truly difficult. The bent economy of the natural man slips back into the mind of the Christian much more subtly than most sins. A Christian realizes they are stumbling when they wake up Saturday morning in a pool of their own vomit, but the same Christian would not think twice about said gradual misalignment. The prince of the air dresses as an angle of light and is very cunning, this needs to be noted time and again.[vi]

To put skin on said misalignment, let one again visit with the wronged individual from the inception of this text. He stands with a misaligned heart, he stamps his foot on the ground, or in a worse case folds his hands, closes his eyes and prays aloud, “Oh God, I hope that You teach them a lesson for hurting me!” The second man, the Christian,[vii] he is not of this earth, he is of heaven and this is commanded to act as such and will act as such for fear of losing the one thing which he holds above all, his communion with his Maker.


The second man is a blessed man. The promises he owns are beyond all expectations of the natural man.

“Therefore we do no lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all caparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”[viii]

The second man understands he is blessed to be afflicted; he understands that in such moments his Maker is showing him an extra portion of Love. His Lord is taking a specific interest in the refinement of his and His being. He, the Maker, is producing the eternal weight of glory. One should notice, very near the last thought on the second man’s mind is “I hope that he (the wrong doer) is getting his!” the second man hasn’t time to be occupied with such natural things, he is far too busy being purified and produced!

“Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life, which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.”[ix]

Said crown has often been considered a prize given in the after life to those who have walked righteously, which no doubt is true. Yet, is it at all possible that the Maker gives us ‘crowns’ even as we walk about this fallen earth? It seems quite a valid conjecture given the process of sanctification and a lifetime of gleaned spiritual wisdom.


(On a far more personal note: I know this man well. I know that one who has sought God’s vengeance on those who’ve ‘wronged him’. I also know that in his times of ‘being wronged’ LG has revealed Himself to him in ways he never before was open to; LG humbled him through ‘being hurt’, drew him in, comforted him, refined him, and produced a better, less natural man. When asking LG for refinement, one generally gets ‘more than they bargained for’, which they grumble about at the outset, but later value over all other treasures. Little by little, this man in who is hopefully truly in process, begins to approach hardship with a more aligned perspective. He begins to grumble less, be thankful more, and seek wisdom in the process, the time commonly known as ‘hard times’. As an earthly ‘crown’ he finds himself blessed beyond all measure that he is found worthy of LG to be used as an instrument for ministering to those around him who are in need.)

[i] 1 Corinthians 2.14 New American Standard Bible.

[ii] Merril Unger, Unger’s Bible Handbook (Chicago: Moody Press, 1966), 628.

[iii] Jude 18 New American Standard Bible.

[iv] 1 Corinthians 15.47 New American Standard Bible.

[v] Romans 8.6 New American Standard Bible.

[vi] 2 Corinthians 11.14 New American Standard Bible.

[vii] 1 Corinthians 15:47 New American Standard Bible.

[viii] 2 Corinthians 4.16-19 New American Standard Bible.

[ix] James 1.12 New American Standard Bible.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Simple Story. (in short)

“For what it is worth, I truly did love you,” he forced his flooded eyes away from her as he offered her these final words. He stood empty, feeling like an honest man before a jury whose sentence would surely be one of death. She responded indirectly, yet direct way by walking away, getting in her car and driving off without a word, gesture or glance back. It was the end.

Not the end, another end. Simple stood hands hanging limply at his sides. Through the haze of the street lamp he watching the taillights fade into the October night. He told himself she would not turn around, she would not be seen coming back white lit this time in place of red. He told himself to just let it die, let the last gasps of air escape the lungs and the spirit soar into the life beyond; yet self would not listen, self hoped beyond all logic for twin, white lanterns to mark the rebirth. The lanterns never came.

In his mind’s eye Simple was as plain a man as the next man on the morning train. He knew that each ageing character surround him carried shadows behind their eyes, dark trunks of un-sorting items and other maladies; everyone does. Simple was no different than anyone else. Simple had had ends just as stubby little accountant that sat across the aisle from him day in and day out had had ends. Simple had scars no deeper than the beautiful ‘aspiring model/secretary’ that sat in front of him each Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday as he returned to his flat. Simple was the quintessential man.

Looking back now I think it was this archetypal quality about Simple that first struck me when we met; or that and the fact that he was my roommate, my slightly ‘square-ish’, roommate. We were both students in secondary school, and I say ‘think’ because at the time I had not the presence of mind to put my finger on the draw. I knew we were agreeable, luckily, and that was sufficient. He was nondescript, did not need a crowd, did not even like crowds. He always took his women one at a time if he was invested in one at all. If ever I could drag him to a party he was generally found in the corner, nursing a drink, discussing something that I found altogether disinteresting with an individual I generally had never even taken heed of. My continued attempts to pull him towards the limelight, where I lived, “to show the world what I see in you” were always met by him looking at the floor, drawing circles with his big toe whilst shrugging his shoulders. “Simple, Simple, Simple…But there will be girls there!” I used to say in exasperation. It seemed a book or a paper generally stole his attention away from the more beautiful persuasions I ceaselessly chased. Yet, he was my mate, my best mate.


Sunday, April 5, 2009

Methodology of Fictional Worlds and Their Discovery. (in short)

The problem is this.

When I sit at my desk and set about to put down some sort of fictional bit of never-mind, I can rarely find where to start. There is always a time before the time where I start, and this time before always seems so vital to the whole. For example in the case of The Princess: I have yet to establish where this kingdom really is, where is the queen, when is this, what language do they speak, what is the shape of this people group, what is the work they attend to, are they at peace, etc? I mean, how can a story be put down properly without a history, yet when does (or should) the history start? You see now how Lewis had to start his worlds in the Wood, you see how The Silmarillion takes shape…they had to be born for the rest of it to exist.

The myth was actually fact; in myth, fact is merely a matter of viewpoint. (Within the context of the construct)

The logical question, logical to me at least, is how do I get there? I know that it, the history of this myth’s world, already exists; the map has simply to be recovered

What will my methodology look like for discovering this lost civilization? Do I start with a history and write forward, or do I do what I am more inclined to do, create a story and postrationalize a history? By postrationalize I mean, write the past, based on the now.

If I opt for postrationalization as my method, the later date main point story is difficult to construct because it is a house built upon sand. Yet building a cold-start history for a world is something I do not believe is within my skill set upon a multitude of fronts. I haven’t the linguistic background, the sociological concepts or world experience to attempt such a climb. (Or potentially I am just frightened to venture into it…?)

Perhaps a highbred exists. Begin the construction of the myth…when presented with an enigmatic portion of the journey, discover the required history to inform the story.
-Does history dictate a myth?
-I think not…or should I say, ‘I think it needn’t, yet it more than likely will, for all we have, we have learned from history, therefore, it will intrinsically sculpt the myth.’ Therefore, I think it will, regardless of whether it should or should not. After all, most ‘Great Stories’ are merely thinly veiled recreations of Real Actual World History.
-How is history to help said issues for the characters?
-I don’t know exactly…but perhaps I can find it or perhaps it is as simple as myth tellers of older days who again, thinly veiled the successes and failures of thinly veiled Historical Characters?

I have always held that storytelling is in the making. One does not sit down with a clear vision of the events, outcomes, and finale of the story…not in a true story leastwise. (In my not humble enough opinion) When one is dreaming…do they get a memo prior to departure into the dream that tells them of the outcome? When one is born are they issued a syllabus informing them that they will be nominated chair of American Literature at Yale. Which will undoubtedly lead them to live a celebratory life that could potentially involve being hit by a bus while stagger home in a drunken stupor only to completely negate the original syllabus…thus a paradox is revealed, but I digress.
Why do we assume that the story will be clear at the outset? Why do we assume that we will not go through valleys as dark and triumphs as grand as our companions? We shouldst. It has been said we create because we wish to be little gods, I find this not only heretical but a dangerous ground to venture into. Perhaps some do create for said reason, I am sorry for their state. I offer this contention; perhaps we create to educate?

(30 minutes later)
I retract portions of this statement. When this earth was created I do not feel that Lord God was ‘hoping for a good outcome.’ I do understand that He is perfect and divine and I am far from that…I will not hold my entire tale in my head and often I will lose my way. Writing this is akin sanctification. We approach wholeness day by day, we are not whole now, and we will not be until we are done.
Aim for a final target, do not expect failure, but accept it. Seek excellence daily.
Eternity is a decision one makes a day at a time.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Regarding the question of ‘Renewing of the mind’: (in short)

The basis of this text will be Ephesians 4:17-32, from this passage rabbit trails will provide us with a, hopefully, further insight into the specific calling to “…be renewed in the spirit of your mind.”
And so the regeneration begins…

We begin with a post-fall man, the natural man. The natural man will them become a Christian, one who has recently become an un-natural man, then we will explore how one goes about seeking to be a truly sanctified Christian. We will not revisit the natural man in this text, but Lord willing, we will review that thoroughly in a future text. For the present one need only understand this basic state of the old-self, the natural man.

“But a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised.” (1 Corinthians 2:14)

To renew a mind one must desperately seek the Truth that is buried deep within the Word, one must Obey the prescriptions of the Lord(said Truths), and have Faith in the healing of the Holy Spirit.

-The Outset.
17“This I say therefore, and affirm together with the Lord, that you walk no longer just as the Gentiles also walk, in the futility of their mind, 18being darkened in their understanding, excluded from the life of God, because of the ignorance that is in them, because of the hardness of their heart; 19and they, having become callous, have given themselves over to sensuality, for the practice of every kind of impurity with greediness.”

At the outset of each of our existences’, from the womb, unlike John the Baptist(Luke1:15), we are separated from LG/HS and our infantile hearts are already hardened to His essences, our eyes are darkened. Every true Christian understands this hardened/darkened state of being whether they wish to admit it or not; we have all walked in them, some ‘christians’ continue to walk in them, which begs further questioning not addressed within this text. We, the little ‘hard-hearted’ humans that we are, quickly grow into big ‘harder-hearted’ humans that are filled and practicing greedily of every kind of sensuality. We fill ourselves to overflowing, and go back for seconds and thirds; satan is very cunning. The wisest of all men, Solomon spoke at length regarding filling himself with sensuality in Ecclesiastes, again, his story does not make its way into this text but is illuminating supplementary reading.

Special note: Per Paul in Romans 1.
21“For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God, or give thanks; but they became futile in their speculations, 23and their foolish heart was darkened. 22Professing to be wise, the became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of bids and four-footed animals and crawling creatures.”

With this in mind…one must wonder where the Eternal Securitiests are going with their arguments.(?) A child of God cannot walk in darkness, yet these fellows will be given over to darkness…the prospects are bleak. Darkening can happen to any human soul, no one is safe, regardless of present church dogma.

-The Change.

20“But you did not learn Christ in this way, 21if indeed you have heard Him and have been taught in Him, just as truth is in Jesus, 22that, in reference to your former manner of life, you lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit, s3and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind, 24and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth.”

Paul is particular about his usages of personal pronouns. He says YOU. He is not making an open ended, “take it or leave it, it is just my point of view…after all, what do I know.” type of statement; he is saying ‘YOU DID NOT…YOU LAY ASIDE…YOU BE RENEWED’.

Special note: Per Paul in Romans 12.
2“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.”

The believer, the ones who have “heard Him and have been taught in Him,”(Eph4:21) have no recourse BUT to ‘LAY’ them, aside.

Special note regarding said ‘them’: Colossians 3.
5Therefore consider the members of your earthly body as dead to immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed, which amounts to idolatry.

We are commanded to have no other God before us, enough said.
If we take the ‘lay aside’ directive very literally, which is rarely if ever a bad approach when dealing with much of the bible, one would cease and desist to behave in the manor that they once behaved in while walking in darkness. We are called to ‘walk as children of light’. (Eph 5:8) Other usages of the term ‘Lay’ often imply a type of final resting place or submission or sacrifice or subjugation. Again, ‘Lay’ is not a suggestively toned directive. It is a matter of obedience. Will You or will You not ‘Lay’ Your old self, Your natural man, Your darkness at My feet?

Faith is a matter of action…all the glorious words of faith matter not in the face of pure obedience.
Obedience is faith with skin on it.

Do or do not, there is no try.

-“You be renewed in the spirit of your mind,” Here we enter into the point of this discourse. It is a simple statement with a seemingly exceptionally multi-faceted, biblically sprinkled, set of verbs attached. I will offer three tools for mind renewal, but it is by no means an exhaustive list. To renew a mind one must desperately seek the Truth that is buried deep within the Word, one must Obey the prescriptions of the Lord, and finally have Faith in the healing of the Holy Spirit. Incase this concept is lost upon the reader; One must know what Truth they are to Obey so that they can practice their Faith.

Finding the truth is the foundational action of the one seeking renewal of the mind. Without TRUTH, there can be no renewal.

25“Therefore, laying aside falsehood, SPEAK TRUTH, EACH ONE of you, WITH HIS NEIGHBOR, for we are members of one another. 26BE ANGRY, AND yet DO NOT SIN; do not let the sun go down on your anger, 27and do not give the devil an opportunity. 28Let him who steals steal no longer; but rather let him labor, performing with his own hands what is good, in order that he may have something to share with him who has need. 29Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth but only such a words is good for edification according to the need of the moment, that it may give grace to those who hear. 30And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. 32And be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.”

There are a handful of tangible directives in here that when practiced will lead to a renewed mind. Like every other habit, practice will perfect in some cases or solidify improper practices in other cases; it is a matter of choice, followed by obedience. A Christian mind brings much along from the natural man’s mind. God does not re-format our brains in as simple a stroke as ‘C:\format’, upon the uttering of a few words. Yes, you are new creations in Christ, you stand before Lord God justified! But you are plagued more than ever by the fiery darts of the Devil, and as a new Christian who does not even know about the Armor of God, much less how to put it on…the Christian mind can easily be wasted; reclaimed. The parable of the Sower clearly demonstrates this set of scenarios.

“Therefore putting aside all filthiness and all that remains of the wickedness, in humility receive the word implanted, which is able to save you souls.” (James 1:21)
“This is pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father, to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” (James 1:27)
“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” (James 4:8)
“All Scripture is inspired by God and Profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.” (2 Timothy 3:16-17)
“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving in let your request be made know to God.” (Philippians 4:6)
“Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worth of praise, dwell on these things.” (Philippians 4:8)

Next, obedience is a simple verb; one merely need do obey obedience. Every time the finger of God pokes a believer in their first step process of seeking truth, the believer must Obey Now!
“But prove yourselves does of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves.” (James 1:22)
“For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments; and His commandments are not burdensome.” (I John 5:3)

“If anyone does not obey our instruction in this letter, take special note of that person and do not associate with him, so that he will be put to shame.” (2 Thess 3:14)

Finally, the Holy Spirit Will heal the faithful man.
“He saved us, not the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and the renewing by the Holy Spirit.” (Titus3:5)
“Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much” (James 5:16)

To renew a mind one must desperately seek the Truth that is buried deep within the Word, one must Obey the prescriptions of the Lord, and finally have Faith in the healing of the Holy Spirit.


Further text below for additional reflection. They have not found their way into this text, but Lord willing they will land in another.

More parts to work in and consider…

1Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.
2Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth.
3For you have died and your¬ life is hidden with Christ in God.
4When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory.
5Therefore consider the members of your earthly body as dead to immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed, which amounts to idolatry.
6For it is because of these things that the wrath of God will come [a]upon the sons of disobedience,
7and in them you also once walked, when you were living in them.
8But now you also, put them all aside: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive speech from your mouth.
9Do not lie to one another, since you laid aside the old self with its evil practices,
10and have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him--
11a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all.
12So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience;
13bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you.
14Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity.
15Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful.
16Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God.

1What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase?
2May it never be! How shall we who died to sin still live in it?
4Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
5For if we have become united with Him in the likeness of His death, certainly we shall also be in the likeness of His resurrection,
6knowing this, that our old self was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin;
7for he who has died is freed from sin.
8Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him,
9knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, is never to die again; death no longer is master over Him.
11Even so consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus.
12Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its lusts,
13and do not go on presenting the members of your body to sin as instruments of unrighteousness; but present yourselves to God as those alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God.
14For sin shall not be master over you, for you are not under law but under grace.
15What then? Shall we sin because we are not under law but under grace? May it never be!
16Do you not know that when you present yourselves to someone as slaves for obedience, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin resulting in death, or of obedience resulting in righteousness?
17But thanks be to God that though you were slaves of sin, you became obedient from the heart to that form of teaching to which you were committed,
18and having been freed from sin, you became slaves of righteousness.

Friday, April 3, 2009

The Departed.

(A dream of 03.10.08)

Having reached cruising altitude absent of turbulence, the seat belt sign blinked off. He could see her silver wing glistening; the western sunset was blazing upon it from behind her. She was sleeping pacifically next to Him. She was a perfect specimen. (well, as near perfection as one is to find on an earth so fallen as this to a pessimist so pessimistic as He)

After a time, He decided to have a look about the craft. It was His first flight on a bird of this class. she was a big bird. Seven floors completed her, most of them were full of people. There were a handful of compartments that contained cargo and such with a large elevator connecting all the levels, if there was a stair He did not find it.

He had been lucky enough to procure seats for Them in the bulkhead of the third tier. From this vantage point they could see all the coming terrain clearly, straight ahead, through Their windshield, of sorts, like that in a car. They pierced through clouds, they were the arrow head of this bird, the pupil.

He read a bit but the text would not stay in, He tried to sleep and but that would not come to him either without the help of some drink. Finally, there was enough drink and enough time, and enough boredom; He succumbed.

His dreams were black velvet. They slipped one into another the darkness ever growing, all of them surrounded Her, themed in Her. He did not much subscribe to dreams, but maybe there are times to and times not to, then again, maybe there are not? she sailed through a rhythm of jarts…a 3 year-old had a drum. Subsequently, the seat belt sign turned on with a ding. He did not wake. Deeper and deeper He fell, there as no time to wake. Darker and deeper the dreams of Her grew.

He awoke to a very gentle shaking. “Wake up my Love, my morning sun, my mountain peak, my ever-after, wake up.” It was their custom to do this. He hated to wake, loved to sleep. Soon after She Knew Him, She began this ritual of rousing, it was always brilliant.
she slowly rolled to align with her harbor.


Horror came in an instant. The old girl bucked from a docile, aged mare into a stallion of purest pedigree. She was upside down and diving instantly. They watched the ground grow larger and larger. He held her tightly. They were pulling up, it seemed there was a chance that they could make it out…He knew better. He looked at her---a life passed before Him, a slide show of Knowing, there was another life lived in this moment that can be measured by no clock yet created---˙then all was black, velvety black.


They could see the runway ahead. The bulkhead is amazing. her captain set her down gently, he must have been older. The gate was not far away.

A rickety little ramp was drawn up to the craft, it was odd, she was so glorious, and this shoddy ramp was her birth. Across the ramp to a pier, water was on both side, then down the pier to another boat was their path. He led her on. The small ship did not last long, but had it not been there the swim would have been horrific, dodging all sorts of large maritime traffic. Once They left the swift they passed through a large door that seemed more in keeping with her, “this is a proper port.” Up a maze of escalators, through a line of officials, more hallways, and elevators follow. He led her on.

At last there was a Gate. A very normal type of Gate. It had a destination marked, and a time for departure. The time was near, growing ever nearer as time so often does.

“I have led You here. I cannot go with You. You are here now and You will be fine henceforth.” There was a look, it was a visual embrace that is all but lost in this day, He then turned and strode off.