With the Blazing Fury of a Thousand Sons...

One Step At A Time

2009-11-05T16:06:00.000-08:00

One Step At A Time by Queen Marie of Romania, 1926

Once I had a very dear friend who gave me wise advice. When things piled upon me and I had moments of doubt and discouragement, he always used to say: "One step at a time, my Queen - no man can take more than one step at a time."

If in our hours of distress we keep this thought before us it soothes things marvelously. Never matter how complicated our business seems at the moment one can always take a single step. It is the thought of the duties en masse that appall one! But, take the first step, and the next is easier, and the next, and so on until the thing is cleared up and out of the way.

We walk the apparently endless road - one step at a time. We build the great house - one brick upon another. We break the bundle of sticks - one by one.

Once I myself was facing what seemed an insurmountable difficulty - one of those destructive, life-sapping, courage-killing troubles. Each breath I drew was suffocating as I stood with clenched hands, wondering where was the way out...then came the kind old voice whispering, "One step at a time, my Queen, no man can do more." And I hung on and put out my foot and took my one step, blindly, gropingly, with gritted teeth and ears shut to all discouraging voices. Despair melted and courage came, I went on, desperately, knowing I alone could carry my own cross - step by step, slowly, till I found firmer ground. I never gave up and won through. During my struggle my sky seemed very dark - no sun, no stars, but something kept me pushing on, one step by one step, uphill in a lightless night. But it was so worthwhile. I reached the top and I saw the light.

It is the will to succeed and the beating of problems, one by one, that finally get you there.

I Shall Not Pass This Way Again

2009-07-16T22:44:00.000-07:00

"I expect to pass through life but once.
If therefore, there be any kindness I can show,
or any good thing I can do to any fellow being,
let me do it now,
and not defer or neglect it,
as I shall not pass this way again."

~William Penn

Farewell, Farewell

2009-07-08T00:06:00.000-07:00

"...she said to him before he went: 'This is our last parting, Estel, my son. I am aged by care, even as one of the lesser Men; and now it draws near I cannot face the darkness of our time that gathers upon Middle-earth. I shall leave soon.'

Aragorn tried to comfort her, saying: 'Yet there may be a light beyond the darkness; and if so, I would have you see it and be glad.'

But she answered only with this linnod:

'Onen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel amin.'

"and Aragorn went away heavy of heart. Gilraen died before the next spring."

Dear Gentle Readers,

My mother, one of my best friends and silent reader of my works, passed away recently. It was unexpected and I never imagined I'd be where I am now, dealing with the cruel realities of Death.

I didn't know what to say about it here. My heart was broken. I went back and read what I wrote on my Limbo post. About wanting to give it all up. Stop writing, stop blogging, delete this blog and become a "What ever happened to...?"

Then I found this email from my Mom tonight about my Limbo post. Telling me what I needed to hear, what I already knew...

"Dear [TS], I read your latest entry on 1000 Sons and I'm at a loss for words. I hope you don't decide to just give it up.

I was going to write a comment on your blog, but I didn't really want to send all this out to the world. I so love to read what you write, whether it's fiction or real life.

And I'm so sorry things are in such a mess right now. It's such a cliche, I know, but hang in there. I know I'm not the only one who enjoys your writings. As someone who has had some experience with sucky situations, it can and usually does get better. Think of some of the times that you felt like it was just hopeless and things couldn't get worse, and how things got better and changed. (I was tempted to say "and things couldn't get worse, and then they did".....cause I could hear it going through your mind. We really are such smart asses. aren't we?)

But seriously, I would hate to see you give this up. Hell, remember when you were #1 on google search for the dog story? That doesn't happen to people who write crappy. And remember what we always say.....choose happiness. And God says (or maybe it was some biblical figure) "This too shall pass." It really is true.

Anyway, know that I will always love you and no matter what you decide, I will always support you in your decisions. Maybe this means that you're looking to open another door......OK, I know, enough with the cliches.....but there has to be some truth in them, or they wouldn't still be hanging around for me to use. So let me know what you decide.....ILYHAND.......I love you always.....and miss you muchly. Love, Mom"

Thanks Mom, for giving me some perspective.

I wont give up. I'll keep going.

"One Step at a Time" like you always said.

I'm sorry I didn't update my blog when you could have read it.

I love you always, and miss you muchly too.

ILYHAND.

"Farewell, farewell to you who would hear
You lonely travellers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road does call..."

Limbo

2007-06-24T21:55:00.000-07:00

Well.

I don't know what to say.

And that's the problem.

I was quite sad to realize I hadn't posted a new post on my blog in months.

To be honest, gentle reader, I've been very depressed lately. For reasons outside my control, my home life has become a grey, shadowy, dull existence. My house is like living on the Solaris space station, a giant empty dead place. And quite frankly that kills the creativity. I haven't felt like writing or doing anything creative for months. In the past, no matter how bad things got, that was my one joy. I could make something wonderful, even if no one else saw it, and take pleasure in that. Like hiding a precious gem in a gulag. But now even that is gone. The ember died in my pocket and I have no way to relight it.

I created this blog as an outlet for my writing a couple years ago. Mainly in the beginning it was a place to hide, to get away from 'real life' and a hateful relationship and be creative. I was also going through some serious grief issues at the time, dealing with the passing of someone very dear to me. I had no outlet for this in RL, so I put it out on the Internet. It's amazing how powerful anonymity is. I could share so much with absolute strangers that I couldn't with people around me.

So I'm not really sure where I'm going to go from here. I might reorganize this site or I might start something new. Part of me also wants to just hang it up. To give up on being Thousand Sons completely and stop blogging and writing all together. I really just don't know.

Who knows? Maybe something wonderful will happen soon. Maybe the creative logjam will break and I'll feel silly for even writing this.

But knowing how life usually goes for me, I'm not counting on it.

We'll have to see...

Matisyahu at Marymoor

2006-09-08T09:52:00.000-07:00

Greetings programs!

This is Thousand Sons coming to you with his post concert review of the Matisyahu show!

The trip to the concert was, shall we say, unpleasant. The show was out in Redmond, yes that Redmond. The world headquarters of Microsoft. So I got caught in awful MS traffic, it took me 45 minutes to go barely a mile to the exit! Damn you Bill! Why dont we have flying cars yet?! We're experiencing quite a lovely indian summer up here, so the weather was quite warm. My poor little car was starting to boil itself alive in traffic, so I used an old trick I learned years ago: Roll down all the windows and turn on the heat! The temperature gauge went down a whole quarter notch, but now I was boiling alive. It was like the Sahara in my car! How long, o lord, how long must I wander through this desert? Thru the heatwaves shimmering on my dashboard I saw an SUV ahead of me with a 'Free Palestine' license plate holder. Right below a 'Harvard' sticker. Meh. Thats just super.

Finally I broke out of gridlock and sailed to the park. Marymoor Park is a beautiful patch of land out on the Eastside. I hadnt been there since the WOMAD festival years ago, and was looking forward to going there again.

I have to apologize to my readers that I wasnt able to get any pictures from the show. They weren't allowing any cameras in the venue. :( I got some dodgy cell phone pics, that I may or may not publish later, depending on quality.

The venue is an open air ampitheater in the park. The opening band was the The Polyphonic Spree, an odd band. There were like 20 people on stage, like some high school marching band on acid! The music was very upbeat, poppy, and strangely infectious. Some one said they were reminded of Electric Light Orchestra. I had to agree. Their cover of Nirvana's 'Lithium' blew me away. I'll have to check them out later, because I really dug their music.

When Matisyahu took the stage, the sun had gone down and there was a beautiful night sky. He opened with a very upbeat song that got people moving. Unlike some performers I've seen, you can tell he really feels the music he's singing. He took time out in the middle of the concert and spoke about God. How God created the universe, and how God created us in order to better understand Himself. Of course, he said it better than I can. ;-) I cant think of a better place to hear this, surrounded by God's natural beauty, beneath the moon and stars. He's a very energetic fellow. Not just dancing, which he did a lot of, but I mean his personal energy. That energy filled the crowd too, I've never been at a show with such a positive feeling. There was a hasid in the crowd, who could have been Matisyahu's twin, who got up on stage during the encore and danced. "Theres something you dont see everyday!" I thought. I half hoped he would stage dive, but he just politely hopped off the stage when he was done. Awwww.

I felt really good when I left the show. In fact, you could say I felt uplifted. Thats the magic of Matisyahu's music. It lifts you up...and keeps you there.

"Shake off the dust...arise!"

Our Inward Thoughts

2006-08-13T22:53:00.000-07:00

"Our inward thoughts, do they ever show outwardly?
There may be a great fire in our soul
and passers-by see only
a little bit of smoke
coming through the chimney,
and pass on their way."

-Vincent Van Gogh

Mission Statement

2006-06-25T12:25:00.000-07:00

In other completely unrelated news, I'm on Day 4 of zero cigarettes, cold turkey. I was up to about 1/2 pack a day, truly unheard of for me. I already feel a difference. I'm sleeping better and have more energy, but I would gleefully extract someones soul from its fleshy confines if I thought it contained naught but a nanogram of sweet, sweet nicotine.

I had a definining realization the other day. I am a stubborn old Taurus, I dont like it when other people try to control me. I get very angry when people try to screw with my life, change me, or tell me what to do. I realized I need to apply that to other things too. I define who I am and what I do. Not food, not cigarettes, not women, not sugar, nor any of the other bad influences in my life. I will not allow them to control me and my life anymore.

I'm taking charge, so heaven help the world at large!

Random Encounter

2006-06-20T22:27:00.000-07:00

Today was like any other day.

Get up, go to work, go home. Repeat as needed.

I got on the bus and rode to the Park & Ride. Listening to music, thinking about dinner.

About half way there the bus came to a halt. There was a roadblock by the local police ahead. The bus came to a halt and an officer got on.

"This road is closed. No traffic going either way for about an hour and a half."

Shit! I'm almost home! I just want to go home and relax!

"If you need to continue northbound, you'll have to take the bike trail. We aren't allowing any foot traffic thru this area."

Sigh. Its miles to the Park & Ride from here.

Well, I guess I needed some exercise.

We all shuffled off the bus like fucking refugees and started shuffling northward.

This beautiful girl from the bus got my attention. "Do you know how far it is to go?" she asked in a strange accent I couldnt place.

"A couple of miles I guess."

"I dont know this place very well," she admitted.

"Thats okay, I know where I'm going, you can follow me."

The sun was out and glorious. A great day for a walk in fact.

She was fascinating. Apparently she hailed from one of those weird former Soviet republics in central Asia.

She had fine, exotic Asian features and eyes like liquid amber.

We walked and talked endlessly. About families, about our homes, about religion.

The whole time I was amused at how odd the world can turn.

How two people from opposite sides of the planet can end up walking together, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the fragrance of the air.

Just another random encounter in a world full of random encounters.

Just another day in the life...

For Sabine...

2006-05-31T01:06:00.001-07:00

With my lightnin’ bolts a glowin’...

I can see where I am goin’...

You better look out below!

Link.

Thanks!

2006-04-06T23:07:00.000-07:00

I'd like to thank all the folks who have posted on my Futurama thread! You guys are great!

For a while that page was number 3 with a bullet on Google for 'futurama and thousand summers' searches! Not too shabby.

I can only assume that you, like me, got your hopes up when it was announced that Futurama was coming back...and had them dashed when it turned out to be a rumour.

Oh well. At least it lives on in the 'Swim!

Happy New Year

2006-04-06T23:03:00.000-07:00

Oh wait, we're already about a quarter into the new year now! Um...Happy Valentines Day! D'oh! Okay, um, Happy St. Patricks...

Dammit.

Yes, gentle reader, I am a bad blogger. I know there are hella weeds growing up in this garden. I've neglected it for a long time. :-(

So let this be my New Years (4 months late) resolution! To post more in 2006!

It...is still 2006, right?

Christmas Time

2005-12-17T03:32:00.000-08:00

Ahhh…Christmas! It's the most wonderful time of the year or so I'm told. People have a lot of opinions about it. Some happy, some sad. Some even angry. I, however, prefer to take a different Road…

"Melancholy, but pretty and hopeful at the same time."
-Evariste

That's a good way to sum up my feelings about this time of year. I've had a love/hate relationship with Christmas for a long time. I love being with family, the home cooked meals, gifts, and what not. But a lot of the emotional baggage that seems to be delivered too, all dressed up in a red bow. I also hate the obligatory office parties that come up as well. If you don't go, you're looked down upon.'Thousand Sons? Oh, that guy. He didn't come to the Christmas party this year; he's not a team player.'

I used to love Christmas completely when I was younger, because none of the bitterness had tainted it yet. The turning point was probably the year my parents divorced. Suddenly the holidays were no longer a time of celebration, but Renaissance style plotting. O Machiavelli, forget Florence! Christmas season is where the real politics are!

Whom do you visit? Grandpa and grandma? Mom? Dad? Will someone feel slighted if you visit on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas day? Does someone get relegated to a non-holiday day? Do you slip out early to visit another? Pair up with a partner that also has divorced parents and you've multiplied your woes tenfold!

Worse yet, if you have no one...

Despite all this, I still love this time of year. Why? Because I like my holidays how I like my chocolate: not syrupy sweet, but dark, rich, and somewhat bittersweet. Every year I pull out my cd of 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' and give it a listen. People tend to write off Charlie Brown and Peanuts because it's a kid thing, y'know, just a cartoon. But ol' Charles Schultz was a genius. You had to read between the lines but there was genuine emotion in Peanuts and a lot of it was dark. Attend you now, the words of Mr. Brown…

"Rats. Nobody sent me a Christmas card today. I almost wish there weren't a holiday season. I know nobody likes me, why do we have to have a holiday to emphasize it?"

"I just don't understand Christmas I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating the tree and stuff, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed."

You could never make a TV special like this for kids now! Poor Charlie Brown would be force-fed Prozac or something! Like some people I know, Schultz hid his sadness behind humour, but that didn't make his work sad. It gave it a complexity, a richness that made it multi-dimensional, like jazz. Not the new age tootling of Kenny G,but the soulful work of Vince Guaraldi, the master.
His instrumental of 'Christmas Time Is Here' inspired this little vignette in me:

The jazz trio is playing. You remember the song from your distant childhood. It's a song about Christmas but it evoked a melancholy in your heart even as a kid. You look about the smoke filled cabaret. All these lonely souls here on Christmas Eve. Come in out of the rain and cold, enjoying human company at a distance. Oh, the sound of the piano! The notes, crystal clear, dancing in air.
You sip your scotch on the rocks, savoring the smokey flavor. Through your glass you see her. The brunette at the end of the bar. Do you know her? Maybe. Maybe no one really knows anyone. The bass grumbles and rumbles, you feel it in your soul. You flash back to your childhood briefly...through the sepia tone of your scotch haze...like a fever dream of color. That blue bike your old man gave to you all those years ago. Where is it now? Don't know. The session is winding up; you settle your tab with the man. You take one last drag off your cigarette, crush it out with authority. You put your overcoat on, ready to head out into the cold. You pause for a moment, looking at the denizens of this cabaret. Lonely like you, perhaps, but it was love of a kind that brought them here. Love of music, the need for companionship. Love is wonderful, no matter how small. "That's what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown," you murmur and head out the door into the night...

Along with the soulful ache there is also a beauty in jazz that is rare and wonderful. A magic that makes your eyes brim. This what made the marriage of ideas between Guaraldi and Schultz perfect. They were fellow travelers on the same Road….

So what is Christmas is really all about? In my opinion its not just about a day or trees or candy. It's the knowledge that no matter how bad it gets, how hard it is pushing that ol' rock up that hill, there is always beauty in the world. All year long. Like helping someone in need or sharing a laugh with a friend or finding a wildflower that grows up through the concrete.
Look for the beauty.
It's there.
You'll find it.
And that is the greatest gift of all...

And together we'll celebrate forever
In defiance of the winds that blow
My God in heaven
now I feel like I'm seven
And spirit calls to me as well
As if Christmas had made the winter warmer
Made a paradise from what was hell
As if a cold and frozen soul is warm to love
By loves own hand
So goes the prayer if for a day
Peace on earth
And good will to man.......
-Blues Traveler

Laziness

2005-11-10T20:21:00.000-08:00

Hola amigos!

I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, much like Jim Anchower, but I've been hella busy lately.

I'm hoping all this activity will inspire me to pay more attention to my neglected little blog.

Got a new gig, making use of my evil computer skills! >:)

But other than that I've mostly been layin' low, stayin' out of trouble.

I hope to start seeing some shows again, so I can give y'all my "Man on the Scene" reports!

Stay tuned...

Drive

2005-11-10T20:18:00.000-08:00

Okay, scary ass story time...

So I was going out last Saturday, to this bar over on the Eastside. I take the exit for the 520 bridge. There’s this tunnel exit with a sharp little turn. As I'm coming around the corner I feel the back end of my car break free. Next thing you know I see the left hand wall coming right at me in slow motion. Didnt freak out or anything, the only thought I had was "Crap. Here we go." WHAM! Smacked in to the wall and my car bounces off. I fought to correct the steering. WHAM! I hit the other wall on the right and bounced again. Got control again and pulled off on the first exit I could. I sat and shook for a little bit. I'm fine though. I looked at my St. Christopher medallion on the rearview mirror and said a little prayer of thanks to God.

I drove her home. Theres a slight shimmy in the steering. Probably fucked up my alignment or something. I'm gonna take a look at it this weekend. Theres no other damage to my car though, just two scuffs on the bumper. God bless General Motors!

Bumbershoot

2005-09-22T11:50:00.000-07:00

Greetings programs!

This is Thousand Sons with a retrospective of the 2005 Bumbershoot Music and Arts Festival in lovely Seattle!

Wow, what an experience. This year I sprang for the 4 day pass, and let me tell you, it was worth it.

Bumbershoot, for those of you outside of Seattle, is our Labor Day weekend festival running Friday thru Monday. Its hard to believe, but Bumbershoot has been going on for 35 years now. Its older than me! Sheesh! There is always big name acts, but for me its the bands I've never heard of that really draw me.

I've been going off and on for a few years now. Its always been that final hurrah of the summer for me.

I had a lot more pictures to share with you but my camera, frankly, sucks. About half of them didnt turn out. Note to self: Never by another camera/printer bundle. You'll end up getting screwed on at least half the deal. I got some pictures with my phone on Friday, you can see those here: 1000sons/Bumbershoot There are limits to the quality of camera phones too, unfortunately. Next year I'm buying a dozen disposable cameras. Or maybe just one decent camera. >:(

Day One: Friday

Whoo hooo! The first day of Bumbershoot! Got my straw fedora, hawaiian shirt, and backpack ready to go! What will the weekend hold? I cant wait to find out!

Cuchata
Afro-Latin stylings from Cuchata! What a way to start the weekend!

MangoSon
Salsa and meringue music. Gotta jump up and dance!

Altered States of Funk
Local funkmeisters, Altered States of Funk laid down some stone grooves, man. There was a serious moment when lead singer Winfield Ezell Jr. took time out to acknowledge the tragedy in New Orleans in a freestyle spoken word jam.

You gotta take time out of your day to frolic in the International Fountain! When I was a kid, this thing looked more like a hateful sea urchin. Sharp metal water jets, jagged rock surrounding it, it was no place to play. A few years back they completely redesigned it, making it more friendly.

Dudley Manlove Quartet
Popular (and unpopular) music with a lounge feel! They were a lot of fun. They performed Xanadu, people! Xanadu! How can you not love that?!

Maktub
Seattles premier rock/funk/soul band! They have a unique sound that will blow your mind. Their guitarist Thaddeus Turner tore it up with a blistering tribute to Jimi Hendrix. More about him in a moment...

Garbage
Shirley Manson and the boys. She wore bright pink nylons under her dress that were visible from space. They rocked so hard! They played one of my favorites of theirs 'When I Grow Up'. Love that song. I'll let you know if I ever do.

On a more serious note: Everyones hearts went out to the victims of Hurricane Katrina too. There were dozens of places to donate all throughout the Seattle Center. I had a weird epiphany sitting by the fountain. I looked around at all the throngs of people and thought 'Just imagine if all these people weren't here for a festival, but had to live here." It was a chilling thought. Sorry, back to the fun...

Day Two: Saturday

The Fading Collection
Dark wave meets electronica. Beautiful, ethereal vocals by Sarah and Tavia.

Africa Yaya Diallo
West African soukous guitar music. You cant sit still listening to this!

Harvey Danger
Maybe best known for their big hit 'Flagpole Sitta', Harvey Danger still makes intelligent and fun music. A special treat for music nerds: Robyn Hitchcock joined them for a rendition of his song 'Viva! Sea-Tac'!

"Viva! Seattle Tacoma, viva viva Sea-Tac!
Viva viva viva viva viva Sea-Tac!
They've got the best computers and coffee and smack!"

Digable Planets
The old school becomes the new school again! Digable Planets put us in a trance with their own unique hip-hop stylings! Thaddeus Turner of Maktub and his brother Tugboat showed up to play with the Planets at their show. Incidently they both play with another local favorite of mine, the 206 Ribshack BBQ Orchestra. But thats another story...

Day Three: Sunday

The Pharcyde
Man, hip hop doesnt get much better than Pharcyde in my book. 'Labcabincalifornia' is still one of my favorite albums. They were the highlight of my day.

Talib Kweili
One of the finest writers in hip-hop today. Music that really makes you think. I love it. Hip hop isnt all about Cristal, bling, and hoes, yo.

Took some time out to watch the Polynesian Dancers perform. Who doesnt love a good hula?

Common
More Jazz-rap from my man, Common. He's probably best know right now for his collaboration with Kanye West "Be".

Marlena Shaw
Whoo! This blues lady gots attitude! And style! Full of soul.

"The bluest skies I've ever seen are in Seattle!" Except when it rains. There's a reason why they named this festival after an umbrella. Late afternoon the rain started coming down. Me and my friend huddled under a awning and planned our next move. "Do we want to stay and see Elvis Costello?" "Meh. I hear he wont play his old stuff anymore." "Me, I vote we walk to the car while is daylight and raining, instead of pitch black, cold and raining." So we sounded the retreat. There comes a point of saturation, when your clothes can get any wetter and you cant hate rain anymore. A cosmic moment. I jumped in a few puddles on the way to the car, just like a kid.

Day Four: Monday
Its been a looooong weekend. I'm exhausted.

The Decemberists
My new favorite find of 2005! Folk rock stylings that remind me of Fairport Convention.They sing songs about poverty, maritime disasters, and 15th century potentates! Fun!

Dashboard Confessional
Kinda of a punk/folk thing. With an edge. I want to search out more of their stuff.

The Be Good Tanyas
Blue grass trio, very 'O Brother Where Art Thou'. Laying out on the grass, listening to folksy music, drinking up the sunshine, and staring up a the Space Needle. Just what the doctor ordered after such a long weekend.

Highway 99
All-starsLunchtime! Nothing like some greasy fair food and rhythm and blues to wash it down!

Arturo Rodriguez Quartet
Beautiful latin jazz from local artist, Arturo Rodriguez.

And just like that, its over. Four days of safari though the landscape of music. We leave the Seattle Center, our adopted home for a weekend, and head back to the real world. I put up my straw hat until next summer. I sleep heavy that night, worn out from our expedition, and I dream. Dream of a world of endless possibilities and varieties of music.

And I wait impatiently for next year...

MIB FAQ

2005-09-15T12:50:00.000-07:00

In case any of my readers not familiar with Discarded Lies are saying 'WTF??", a brief explanation:

The story revolves around Thousand Sons 'The Man In Black', a fictional character (very loosley) based on myself. Other posters from DL find their way into the story at times too.

'Fred' is the nickname of a thread on DL that grew to immense size took on an evil life of its own.

Rene the Baker, Jimmy the Bartender, and Streck are characters that have been kicking around in stories of my for a long time. Thought it would be fun to bring them into the mix too!

'Sojourner', however, is a very real person.

And Sojo, if you're reading this, I haven't given up the 'good fight'! Thanks for your support! ;-)

The Return of the Man In Black Pt IV

2005-09-14T22:57:00.000-07:00

A small tropical island in the South China Sea. Early evening.

The Inquisitor Essington Streck strides up the road to the villa.

He had landed his ship in a clearing in the jungle nearby.

His robes rustled as he strode the dusty road, his senses were ready for action.

The villa seemed devoid of life, no activity could be seen, nor people.

Except one.

In the main plaza stood a man in a black suit bearing a sword.

The smoke from his cigarette drifted lazily in the warm breeze. Streck closed the distance between the two of them.

He nodded in greeting. "Thousand Sons."

The man in black took a drag off his cigarette and tossed it away. "Streck."

"You should not have come here, Thousand Sons. My business is with the revenant only."

"I have my own reasons for being here, Streck."

Streck unsheathed his power blade.

"Step aside, Thousand Sons. The Inquisition will have the head of your patron. His very presence taints this world."

"I don’t disagree with you on that, Streck." he said unsheathing the Thread-Killer blade. It hummed with joy, ready to strike.

"Then you will step aside?"

"No."

The two faced off like gunfighters in the Old West.

"Where is The Baker, Streck?"

Streck frowned. "The Baker? He is quiescent at the moment."

"No, he is not." replied the man in black. "He was reactivated days ago by Imperial agents."

"I don’t know what you are playing at, but I'm quite sure he is inactive."

"You're wrong. He is here somewhere, I can feel it."

Fred strolled leisurely out on the balcony overlooking the plaza.

"Ahhh, Inquisitor Streck! How nice to see you! I see you're making acquaintance with my friend, Thousand Sons."

The two continued to stare each other down, not taking their eyes of each other.

"We've met before." Streck said shortly.

"Well, the gangs all here I see! Just in time, I have a few old friends that want to join the party!"

Fred clapped his hands twice and a legion of zombies shambled their way into the courtyard, surrounding Streck and Thousand Sons.

"What is this, Fred?" asked the man in black, coldly.

"Old friends of yours, Thousand Sons. Remember my minions you dispatched before? When you came to kill me? They are here to say hello again!" Fred laughed.

"A setup." said Thousand Sons flatly.

"Oh my yes! Did you really think I could pass up an opportunity to be rid of two foes at once? My dear Mr. Sons, I believe you are slipping in your old age!"

Fred claps his hands.

"Minions! Deal with them; I'll be down shortly to watch the festivities!"

The zombies began shambling forward.

The two adversaries, once intent on dueling to the death, now spun about and stood back to back.

Streck put up his power sword and produced a large silver mace from his cloak. It crackled with unknown power. "This is a holy weapon. Its merest touch will bring death to the deathless."The man in black nodded. "This is Thread-Killer blade. It too will extinguish these mockeries of life."

"Together then?" asked Streck.

"Together." nodded the man in black. "We can always kill each other later."

Streck grinned wickedly. "Indeed."

The zombies charged and the battle began in earnest.

"In the Emperors name!" bellowed Streck. When his mace touched a zombie it burst into silver flame, consuming it wholly.

"Dang! I need a catchy battle cry too someday!" yelled the man in black.

Thread-Killer blade howled with glee, dispatching zombie after zombie.

"There is too many of them!" cried Thousand Sons.

"Courage, warrior! We shall prevail!" boomed Streck.

Fred strolled out across the plaza with a beautiful woman in tow.

"Come along, Sojourner! Time we were leaving!"

Sojourner caught sight of the man in the black suit.

She cried out "Thousand Sons!"

Over the clamorous din of the battle he heard her voice. "Sojourner!"

Streck saw Fred. "The revenant!" he cried. "He is the key to all this!" he yelled. "Destroy him and this will all end!"Thousand Sons nodded grimly and began wading his way through the zombies like a scythe through wheat toward Fred.

The blazing fury gripped him and he saw nothing but his prey.

"Fred!" he growled.

He got within a meter of Fred before being disarmed by a rush of zombies.

Thread Killer blade clattered to the ground, growling impotent anger.

"Bring him to me, my minions!"

The zombies hurled the man in black to the ground before Fred who blurred into his female form.

"So! The mighty Thousand Sons!" she crowed. "What a pity your story ends here, my old friend."

The man in black stood up and dusted himself off, glaring intently at Fred.

"What will you do now, man in black?" she crooned. "Where is your deadly blade, O Thousand Sons?"

She laughed with great mirth.

She leaned close in and patted his cheek. "Goodbye, Mr. Sons."

Across the courtyard Streck called out in a great voice. "Thousand Sons! Catch!"

With a mighty arm he threw his mace in the air, toward the trio.

It spun slowly through the air in a long arc...and sailed right past Thousand Sons, landing with a great clatter.

The zombies flooded over Streck like the tide, obscuring him from sight.

The man in black stared agape at the mace lying harmlessly on the ground, just out of reach.

Fred laughed outrageously.

"Oh this is just too much! Too have come so far and fail at the last. Ha ha!"

She wiped a tear of merriment from her eye. "Oh, I haven’t laughed this hard in ages."

"Goodbye again, Mr. Sons! I think this will be our final farewell."

"Yes it will." said Sojourner behind him, holding the mace.

Unnoticed and forgotten in the confusion she had picked up the holy weapon!

Fred reverted to his male form, the man in the cream colored suit.

He held his hands up in panic.

"Now, Sojourner, don’t be hasty..."

Sojourner grinned wickedly. "This is for keeping me on this island against my will!"

WHACK! She struck Fred in the arm with the mace, its power crackling.

The zombies faltered for a moment.

"OWWWW! Hey!!" Fred whined.

"This is for double crossing Thousand Sons!"

WHACK! She struck Fred a second time, disrupting his magic protection.

The zombies began to panic, shambling aimlessly.

She bore down on Fred, a look of determination in her eye.

"Baby! Baby, we can work this out, I know!" cowered Fred.

"And this! This is because I always get the last word! HA!"

WHACK! She struck Fred a third and final time.

He howled like a banshee and all his magics were broken!

The zombies began to crumble, falling into dust. Fred began to crumble too."All my plans are ruined! Ruined! Who ever thought a woman like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness? What a world..! What a woooorld....."

He collapsed in a pile of ashes.

Streck began dusting himself off and walked over to the two. "Excellent work, Madame. May I have my mace back now?" he asked smiling.

"Oh! Oh, of course." said Sojourner, handing the mace over.

Streck returned it to the folds of his cloak.

"Now, Thousand Sons." he said. "Or should I say 'What now?"

Thousand Sons took a cigarette from his case.

He lit it slowly and took a long drag.

"Well. I guess that depends." he exhaled.

Streck nodded. "Yes. The revenant Fred was my primary target, but you, you are another matter."

Thousand Sons began moving to his Blade, but was brought up short by Streck's blaster.

He shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette.

"You see, I know about you. I've read your file. You are a traitor to the Imperium!You abandoned your squad and ran to this planet!"

Sojourner looked on bemused by this conversation. She hoped answers would be forthcoming.

"I didn’t abandon anything." replied Thousand Sons quietly. "I was asked to leave Imperial service."

"By whom?" asked Streck skeptically. "Who would have the authority to do such a thing, if it were possible?"

"I could tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me."

Streck glares, waiting.

Thousand Sons sighs. "The Emperor."

"I don’t believe you."

"There!" grinned Thousand Sons. "What did I tell you?"

"Now is not the time for your usual flip comments!" Streck boomed. "Why?"

"Earth was a non-aligned world." explained Thousand Sons. "I was sent here long ago to scout it out, in secret. I made my report directly to the Emperor. He was so shocked by what I'd found he immediately signed the Non Interference Treaty and made this system off limits to Imperial interference. All record of my being here was expunged. It was made to look as if I'd deserted the Legion and perished in the Fringe Worlds. Of course, rumors of my existence kept popping up here and there. Being a cross temporal entity has its advantages...and disadvantages."

Streck shook his head. "This is all nonsense. How could even the Emperor cover this up? The Inquisition would already know this..."

"The Inquisition is not all-knowing!" countered the man in black. "There are secrets in this universe that even your Order is not privy to."

Streck frowned. "I have served the Inquisition my entire life. I am privy to secrets that would drive you into howling madness. I have seen horrors that would make men run screaming into the night. What did you find here that was so alarming to the Empire?"

"I could tell you...but then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore would it?" replied the man in black, smiling. "It wouldn’t do you any good anyway, because you'd never understand. The very fact that you know this much makes you a marked man, Streck."

Streck straightened his posture and pondered for a moment. "I will report that the revenant threat has been neutralized. I will also report that Thousand Sons is no threat to the Imperium. It will bear the seal of the Inquisition. None would dare question it. But you must promise me something in return: You must never return to Imperial Space. It would be too dangerous...for both of us."

The man in black nodded. "All right. I promise. I haven't been back in years anyway."

The two clasped hands roughly.

"You fought well, Inquisitor Streck. It was an honor to fight by your side!"

"And yours as well, Thousand Sons. It seems you've learned a thing or two since last we met!"

"When was that? The Fomalhaut Campaign or Orion?"

"Orion, I think."

"That was you? I thought so! But why did the...."

"Would someone please explain what the hell is going on here?!"

The two were startled by the outburst.

"Oh! Sojourner! Sorry, this is Inquisitor Streck..."

Streck makes a formal bow.

"I gathered that." she replied witheringly. "So when were you going to tell me you were from outer space?!"

"Oh...well...um..."

Just then a shot rang out in the air of the courtyard.

A thin man in a skintight black jumpsuit strode into view.

"Ah, very touching non? Like two old friends now, eh?"

"Damn! I forgot about The Baker!" said Thousand Sons, edging toward his sword again.

The thin man shot the pavement in front of Thousand Sons, bringing him up short.

"Ah ah! None of that. You'll have to do without your blade, m’sieur."

Thousand Sons lights a cigarette, staring down his opponent.

Thread Killer blade grumbled on the ground.

Rene the Baker stood smiling in front of the man in black, his gun leveled at him.

The man in black took a long drag and smiled. "I don’t need my blade for everything, Baker." he said and flicked his lit cigarette viciously at the Baker's face.

Rene instinctively flinched and the man in black whipped his left hand out, disarming the assassin.

The two began a vicious hand-to-hand brawl, using all their martial arts prowess.

In the end it was experience that won the day. Experience that the man in black had before Rene was even born. He quickly subdued his would-be assassin.

Rene knelt panting on the ground. "You...you seem to be quite skilled, M’sieur Mils Fille. End this."

Thousand Sons smoothed out his suit jacket.

"No. I may be many things, but I'm not a murderer."

"End it! I've waited for this moment!" cried Rene. "I've done terrible things as an assassin, m’sieur, in the name of the Empire! I don’t want to live with them!"

"I can help you with that, my friend." said Streck.

Streck produced a small device from his belt pouch. A Strobe but more advanced than Thousand Sons had seen before.

"Standard Inquisition issue. With this I can erase your prior assassin programming, permanently, and remove all memory of this event."

The Strobe began to flash before Rene's eyes.

Rene wept. "Thank you, m’sieur! Bless you!" he said as he fell asleep.

"Shhh." Streck said gently. "Dream, my friend. Dream of baguettes and cakes and pastries. Dream...and tomorrow your dream will be true once again."

He picked up Rene in his arms.

"I'll take him back home. He won’t remember a thing tomorrow."

"So that’s what they mean when they say 'The Inquisition leaves no witnesses!"

Streck gave an enigmatic grin. "Sometimes, Mr. Sons. Sometimes."

The man in black arched his eyebrow at this and said nothing.

"And now I must take my leave of you. Goodbye Thousand Sons. Goodbye Sojourner. Be well!"
Streck walked down the road to his ship, carrying the unconscious former assassin over his shoulder.

Thousand Sons let out a sigh of relief.

"Well! I'm glad that’s over with...OWWWW!"

Sojourner smacked Thousand Sons in the arm!

"What was that for?!" he asked with exasperation.

"Outer space?!" she glared at him.

"Um...heh...yeah. It’s a long story."

"I have time." she said levelly.

"Yeah. I guess we both do now. We also have this whole island, the mansion and its servants all to ourselves! I could use a vacation."

"Don’t change the subject."

He gave a sheepish look. "My story is pretty long. It might take...years...to tell it all."

"Well you need to start somewhere, don’t you?" she winked. "How about 'how old you are', Mr. Sons?"

"There are times, my dear Sojourner, that I feel like the oldest man in the universe."

"And now?"

"Now? Today I feel...young again." he smiled.

Sojourner looked wistfully at the pile of ash on the ground. "Y'know, it’s funny. I kind of miss Fred now."

Thousand Sons puts an arm around her shoulders.

"I know. Me too. But I have the feeling he wont be gone forever." he says enigmatically.

He looks up at the stars sadly.

"Penny for your thoughts, TS?" Sojourner asks.

"There's something I need to do. Something I should have done a long time ago..."

-------------------Epilogue the first.
A small boulangerie somewhere in France, the next day.

Rene has finished the morning baking and opens his shop for business.

Although he had the strangest dreams last night, he feels incredibly rested.

The bell on the front door rings merrily and the first customer of the day enters.

A large heavy set man with a grey beard.

"Bon jour, mon ami! What can I do for you today?" asked Rene cheerfully.

"Two loaves of your rustic bread. And a sticky bun."

"Certainly! Will that be all?"

"Yes, wrap it well. I have a long journey ahead of me."

As the man was paying, Rene got a strange feeling. "Have we met before, m’sieur? I have the oddest feeling of..."

"Deja vu? Oh, I'm certain it’s nothing. We've never met before."

"Hmmm. So you say you have a long journey?” asked Rene, making small talk while wrapping the baked goods. “What are you doing when you get there?"

The large mans eyes misted over for a moment. "Painting."

"Oh, m’sieur, how wonderful!" Rene clapped. "What type of painting? Portraits? Still life?"

The large man shrugged. "Landscapes mostly."

"What are you painting today, m’sieur?" asked Rene as he rung up the sale.

The large man paid and gathered his packages.

He smiled broadly.

"Cherry blossoms." he replied and walked out of the store.

Rene puzzled for a moment.

"How odd. Where can one find cherry blossoms this time of year?" he wondered.

--------------------------Epilogue the second.

Deneb IV, somewhere within Imperial Space, several weeks later.

A lonely wind whispers through the trees.

The first moon is near its apex, the second moon is just rising.

This is the cemetery world of The Legion, the armored defenders of the Empire.

The headstones stand as tall and proud as the warriors did in life.

Tonight a man is breaking a promise to a new found friend for reasons of his own.

A man dressed in black suit makes his way to the monument in the middle of the grounds.

He is carrying a large bundle of tropical flowers from his adopted planet.

Before him stands a memorial to the fallen; a larger than life statue of a Legionnaire resplendent in his armor, his hand reaching to the sky.

The man in black places the flowers at the feet of the statue and salutes.

He sits down at the base, leaning back against the marble, savoring its coolness.

The wind picks up slightly.

He looks out at the ranks of headstones and lights a cigarette.

"Hello, boys." he says softly. "It’s been a long time."

-fin-

The Return of the Man In Black Pt.III

2005-09-14T22:52:00.000-07:00

Earth, the present day.

A small bar somewhere in Hong Kong. The evening’s patrons are being treated to some good, old fashioned jazz. The band leader addresses the crowd.

"Thank you, thank you! You're a wonderful audience. Now, I don't usually do this...but we have a friend here tonight. Maybe with the proper encouragement we can get him up here for a song. Mr. Sons, would you come up here and grace us with your crooning?"

All eyes turn to the bar where a tall man in a black suit is enjoying a drink.

He's startled at the applause from the crowd. He feigns embarrassment.

"Now, Tommy, you know I can't sing." he says waving it off.

"Oh nonsense, sir!" replies the band leader. "Come on up here!"

The crowd cheers and begins pounding the tables rhythmically.

"Man-in-black, man-in-black!" they cheer.

The man shoots an accusatory look at the bartender. "This is your doing isn't it, Jimmy?"

Jimmy the bartender is all innocence. "Who me?" he grins.

"Sigh. All right, all right." He places his sword on the bar.

"You stay right there," he says to it. "And don't get into any trouble."

You could swear the sword began whistling a tuneless tune.

"Hmph. Smartass." he mutters.

He walks up the stage, grasping the old fashioned mike.

A brief consultation with the band, they all nod and smile. They know this song well.

The man in black addresses the crowd. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Here's an oldie but a goodie. Its one of my favorites...And a one and a two..."

"Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear
And it shows them pearly white
Just a jackknife has old MacHeath, babe
And he keeps it … ah … out of sight."

"Ya know when that shark bites, with his teeth, babe
Scarlet billows start to spread
Fancy gloves, though, wears old MacHeath, babe
So there’s nevah, nevah a trace of red."

"Now on the sidewalk … uuh, huh … whoo … sunny mornin’ … uuh, huh
Lies a body just oozin' life … eeek!
And someone’s sneakin' ‘round the corner
Could that someone be Mack the Knife?"

"A-there's a tugboat … huh, huh, huh … down by the river don’tcha know
Where a cement bag’s just a'droopin' on down
Oh, that cement is just, it's there for the weight, dear
Five'll get ya ten old Macky’s back in town."

"Now, d'ja hear ‘bout Louie Miller? He disappeared, babe
After drawin' out all his hard-earned cash
And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor
Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash?"

"Now … Jenny Diver … ho, ho … yeah … Sukey Tawdry
Ooh … Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown
Oh, the line forms on the right, babe
Now that Macky’s back in town."

"Aah … I said Jenny Diver … whoa … Sukey Tawdry
Look out to Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown
Yes, that line forms on the right, babe
Now that Macky’s...back in toooooown …!"

"Look out … old Macky is back!! "

The crowd cheers and applauds. The man in black bows with a florish.

He walks back to the bar and his drink. There is a man there nattily dressed in a cream colored suit with an orange tie, wearing a cream colored panama hat.

"Bravo, Thousand Sons! Bravo! Will you be doing an encore?" he asks.

The man in black sips his drink, not looking. "Hello, Fred."

"I suppose you want to know how I found you?" Fred asks.

"A six foot tall man in a black suit carrying a sword can't be all that hard to find in Hong Kong, Fred." the man replies flatly.

"Touché. Dry as a martini, Thousand Sons. As always." says Fred, smiling.

The man pulls an ornate cigarette case from his jacket. He takes one for himself and offers another. "Smoke?"

"Got my own, thanks." replies the man in black, lighting one up.

The sword on the bar glows and grumbles.

"Hello, Thread-Killer blade. How are you?" asks Fred.

The sword profoundly ignores him.

Fred turns to Thousand Sons.

"So, I suppose you want to know why I'm here."

"Nope." replies the man in black without looking. "By the way, I thought you were a woman.

Fred shrugs. "I can assume different forms at will."

He shimmers for a moment and in his place a ravishing beauty appears wearing a light cream colored dress with an orange sash tied at the waist.

"Is this more pleasing to you?" she croons.

"Not really." the man in black replies with great indifference.

She leans in. "Look, I know you don’t like me..."

"'Hate' is the word that springs to my mind, Fred."

"Indeed. But I'm here because I need your help. And you need mine."

The man takes a drag, exhales. "Really? How amusing."

"Dammit, man! Listen!" she exlaims angrily. "Certain things have been brought to my attention! I know that the Empire has activated a sleeper assassin via Strobe! He's on his way here!"

This piqued the mans interest. "Hmph. Who? The Butcher, the Baker, or the Candle-stick Maker?"

"The Baker, blast it! The Frenchman!"

"That’s too bad." shrugged Mr. Sons. "Rene was always a better baker than he ever was an assassin. Why tell me?"

"There's more." she leans in and whispers. "I've found out through my off world contacts that an Inquisitor is coming to Earth."

The man crushes his cigarette out angrily.

"Bullshit. They wouldn't dare. Non-interference treaty, remember?"

"The Inquisition makes their own rules, Mr. Sons. You know that."

"Do you know who it is?"

"Streck."

The man sips his drink. "Streck, eh? That’s a problem. Who's his target?"

"Me, you idiot! I'm a zombie, remember?!"

"Ahh, yes. Good luck with that."

"I need your help!" she cries.

"Not my problem."

"I can pay you!"

"Don't need your money, Fred."

"Will you do it...for Sojourner?"

The mans hand creeps to his sword. "What have you done?" he asks flatly.

"Nothing, nothing at all." she replies smiling. "She's a guest on my island. And you know what the Inquisition will do if they find her there."

The man in black frowns. "No witnesses."

"Exactly."

The man finishes his drink.

"So what do you say? she asks smiling. "A...partnership? A limited partnership?"

The man ponders for a moment.

"Very limited." he frowns.

She strikes the bar with her hand. "Excellent!"

The man in black shakes her hand, to seal the deal.

"I thought it was customary for a gentleman to kiss the hand of a lady?" she asks, batting her eyelashes.

"I'd sooner kiss this ashtray. Its far more charming than you'll ever be."

"Poo. You're no fun." she pouts.

The man in black shakes his head. "Sigh. This is going to be interesting."

The woman laughs. "An old Chinese fortune cookie once said "May you live in interesting times!"

"That was no fortune," replies the man in black. "That was a curse."

--------

Earth, somewhere in China, a long time ago.

An old man dressed in black robes sits beneath a banyan tree, lotus style.

His eyes are closed, contemplating.

A man dressed in black walks out from the trail, weary from his journey. He has traveled far and wide learning of this world that is not his own.

The old man beneath the banyan tree doesn’t bother to open his eyes. “So. You have found me”

The man in black asks in a commanding voice ”You are Master Zhu Yuanzhang, yes?”

The old man smiles. “Sometimes.”

The man in black clears his throat. “I've been sent here to learn about this world…”

The old man in black robes waves him off. ”Spare me, boy. I’ve heard it all before.”

The man in black frowns. “You’ve led a merry chase, old man. My contacts in Asia had a hard time finding you, but…”

”Yes, yes. Quite. Tell me…have you learned this world yet?”

The man in black is brought up short, startled. ”Excuse me?”

“I asked you a question. Have you learned all of this world?”

”Well…I…be quiet! I don't have time to learn everything about this world!”

"Who does?" asks the old man.

The man in black frowns.

”Heh. You think you are unique in your pursuit, yes?” says the old man to the man in black. “That you're the only one trying to learn about this world?”

”What are you talking about?” he asks.

"My boy, we've all been sent to this world to learn about it. Every one of us."

The man in black is thunderstruck.

”What do you think of it, so far?”

The man in black shakes his head. ”This world is full of wars and fighting. Its people are savages, killing each other for no reason."

The man in black robes nods. “That’s true. I cannot deny that. There’s more to it than that though. There is great violence in this world, but great beauty as well.”

”What does that have anything to do with…”

”Be silent, ignorant child!” The man in black robes snaps at him. “I know why you think you’re here,” he says, pointing his wizened finger. “Everyone thinks they know everything. But they don’t. Neither do I.”

“I've studied with great masters.” he continues. “Men who could perform great feats. Feats of strength, or power. Men who could bend steel or crush a rock with bare palm. And yet in all my travels, they never answered that one simple question."

The man in black snorts. “What question is that?”

The old man looks at him with childlike eyes.

"Why am I here?" he asks softly.

The man in black ponders this for a moment.

”You’re here because you’ve been searching for me.” says old Black Robes. “Desperately trying to find me, you were told I had some secret knowledge for you. You're right, I do, but you didn’t have to go to such lengths. You’re me, after all.”

A feeling of horror crept up inside the man in black. “What…what are you babbling about old man?”

”There are worlds within worlds, my boy. Anything can happen, you know? A man may find that he is too big for one world, existing in many. A man can spend his whole life searching…seeking himself. Now you’ve found me. Here I am.”

The man in black starts to back away, the old man stands up and follows, hands spread.

The man in black stumbles. He falls backwards in the grass, trying to push away. “Get away! Stay away from me you crazy old man!"

”What? After all this time? What do you truly fear, warrior? It’s okay to be afraid. Only fools and children are truly fearless.”

”Stay away!”

“You’re simply another part of myself. Another…aspect, if you will. A character in a story, just as we all are. Just as I was when I found my master.”

”This is madness!”

Master Zhu laughs out loud. “Hah! Yes! Madness. I thought so too when I heard it.”

The man in black is in daze, reeling from this bizarre turn of events.

”But if this is true…then…who am I?”

The man in black shrugs, smiling.

“Ahhh…now that is a question you must discover for yourself.”

The old man comes to kneel by the man in black seated in the grass.

"You're...you're just an Earth man." he says. "How can you know...about space? The Empire?"

Zhu Yuanzhang shrugs. "How does it go? 'There are more things in heaven and earth...' Never mind. I can’t remember the rest."

The man in black sighs.

The old man leans in next to him.

"I come with a warning too, my boy: This world must remain isolated from outside interference. Its people have a special role in the fate of the entire universe."

The man in black laughs. "These backwater savages? What role is that?"

The old man shrugs, smoothing his robes.

"I cannot tell you. I have to...show you."

The old mans hands reach out, grasping the man in black’s temples.

“What...what are you doing?!” he cried in alarm.

"Shhh. Watch...and listen."

There is light in the old mans eyes.

The man in blacks eyes become unfocused, staring at the sky. His mouth is slightly agape.

"What...But...but...I...they...."

"Shhh. Open your mind."

The man in black continues to stare aimlessly at the sky. Slowly a smile reaches his lips. Tears burn in his eyes.

He grasps at words. "It's... its..."

"Wonderful. Yes, I know."

Master Zhu releases him.

The man in black sits back in the grass and rubs his eyes. "And no one else knows this? No one at all?"

"You do, my young friend. And your masters must know too. They must not interfere with this world."

"I...I'll go. Go and tell them." says the man in black, rising to his feet. "I'll try my best."

The old man smiles ambiguously.

"That’s all anyone can ask, my boy."

The Return of the Man In Black Pt. II

2005-09-14T22:46:00.000-07:00

Planet LG-54309, Cygnus system, the distant past.

The rebels are holed up in a commandeered Imperial fortress.

"They won’t dare a frontal assault, Morak." whispered a rebel to his leader.

"Our power field is at full, brother." replied Morak.

"They won’t bombard this base, but they are planning something."

They scan the darkened skies above. They know the Imperial forces are up there. Their ships circle slowly in the clouds, like sharks around a kill.

The quiet is deafening. The men are sick at their guns with waiting. The smell of perspiration hangs in air.

"I..I have a bad feeling about this, Morak. Maybe we should surrender."

"Delmag, if I hear that from you once again I'll shoot you myself." replied Morak quietly.

"Leader, this is foolishness! What have we gained from this??"

Morak pushes the muzzle of his rifle against Delmag’s face. "Silence." he growls.

Just then, three thunderous detonations explode over the fortress, filling the sky with blinding light.

The rebels are temporarily blinded by the flash, the shouting begins.

A fourth detonation rocks the fortress, a basso profundo rumble felt in the bones.

The power field shimmers and winks out of existence.

"The field! They destroyed the generator! They must be inside the walls!"

More shouting and cursing as the rebels take up positions.

Beam rifles scream out into the night.

The main gate implodes inward and a multitude of black armored figures flood in.

"It's the Legion!" screams the rebel leader. "Forward, men! Protect the gate!"

But it is too late.

The Legionnaires surge forward like a wave, crashing through the barricades.

They draw their power swords and begin a methodical slaughter of the rebel forces.

Screams and cries fill the cool night air. The sky is illuminated by angry red glowglobes.

"They're coming this way! Morak, get ready! Morak!! Where are you going?!"

The cowardly rebel leader flees the battlefield, leaving his brother to his fate.

In his panicked flight he runs straight into the Legionnaires commander.

Reflexively he swings his rifle at the commander’s head. "Die! DIE!!"

It bounces off the helmet with an unsatisfying clang.

The commander casually backhands the rebel into unconsciousness, like swatting a fly, sending him sprawling.

The battlefield begins quieting down, though still accented by occasional rifle fire.

The commander removes his helmet, the seals cracking with a hiss of air.

It reveals a brown skinned man of indeterminate age with black hair.

He surveys the scene around him and comlinks to the ships floating above.

"Strikeforce, this is the Forward Commander. Landing zone is secure. Begin your descent."

"Affirmative, Commander." is the crackled reply. "Glory to the Empire!"

The black armored man frowns, the smell of smoke burning his nostrils.

"Glory to the Empire." he mutters darkly.

------

Earth, somewhere in France. The very recent past...

Rene closed his boulangerie for the evening. He locked the door, smiling. Business was good today. The life of a baker was hard but sometimes satisfying.

On his way home he noticed two large men following him.

He tried to ignore this, picking up his pace a little.

The two men increased their pace as well.

Rene felt nervous, and a little frightened.

Who were these people? Why were they following him?

Home was right around the corner. He broke into a run.

The two men cursed and ran after him.

His flat was in sight! Safety!

But the men were too fast for him, tackling him on the steps of his own building.

They struggled violently.

"Hold him still! Damn it, hold him still!" said the smaller of the two.

"I'm trying! I'm trying!" the second larger man said. "You know you’re just making this hard on yourself!" he growled at Rene.

The large mans face hardened. "Fuck this. You want it hard? You got it."

The man's fist rocketed out, slamming Rene in the gut.

Some of the fight went out of him but he continued to struggle.

"Help! Help me! Aidez moi!"

The smaller man pulled a device resembling a small, handheld camera out of his pocket.

He held it in front of Rene's face.

It began strobing beautiful, multicolored flashes into his eyes.

He tried to look away...but found he could not! His gaze was fixed on the lightshow.

His limbs began to slacken.

"That’s right, friend," he said soothingly. "Look at the pretty lights. Nothing to be afraid of."

The look of wonderment became a look of horror, as if he were seeing or remembering something too terrible for words.

"No!...noooooo...!"

Presently he fainted.

The men left Rene lying on the steps as they straightened their suits.

"I tell you, it gets harder each time. I hate these missions." said the large man.

"Belay that talk, trooper." said the smaller man. "I think he's coming around."

Rene struggled to his feet. He looked about in shock as if he'd just awoken from a dream...or a nightmare.

The two men snapped to attention, their postures formal.

"Where...what...?"

"You are the Imperial assassin, codenamed 'Baker'. We are with Imperial Naval Intelligence. Our orders were to 'reactivate' you via Strobe."

Rene's eyes hardened.

"Sorry about the rough treatment, sir." said the large man, patting Rene on the shoulder. "Just following orders." he said with a wicked grin. "No hard feelings?"

"Non. I mean, no, of course not, trooper." he replied, smiling.

Then, almost faster than the eye can see, Rene's fist lashed out like a cobra.It connected with the larger mans mid section, bringing him to his knees.

Rene lit a cigarette, towering over the crumpled man at his feet.

"Now, troopers...tell me." he said flicking his ash. "Who do they want me to kill?"

"Stroboscopic mnemonic alteration or 'strobing' first came into Imperial use after the Second War of Succession. It was shown that soldiers returning home from campaign suffered from post traumatic stress. 'Strobing' was used to remove the horrific memories of war, sensitive military data, and sometimes an entire military career. The medical field has used this technology to help treat certain mental illnesses brought on by trauma. The transition from soldier to citizen became almost instantaneous. There have been stories of memories being forcibly returned or artificial memories being induced but so far these have proven to be just fables. If only these stories were true! Just imagine what possibilities there could be for education or training! However, no hard concrete data exists to correlate these 'urban myths'." -Prelate Agriphon, Imperial Medical College. 'Lectures on practical stroboscopy'.

The Return of the Man In Black Pt. I

2005-09-14T22:39:00.000-07:00

The planet Altairius Prime, headquarters of the Grand Inquisition. A male choir can be heard chanting, it echoes throughout the towered fortress-monastery complex. A brown-robed functionary brother makes his way down the vaulted stone corridors to the offices of the Grand Inquisitor.

He waited outside the immense wooden doors where two large power armored troopers stood like statues. One of them turned and stated "His Holiness will grant you audience now, brother."

As the functionary passed the guard hissed sotto voce "Keep it brief! He is in a foul mood today!"

"When is he not?" thought the brother, but quickly shooed the thought from his mind as unworthy.

The inner chamber was dimly lit by glowglobes, a cloying incense assaulted his nostrils.

The brother entered and knelt on one knee, head bowed.

He trembled. "I am standing less than a meter from the most dangerous man in the Empire." he thought.

"Arise, brother. And report." intoned the Grand Inquisitor.

"Your holiness...I bring distressing news. The Temporal Authority has failed to apprehend the being Thousand Sons."

The Grand Inquisitor frowned. In a dead voice he asked simply "Why?"

The brother cleared his throat. "The officer assigned, Darloch Khentari, has apparently gone native. No further sign of him has been found."

"And the Authority? Have they been made...aware of Our displeasure?"

The brother shuddered at the memory. "Yes, milord. They have repented their error."

"Hmmm. And where is this Khentari now?"

"On Earth, milord. Where Thousand Sons is currently."

"Pfah! Earth." spat the Grand Inquisitor. "The very name is like an epithet upon my tongue! Would that we could perform an Exterminatus upon that globe and cleanse it! Fie upon the Treaty!" he said slamming his fist on his desk.

The brother said nothing, but swallowed hard. "There is more, milord. There is word of a demon loose on the planet. It plays at being human, but is truly an undead creature. It appears as male or female at will. Somehow it is tied into this as well."

The Grand Inquisitor's eyes narrowed. "This cannot be borne."

He folded his hands together. "Send Inquisitor Essington Streck to deal with this situation."

The brother blanched briefly at the name. "Streck...milord?"

"Aye. Streck. He is our finest Inquistor. He will not be swayed by that planets filthy ways."

The brother bowed deeply and made to leave.

"Oh, and brother?" asked the Grand Inquisitor.

The brother froze mid step.

"I am always in a foul mood." said the Grand Inquisitor. "Pray you do not make it fouler upon your return."

The brother sputtered and scurried away.

---

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom on Altarius Prime this time of year.

Streck had waited patiently for this day, wanting to savor springtime in its fullest.

Streck was a man of middle years, neither young nor old. Powerfully built and barrel chested.

He sat outside at an easel ruminating about the landscape, stroking his close cropped grey beard. His large hand delicately lifted his paint brush with obvious dexterity. He winced slighty, disappointed, as he saw the brown-robed functionary walking towards him.

"I am summoned again, brother?" he rumbled. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, Brother Inquisitor. Your orders are in this dossier."

The functionary handed Streck a black leather packet bearing the silver seal of the Inquisition.

Streck looked at it and nodded. "Thank you brother. Begone now." he said, waving the brother away.

Cherry blossoms fluttered down like confetti in the air.

Streck closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "So." he exhaled.

He looked wistfully at his empty canvas.

"Another day, old friend."

New Orleans Rain

2005-09-01T12:08:00.000-07:00

My prayers go out to New Orleans and everyone affected by Hurricane Katrina.
It's just breaking my heart watching the news lately.
I found this blues song to be very appropriate for how I'm feeling.
If anyones got the right to sing the blues now, its New Orleans...

New Orleans Rain-by Doug Duffey

New Orleans rain
Keeps pourin' down
Imagine my tears
As it falls to the ground

I'm all alone
In the heart of the town
Longin' for someone
Who dont come around

New orleans rain
Falls like my tears
Y'know these tears I been cryin'
I been cryin' for years

But the sound of the raindrops
About to drive me insane
And all I hear is the sound
Of the New Orleans rain

Y'know the thunder and lightnin'
Rock this gloomy ol' place
I cry out when its frightnin'
The tears roll down my face yeah

And when the heartaches get heavy
Ragin' out of control
Theres a hurricane blowin'
In the depths of my soul

New orleans rain
Poundin' the roof
Like my poor heart is poundin'
And these tears are the proof

That a man can't help cryin'
When he's sufferin in pain
All alone in New Orleans
Yeah, in the New Orleans rain

Y'know the thunder and lightnin'uh huh
Rock this gloomy ol' place
I cry out when its frightnin' yeah
The tears roll down my face

Now when the heartaches get heavy
Ragin' out of control
There's a hurricane blowin'
In the depths of my soul

I said New Orleans rain
O Lord
Pounds on my roof
Like my poor heart is poundin'

And these tears are the proof
That a man cant help cryin' no no
When he's sufferin' in pain
All alone in New Orleans
Yeah in the New Orleans rain
I said I cant help cryin' yeah
in the New Orleans rain
Yeah.

That ol' familiar blues...

2005-08-23T00:46:00.000-07:00

"The blues get under your skin and choke you up something fierce, eh?"
-Floranista

Oh my yes.

I've loved the blues for a long time.

About Otis Rush: He's a Chicago blues man, but born in Mississippi and influenced by the Delta blues. The version of 'Double Trouble' I have is a cover by The Paul Butterfield Blues Band.
I should also note that the quote about the blues from my previous post comes from legendary blues man Leon Redbone's 'That Old Familiar Blues'. I've been listening to his album 'Up A Lazy River' a lot lately.

I missed an opportunity to see Stevie Ray Vaughn in 1990, a month before he passed away. I found out about his passing literally minutes after my then girlfriend dumped me. She spelled out in great detail why we couldn't stay together, that we would always be friends, etc. It was exhausting, but hey, I couldn't argue. She was right.

When I hung up the phone, I turned on the radio.
I heard three SRV songs back to back.
I felt better...until they said "Stevie Ray Vaughn. 1954-1990."

And, baby, if that ain't the blues then I don't know what is.

One Year Ago...

2005-08-23T00:29:00.000-07:00

I started this blog one year ago today.

Wow. I can't believe it's really been a year!

It's been a lot of fun, having my own little corner of the Internet.

Thanks to everyone who has visited.

I hope the next year will bring more frequent posting and better stuff.

Stay tuned!

The Blues

2005-08-18T14:29:00.000-07:00

"Better not stop, you gotta keep rollin'
Seems to me there's somethin' worth knowin'
the blues ain't nothin' but a good man feelin' bad... "

Double Trouble -Otis Rush

I lay awake at night
can't sleep just so troubled
It's hard to keep a job,
laid off and havin' double trouble
Hey, they say you can make it if you try
Yes, in this generation of millionaires,
it's hard for me to keep decent clothes to wear

You laughed at me walkin' baby,
when I had no place to go
Bad luck and trouble have taken me,
I have got no money to show
Hey, hey, to make it you've got to try, baby, that's no lie
Yes, in this generation of millionaires,
it's hard for me to keep decent clothes to wear

Slow Dog (redux)

2005-08-04T11:00:00.000-07:00

My favorite episdode of Futurama is "Jurassic Bark".

The one where Fry wants to clone his dog back from the dead.

It always makes me cry, just a little.

Ok. A lot.

That episode always gets to me.

It reminds me of my dog. He was always with me when I was growing up. Like Seymour, he was a mutt, a stray. He was my friend when no one else was. When the world was against me, he was there. In the end, I moved away and my mom did too. I couldnt take him and neither could she. So he was put down.

At the time it felt...unfair somehow.

I felt he deserved better.

Looking back now, I've found another perspective.

He had a good life and he was loved.

Thats all he ever wanted.

Jesus....dont we all?....

Update:

I've noticed from my Statcounter that many people find my page because of the phrase

"For a thousand summers I will wait for you"

I can only assume you were touched by that song in the end of the Futurama episode too!

So here is the 411 on the song...

The song is "I Will Wait For You" by Andy Williams.
English Words by Norman Gimbel and Music by Michel Legrand
Its from the 1964 film "The Umbrellas Of Cherbourg".
I believe the version used in the Futurama episode was by Connie Francis.

"If it takes forever I will wait for you
For a thousand summers I will wait for you
Till you're back beside me, till I'm holding you
Till I hear you sigh here in my arms

Anywhere you wander, anywhere you go
Every day remember how I love you so
In your heart believe what in my heart I know
That forevermore I'll wait for you

The clock will tick away the hours one by one
Then the time will come when all the waiting's done
The time when you return and find me here and run
Straight to my waiting arms

If it takes forever I will wait for you
For a thousand summers I will wait for you
Till you're here beside me, till I'm touching you
And forevermore sharing your love"

Bridge

2005-07-28T15:42:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone!

I added some photos to my Thousand Sons Photo Blog at Buzznet.

The Tacoma Narrows Bridge has been, well, an icon of the Northwest. I've driven over it countless times. So imagine my surprise when I saw two new towers arrogantly jutting up from the water! I cant wait till the new bridge is built. I love bridges. It always amazes me at what people can accomplish and build!

Musical Chairs

2005-07-13T02:27:00.000-07:00

"The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules."
-High Fidelity

This is my tag to all of you. I want to know..

1. The total number of albums you own.
2. The last album you bought.
3. The last song you listened to today.
4. Five albums that mean a lot to you.

I'll start the ball rolling. Waaaaay back in the day, I managed a record store. So I listen to some, shall we say, eclectic stuff. I'll try to keep it simple for starters.

1. The total number of albums you own.
I own a lot of cd's and a smattering of vinyl. I once owned something like a zillion, but it got whittled down in the lean mid Nineties. (1 used cd = $5, 2 burgers at BK for $2. Do the math.) Lately I've been transferring them all to mp3 on my computer to save room and scratches.

2. The last album you bought.
Aha Shake Heartbreak -Kings of Leon
This is a killer album. Highly recommended.

3. The last song you listened to today.
As of posting: Ocho Mambo -Gypsy Kings

4. Five albums that mean a lot to you.

"Time" -Electric Light Orchestra
This was the first album I ever owned. I got it for my birthday in 1981. I've always been a sucker for ELO since. "Rain is Falling" is my favorite track, and "21st Century Man".

"Though you ride on the wheels of tomorrow
You still wander the fields of your sorrow.
What will it bring?"
"Warning: Live Jumbies" -Jumbalassy
Jumbalassy was a local reggae/soca/dancehall group here in Seattle. Few people outside the Northwest have probably heard of them, but this album meant a lot to me. Reggae saved my life. It really did.

"Dreamboat Annie" -Heart
More loyalty from me to a local band! "Soul of the Sea" makes me choke up a little. This album reminds me of walking on the beach at Alki Point with my old friend, Nasir.

"Time, time, time, time
Never ask what's become of us
Just dedicate your sorrow
Here and now
To the soul of the sea
And me..."

Without Mercy -The Durutti Column
Ethereal music from Britain. It isnt easily definable, which is what I like. Kind of trance, kind of lush, kind of electronica...but it pre-dates all those styles. I can put it on and relax, carried along by beautiful music.

Misplaced Childhood -Marillion
I have a special memory of every early Marillion album, but this was the first one I ever heard. Me dear ol' Ma, she had a friend who was a new waver in the 80's. The winter of 1990 he brought over all his old vinyl and this was one of them. I've loved it ever since. My most special memory was of taking Ms. Sabine to see Marillion's ex lead singer Fish perform. He never tours the US anymore, so it was a once in a lifetime. I remember holding her close as he sang:

"I was walking in the park dreaming of a spark
When I heard the sprinklers whisper
Shimmer in the haze of summer lawns
Then I heard the children singing
They were running through the rainbows
They were singing a song for you
Well it seemed to be a song for you
The one I wanted to write for you,
For you."

Once in a lifetime.

I'm always walking in the park, always dreaming of a spark.

For you.

There are more albums that mean a lot to me. A lot more. But we have to start somewhere, eh?

Tagged!

2005-06-05T14:24:00.000-07:00

Meh!

That Zorkie woman tagged me!

And everyone reading this is tagged as well! Arrrr, fairly warned be ye, says I.

Now you have to tell the world:

1. The total number of books you own.
2. The last book you bought.
3. The last book you read.
4. Five books that mean a lot to you.

Alright, where do we begin...

1. The total number of books I own.

Oh my, not sure. I have a pretty sizable library, several hundred I'm sure. I have a gigantic collection of science fiction/ fantasy paperbacks I got from my 'maternal unit' ;-) . Plenty of non-fiction and reference too. And if we count comic books (and we should) its even more.

2. The last book I bought.

The Power of Place: How Our Surroundings Shape Our Thoughts, Emotions, and Actions by Winifred Gallagher

3. The last book I read.

Kind of a hard question. At any given time I have a system of books orbiting around me. I like to reread old books and work new ones into rotation here and there.

The Santaroga Barrier by Frank Herbert was the most recent one today. Previously it was Earth Book of Stormgate by Poul Anderson.

4. Five books that mean a lot to me.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas -Hunter Thompson

Love him or hate him, Hunter Thompson left a mark on American literature. I have one rule when buying books: If it makes me laugh out loud (literally) then I must buy it. This is one of the few that has. It also reminds me of an old friend of mine and a similarly shameful weekend in Vancouver:

"You cant seat yourself! Didnt you see the sign?" yelled the waitress.
"Sign?! What sign?! I didnt see no fucking sign! TS, did you see a goddam sign?"
TS shrugs. "Nope. No goddam sign."
"There you have it." said Mr. Thrasher, gesturing wildly. "No goddam sign."
TS frowned. "Fuck this. Lets get a McMuffin."

Shameful.

Ball Four -Jim Bouton

When it was first published this book caused quite a scandal! Back then, baseball was like a religion and its players were sacrosanct. By todays standards its quite mild, but it touched off a firestorm in 1970. Bouton was banned from Old Timers Day at Yankee Stadium for nearly thirty years because of this book. Thankfully he finally got his day in 1998. A baseball book, but not just for baseball fans.

1,000 Reasons To Be Happy -David Baird

This was given to me by someone who wanted me to be happy. Nuff said.

Dark Blue Suit -Peter Bacho

From The New York Times Book Review, Anderson Tepper:
A middle-aged Philippine-American son pauses thoughtfully at a cluster of graves in a Seattle cemetery: alongside the body of his enigmatic father lie several other colorful characters from the same generation of Philippine immigrants who came to America in the 1920's and 30's.... In rough-hewn and wistful style, Bacho's stories bring to life the hardscrabble years of the first wave of migrant laborers--and capture as well the ambivalence of their American-born children, who come of age during the 1960's. Throughout these tales of embattled lives, there is the reminder of the original immigrants' dream--shiny blue suits, but worn and faded over time.

This really struck a chord with me and my dad. He loaned it to me a while back. The author is the same generation as my dad and my dad had similar stories about growing up here. For all that we know about Grandpa and the Old Country, much remains an enigma.

"Like our fathers before us we've eyes for America
Dream of a new life on foreign shores
(But) wherever we go we'll always know
That the land we stand on is never our own"
-Fish 'Internal Exile'

The Sparrow -Mary Doria Russell

This was given to me by a dear friend. Its an interesting mix of science fiction, religion, philosophy, God and humanity. It breaks your heart and lifts it up again.

The Serendipity Books -Stephen Cosgrove
Okay. This is actually a series of books that means a lot to me. There were a whole slew of 'em when I was a kid, but the ones that stick out in my memory are: Cap'n Smudge, The Gnome from Nome, Serendipity, Wheedle on the Needle, and the Muffin Dragon. These were written by Stephen Cosgrove and illustrated by Robin James in the early 70's. They were fun little paperback fantasy stories with a subtle little message in each one. They were also an integral part of my Northwest childhood. Long time Northwesterners will remember the Wheedle was the Seattle Supersonics mascot for a number of years! I still have them all. I wonder if they're worth anything now? Doesnt matter, I'd never sell them!

The Stars -by H.A. Rey
My first book on the cosmos and constellations. This book is great for readers of any age. I remember my grandpa teaching me my first constellations: The Big Dipper, The Little Dipper, and Cassiopeia. The galaxy I'm associated with, M101, is in the Big Dipper. I remember those summer nights going out in the field with this book and my walkman. I could listen to music and stare at the night sky forever.

Ok, so thats more than five. ::shrugs::

Post Scriptum

I also need to include Sandmans "Season of Mists" to Books That Mean A Lot To Me. I read it when I was going through my own season of mists in 1992, or what has been colloquially dubbed the 'Winter of Darkness'. Thankfully the spring thaw helped bring me out of it. And also, strangely enough, the Beatles 'Abbey Road' album helped as well. Long story, but as Floranista said "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

05/12/74 - 05/28/04

2005-05-28T17:44:00.000-07:00

Death is eternity.

Eternity is stone.

Stone is silence.

Stone cannot speak but stone remembers.

It is immortality of a sort...

Filler part 3

2005-05-16T16:29:00.000-07:00

More filler for the blogging grist mill.

You know, this would be a lot easier if I had a thousand monkeys instead of a thousand sons!

With monkeys I'd probably have Shakespere by now instead of this drivel.

Just be thankful this is a blog and not a crummy live journal, okay?!

You'd get stuff like this:

Current Music: Ride on Shooting Star, The Pillows
Current Mood: Perky! ^-^

Bah! This is a quality blog! I cannot stress that enough!

Filler part 2

2005-05-16T16:26:00.000-07:00

And yet more filler to keep the posts flowing!

Is it working yet?

Do I feel the blazing fury again?

Gah! I dont know!

Lets try one more time...

Filler

2005-05-16T16:23:00.000-07:00

Heres some filler to get the blog wheels moving again.

Maybe it will inspire me to actually write something interesting!

Meh. Probably not. But who knows?

Good Day

2005-05-04T01:06:00.000-07:00

For Miz. Sabine.

She left us all; too soon and too young:

Good day
doesn't have to be a Friday
Doesn't need to be your birthday
The next one then you won't survive
Sing along
hold my life
A good day is any day that you're alive
Yes a good day is any day that you're alive

Last May
mmmm, you had to ask me
In your dreams you tell me
Tell 'em only you were tired
Sing along
hold my life
A good day is any day that you're alive
Yeah, a good day is any day that you're alive

A bad day comes every once in awhile your body says
Fourteen hundred shooting stars and every time
A bad day comes every once
in your body life
Goodbye...

Hold my life
one last time...
A good day is any day that you're alive
Yes a good day is any day that you're alive
Yes a good day is any day that you're alive
These are the days...

-lyrics by Paul Westerberg

Yeah

2005-04-15T10:21:00.000-07:00

There was only one road back to L.A.
US Interstate 15
just a flat-out high speed burn through
Baker and Barstow and Berdoo.
Then on to the Hollywood Freeway straight into frantic oblivion: safety, obscurity.
Just another freak in the Freak Kingdom.
We'd gone in search of the American Dream.
It had been a lame fuck around, a waste of time.
There was no point in looking back.
Fuck no, not today thank you kindly!
My heart was filled with joy.
I felt like a monster reincarnation of Horatio Alger:
a man on the move, and just sick enough to be totally confident.

-Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Easter

2005-03-27T10:23:00.000-08:00

A ghost of a mist was on the field
The grey and the green together
The noise of a distant farm machine
Out of the first light came

A tattered necklace of hedge end trees
On the southern side of the hill
Betrays where the border runs between
Where Mary Dunoon's boy fell

Easter here again, a time for the blind to see
Easter, surely now can all of your hearts be free?

Out of the port of Liverpool
Bound for the North of Ireland
The wash of the spray and horsetail waves
The roll of the sea below

And Easter here again, a time for the blind to see
Easter, surely now can all of your hearts be free?

What will you do?
Make a stone of your heart?
Will you set things right?
When you tear them apart?
Will you sleep at night?
With the plough and the stars alight?

Hey! What will you do?
With the wire and the gun?
That'll set things right
When it's said and done?
Will you sleep at night?
Is there so much love to hide?

Forgive...
Forget...
Sing "Never again."

-Marillion

Rest

2005-03-27T09:39:00.000-08:00

Scene: a small bar somewhere in Southeast Asia. It burgeons with more patrons then it has seen in years. The Man in Black detaches himself from the crowd for a moment to get a drink.

"Good heavens. Who are all these people, Mr Sons?" asks the bartender.

"Friends of mine, Jimmy." replies the Man in Black. They wanted a little r&r. Away from the maddening din of conflict, if you know what I mean."

Jimmy clapped excitedly. "Well, any friends of yours are friends of mine, Mr. Sons! They are welcome here any time as long as they behave themselves. Otherwise Goro will have words with them."

In the corner of the bar stood something that resembled a shaved gorilla in a tuxedo. It cracked its knuckes and grinned evilly at the Man in Black.

"Ulp! No, I think everyone will behave themselves."

Jimmy beamed. "Excellent. Scotch on the rocks, sir?"

"Yeah, make it a double..."

Astronomy Domine

2005-03-13T23:43:00.000-08:00

Time for your amateur astronomy lesson for the week, dear children.

That groovy galaxy I've come to be associated with is none other than M101, also known as the Pinwheel Galaxy. It's a very large spiral galaxy, twice as wide as the Milky Way. Its a relatively close at about 22 million light years away. It resides in the constellation of Ursa Major or the Big Dipper.

I have a personal affinity for the Big Dipper. It's the first constellation I ever learned. I loved the stars even as a kid, but didn't know from constellations. I remember my grandfather taking me outside one summer night. "Here's an easy one to find," he said. "Look up there, over the trees. See those stars? Thats the Big Dipper. Over there, those stars that look like a big 'W'? Thats Cassiopeia..."

Since then, I've learned lots of constellations. But I always come back to the Big Dipper, my first constellation. Where my galaxy and my heart call home...out amongst the stars.

Atlas Image courtesy of 2MASS/UMass/IPAC-Caltech/NASA/NSF.

No myth

2005-03-01T09:35:00.000-08:00

"Sometime from now you'll bow to pressure
some things in life you cannot measure by degrees.
I'm between the poles and the equator
don't send no private investigator to find me please
'less he speaks Chinese
and can dance like Astaire overseas..."

-Michael Penn

The Man In Black

2005-02-20T21:16:00.000-08:00

"Six days ago my life had taken a tumble
The orders came from high above they say
A need to use me once again they've got my number
Further the cause boy; yes you know the game..."
-Queensryche 'The Mission'

I am known by many names, many faces. Today I am known as Thousand Sons. I got the call, I accepted the job. I knew the risks. I knew this target would be...difficult. I also knew that this mission required my special skills. Someone bailed him out at the last second before. But I'm in it to win it now. I will bring this demon to ground, no matter the cost.

A demon, you say? Yes, a demon who plays at being a man. He has lived a long, unnatural life at others expense. They have been feeding his existence, perhaps unknowingly. I'm sitting here at my favorite bar, waiting for my contacts to ferret him out. Hopefully it won’t be long, but who knows? I will wait as long as it takes to find this demon. I will have my vengeance upon him and claim my bounty.

------------------------------

A man in a black silk kimono sits at a table on the veranda of his island mansion.

Today he's enjoying the sunrise.

There are dark storm clouds looming on the horizon bringing texture to the sky.

A woman wearing a matching kimono steps out onto the veranda.

"Dear? I had the servants make some coffee, would you like some?"

"Yes, I would. Thank you, hon."

The woman strides out to the table and takes a seat opposite of the man.

The servants bring out a silver coffee service and a silver ashtray.

The man takes a Silk Cut out of an ornate cigarette case while the servants pour their coffee.

He lights it, taking a long drag and exhaling before sipping his black coffee.

"Ahhhh. Best part of the day."

"Wow, look at those clouds." she says. "Do you think there will be a storm, Fred?"

"Oh, most certainly." he replies.

The man takes another sip.

"He is coming, you know."

"Thousand Sons? Here?! How do you know?"

"I just know."

"Maybe not...maybe he's given up." she says hopefully.

Fred chuckles.

"I doubt that. Not that one. What will he say when he finds out you stiffed him on my contract?"

The woman freezes in mid sip. A chill runs down her spine.

"You...know about that?" she asks quietly.

Fred smiles. "Of course, my dear."

"You're not angry?"

"No. If I thought you had the least chance of success, maybe I would. But I cannot be killed, my love." he says stroking her hair.

His eyes narrow.

"I did not know he would claim the Blade though. That...complicates things."

"Couldn’t you...you know..." she makes a hand gesture wiggling her fingers.

Fred frowns.

"Magic? Pfah. If only I could. Magic doesn’t work on Thousand Sons or people like him."

"But what is he, Fred?" she asks.

"I don’t know, Sojourner." he sighs. "I doubt even he knows himself."

There is a crackle of lightning in the distance, a distant roil of thunder.

"He will be here soon. That is enough for now."

-------------------------------------------
My cel phone buzzes like an angry wasp; my contact has made a discovery!

"At last." I whisper.

I flip the face open. "Go."

"I have the coordinates," says a voice with a heavy Israeli accent. "I'm emailing them to you as we speak."

"What about photos?" I ask.

"Satellite intel of the island is on its way too."

"Excellent, I owe you one 'Death Ray'. You're the best."

"My pleasure. I have a live feed of the fortress on my screen now. The target is drinking coffee and having a smoke outside.

There is an awful hum of energy in the background.

"Suborbital platform is primed. Say the word; I'll turn him off like a light."

I shake my head.

"No need for that, I doubt it would work on him anyway. Besides, now it’s personal."

"Roger that. Over and out."

*click*

An island fortress means supplies have to be shipped in.

After visiting a few dockland 'associates' I find the junk destined for Fred's island.

I slip aboard unnoticed, I have that talent.

I hide out in the cargo hold.

Man, I'm starving! I haven’t had a bite since...yesterday? The day before?

Fred is a man of appetites, surely there's something edible down here.

I open the nearest barrel.

"Potatoes." I say with disgust.

Bah!

"Why'd it have to be potatoes?"

Personally I hate the dirty things.

Vile.

Contemptable.

My stomach growls.

...

...

"Dammit." I curse, stuffing one in my mouth.

----------------------------------------------------------

The junk pulls into port in the early evening. I slip out down the dock.

A storm has followed us here; it’s beginning to rain slightly.

I make my way up the hill to the mansion. The guards never see me. With any luck, I can just slip in and finish this.

I'm sneaking my way across the darkened courtyard when...

Floodlights!

"Ahhhh...Mr Sons!" booms a voice from a balcony overhead. "So good to see you!"

Fred!

"Did you really think you could waltz your way into my fortress and leave like the wind?" asks Fred.

I give him the one fingered victory salute.

"That was the general idea, yes."

"Well, I'm afraid I have to disabuse you of that notion." he says.

A wave of his hand and dozens of hired goons spill into the courtyard surrounding me.

"I think you luck has run out, my old friend."

*clap clap*

"Kill him!"

Fred retreats back inside.

The mob begins pacing, circling like sharks, waiting for an opening.

I laugh.

"Fools. Don't you know who you are dealing with?"

I draw Thread-Killer Blade. It hisses like a coiled serpent, waiting to strike.

"I am known by many names, my blade is known by many more."

I assume a defensive stance.

"Some you are worthy to hear. Some you are not."

Jeers from the goons rattling their weapons.

"This will be the last name you will ever hear."

The sky opens up, the storm has begun in earnest.

"I..am...Thousand Sons!"

The fury in the sky will be nothing compared to mine!

-------------------
Fred closes the balcony door, drawing the curtains.

He retreats quickly across the house to the master bedroom.

Sojourner is sipping heated brandy by the fireplace.

"Dear? What is all that commotion outside? It sounds like the end of the world."

"Thousand Sons is here. We have to go...now."

"Go? Go where?" she asks. "There's a storm battering the island! We can’t fly out of here!"

"To the veranda, down the stairs to the marina. We'll be safe on the yacht. Go!"

Fred steps outside first, making sure the coast is clear. The rain is pouring down now.

He laughs up at the sky. "Do your worst, o storms! Don’t you know I'm unstoppable?"

A crash of thunder. A voice like nails on a chalkboard answers in reply.

"Fred!!"

A dark figure holding a sword across the veranda is silhouetted in the rain against the flash of lightning.

"No! It can’t be!" Fred screams. "You can’t have dispatched all of my minions!"

Slowly, methodically, like some terra cotta warrior brought to life, Thousand Sons advances on Fred.

The blade howls. The mans visage is grim.

"Demon, you have plagued this world long enough. You have distracted our minds with your madness far too long! With this blade, I will end you tonight!"

A woman dashes outside between the combatants.

"Noooo! Fred! Keep away from him!" she screams, shielding Fred from the killing blow.

"What the hell?! Sojourner?! What are you doing here? Our contract..."

"Is null and void!" she cries. "I cancel your contract."

He continues to advance.

"It’s not that easy, woman. Now get out of my way!"

She stands defiant.

"No! I...I love him!"

A look of utter disbelief. "What?! You...love him?" he bellows. "Him? This one has plagued the world for so long! He has laid waste wherever he goes, an undead monster! That’s who you love?"

"It’s true!" she nods. "All of it! But you don’t know him like I do. I'm the one who piloted that helicopter and saved him from you last time!" said Sojourner.

"You're also the one who put the hit out on him as well." says Thousand Sons with a bitter smile. "Have you forgotten?"

She shakes her head. "Things are different now. That seems like so long ago." "All we want now is to be left alone, in peace. Is that so much to ask?"

It’s too much for Thousand Sons to take in, too much to process all at once. Sojourner and...Fred?!

"Its true, TS." says Fred. "I do love her. In all my undead existence, there's never been another like her. With her I feel...alive. And I want to live with her, here on my island. Troubling the world no more."

The sword shudders and snarls, begging to be unleashed.

"Kill them!" it cries. "Kill them both and be done with it!"

Slowly, very slowly he sheathes the sword and performs a bow.

Fred and Sojourner look on in amazement.

"That’s...it? You're giving up? Why?"

There is a long pause.

Thousand Sons takes off his sunglasses.

The rain runs rivulets down his face, hiding the tears.

"Love," he says quietly, "no matter how small, must be protected. I have searched this world for it myself."

He shakes his head. "It is most elusive."

He turns formally on heel and begins to walk away into the rain.

Sojourner calls to him, "Thousand Sons...?"

He pauses...only for a moment, not looking back.

Then continues on...

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Scene: A dark jazz bar somewhere in Southeast Asia. The walls are black, the air smokey. A ceiling fan beats incessantly in a futile attempt to cool the humid, tropical air. The sax player plays a mournful tune, full of sorrow. A tall man in black enters, carrying a bundle wrapped in black silk. He takes a seat at the bar.

"Ahhhh...Mr Sons! Good to see you again! Everything go well?"

"Hello, Jimmy. Well enough."

He places a bill on the bar. "Pack of Red Apples, please?"

The bartender pushes the currency back.

"Your moneys no good here, Mr. Sons." he says with a smile. "You know that."

The bartender hands him a pack of cigarettes.

The man takes a cigarette out, lights it.

"Thank you, Jimmy. Scotch on the rocks, please."

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Sons. Our freezer is still broken again. No ice!" he said smiling. "I am most vexed with the repairman. Unfortunately, he's my brother in law."

"Alright then. Neat, please."

"Very good, sir."

The bartender walks past the displayed bottles and pulls one out from the back.

It appears to be very old, the label peeling with age.

He uncorks it and pours it into a glass.

The man in black starts to take a sip, but puts it back down.

He walks over to the front of the stage, beckoning the sax player.

The music stops.

The man in black puts a bill of unspecified denomination in the tip jar.

"Hey, Tequila." he says. "Play me a song. Something about love lost and found. Something melancholy, but pretty and hopeful at the same time."

Sax player smiles.

"Sounds like someone got dem ol' 'Blade Runner Blues' again." he says, picking up the tune.

The man in black closes his eyes and smiles, reminiscing.

"Yeah."

He takes a drag off his cigarette.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

-Fade to black-

Interlude with Jazz

2005-02-16T17:25:00.000-08:00

Scene: A dark jazz bar somewhere in Southeast Asia. The walls are black, the air smokey. A ceiling fan beats incessantly in a futile attempt to cool the humid, tropical air. The sax player plays a mournful tune, full of sorrow. A tall man in black enters, carrying a bundle wrapped in black silk. He takes a seat at the bar.

"Ahhhh...Mr Sons! Good to see you again!"
"Hello Jimmy."He places a bill on the bar. "Pack of Red Apples, please?"
The bartender pushes the currency back.
"Your moneys no good here, Mr Sons." he says with a smile. "You know that." The bartender hands him a pack of cigarettes.
The man takes a cigarette out, lights it.
"Thank you, Jimmy. Scotch on the rocks, please."
"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Sons. Our freezer is broken again. No ice!" he said smiling again.
"Alright then. Neat, please."
"Very good, sir."
The bartender walks past the displayed bottles and pulls one out from the back. It appears to be very old, the label peeling with age. He uncorks it and pours it into a glass.
The man in black takes a sip.
He lets out a sigh, long and weary.
The bartender looks quizzically at him. "Is everything okay, Mr Sons?"
The man peers over his sunglasses.
*Sigh* "No...no its not, Jimmy."
"Oh my, sir. Can you tell me about it?"
"Heh. Sort of. Tell me, Jimmy; do you know what evil is?"
Jimmy crosses himself. "Well...I suppose its a wrongness, sir. Something bad...or doing bad things, I guess."
"Well said, Jimmy. Now suppose you had a chance to stop the wrongness? To stop the bad thing and keep it from continuing to poison people? Would you do it?"
Jimmy nods. "Oh, absolutely, sir!"
"Now suppose you were thwarted at the last minute. To have your opportunity snatched away. Now all you can do is keep watching the evil unfold, continuing to poison the world, turning people against each other. How would you feel?"
Jimmy quirks his lip. "That would make me sad, I suppose. Quite sad."
The man in black swirls his finger in his drink, his brow furled.
"Yes...yes, I think you're right, Jimmy. Sad."
The bartender wipes a dirty glass, frowning slightly. He looks thoughtfully at the man in black.
"Mr. Sons?"
"Yes?"
"This reminds me of something my grandfather once told me. 'Jiang,' he said 'There will always be conflict in this world and in people too. Sometimes you can fight it, sometimes you cannot. Sometimes you'll see friends caught up in conflict, strive against each other. Sometimes its best to not get involved, let the conflict burn itself out. Your contribution will only fuel the fire, keep it going."
The man in black stares at his glass, not looking up. "What then? What is one supposed to do?"
"He said 'During the battle, take comfort in small pleasures. When it's over, take time to heal before fighting again.'"
The man in black smiles slightly.
"Was your grandfather a holy man or a warrior, Jimmy?"
"Oh, no sir!" Jimmy scoffs. "He was a bartender...like me!"
The man in black laughs, the first time he has laughed in days.
"I'll be back in a moment, Mr. Sons. I need to check on the
dishwasher, he's been nothing but trouble since he got here!"
"No worries, Jimmy."
The bartender slips thru a curtain to the kitchen. A light stream of two voices cursing in Mandarin and English softly wafts out to the bar.
The silk wrapped bundle shimmers momentarily.
"Yes, I know." The man says to the bundle. "They are close."
The bundle shimmers again.
"We'll see. Who knows what will happen?"
The bundle shimmers brightly, impatiently.
"I could explain it to you in detail, but why would you understand? You have a heart of metal, after all. Do yourself a favor; dont ever change that. Its better that way."
The sword shimmers dimmly, insulted.
"What the hell do you know about love? Or friendship for that matter?"
There is a shimmering retort.
"Ouch. Good point. Thanks for turning that around on me."
A phone begins buzzing in the mans pocket. He takes it out, looking at the caller ID.
His eyes narrow at the display.
"At last." he whispers.

Beyond the Sea

2005-02-13T10:19:00.000-08:00

A man in a light green suit with a purple rose in his lapel stands on the end of a pier in Hong Kong. He stares out to the sea, as if searching for something.
A tall, decisive man in black slowly walks up the length of the pier behind him.
Without turning, the man in light green says:
"So. It is you."
The man in black says nothing, standing motionless.
The green man nervously lights up a cigarette. He takes a drag.
"I hoped it would be you, old friend," he says. The others...they dont understand do they?"
The man in black remains silent.
"But you...ohhh you understand all too well!"
The man in light green takes another drag.
"All movement in the universe is caused by tension between positive and negative furies."
He pauses to smell the rose.
"When the furies are out of balance, then people turn into demons and live forever. A ghost of evil who exists only to plague the living."
The man in black says nothing.
"Man is not meant to be immortal," he continues. "It is the finite which gives our existence here meaning! Without that, we lose something. Something precious."
The wind picks up, but the man in black still remains silent.
"I've...done things." says the green man. He has a haunted look in his eyes. "Unspeakable things. I've...hurt people, said things maybe I shouldnt have. But I've lived too! And loved! Do you understand that?! Who is truly the demon here?!"
Still, the man in black remains silent.
The man in light green eyes the sword at the tall mans side.
"I see you have bested Shang Long, your old master. You carry the Blade."
The tall man in black tenses slightly.
The man in light green takes a long drag off his cigarette and flicks it away.
"So...who is it now? 'Dawn-Slayer' it was once called. 'Bitter Harvest' too. It slew many a warrior that winter, centuries past. Tell me...what is it's name?"
The man in black speaks softly with intensity.
"Thread-killer."
The green man staggers as if physically struck, a look of horror on his face.
The man in black unsheathes the sword.
*shring*
There is thunder in the distance.
"Your time has come, Fred. It ends today."

Just then, a helicopter swoops over the bay, piloted by a beautiful woman.
It is trailing a rope ladder from the side.
The man in light green grabs the ladder and mockingly waves to the man in black as they fly away.
The man in black rages at the sky.
"Damn you! There will be a reckoning for this, Fred!"

The Thread-Killer

2005-02-12T23:39:00.000-08:00

Behold...an ornate temple in the mountains of China. The wind whispers through the bamboo leaves. A tall, decisive man in black suit enters the temple. An old man is sitting in a wicker chair. He has been waiting...
"So. You have returned."
"Yes."
"What do you require, my Thousand Sons? More tea?"
"You know I didn't come for tea, Old Master."
A rustling of robes.
"Mmmm. I suppose not. Do you truly know what you seek?"
"I've come for the Blade, old man."
"There are many blades in this world, why this one?"
"I am the Foe of Many Faces. This blade has many names, as do I."
"Some names you are worthy to say," says the old man. "Many you are not. Do you believe you are worthy to challenge me?"
The man in black shakes his head, sadly.
"Challenge? Old man, I have already bested you. You just dont know it yet."
The old man is enraged!
"Insolence!"
The old man leaps from his chair, unsheathing a sword!
"YAAAAAAAAH!"
The man in black effortlessly repels his attack. There is a look of detachment on his face.
cling!
cling!
tklang!
shring!
"Your wu-dan style is flawless!" shouts the old man. "Flawless! How is this possible?!
"I had an excellent teacher once. But I have surpassed even he."
A whip-snap of his wrist sends the old masters sword flying.
"ARRGH! It...it cannot be! Black Dragon Striking-Style! Impossible!"
"Nothing is impossible. Now give me what I came for."
The old man leads the man in black to a laquered chest.
"I knew this day would come one day. Of all my many students, I knew you alone were fated to wield the blade."
The chest opens revealing a sword wrapped in black silk.
"This blade carries a heavy burden, my son. Do you accept it?"
"I do. And I add another name to its honored lineage."
The old man gasps! "It has not borne a new name in many centuries!"
"It will now. I name it 'Thread-Killer!"
The blade shimmers slightly, accepting its new name.
"Fred, I'm coming for you now." he whispers.

Con

2005-02-07T09:28:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was the Emerald City Comic Con!

Lotsa fun. I love people watching at any 'con and this one was no exception.
Jhonen Vasquez of 'Invader Zim' and 'Johnny the Homicidal Maniac' was in attendence this year. This brought out the dark legions of the Seattle goth community in all their glory.

I like the fact that online comics have a prescence at cons now too.
I met Tycho and Gabe of Penny Arcade fame, as well as Scott Kurtz of PVP.
Great guys. Didnt want an autograph or anything, just a handshake and a friendly word.
I was a cartoonist myself in a past life and I wish them the best.

They also had a comic trivia contest where folks from the audience went up an answered questions for prizes. My question was "This movie actor accidentally took a trip to Mars in a comic book and had to be rescued by Superman. Who was the actor?"

...the briefest of pauses...

"That would be Orson Welles, my good man!"

Dont ask me how I know that, I just do.

Its frightening the amount of trivia I know...

Hello?

2005-02-07T01:58:00.000-08:00

*crackle*

We get signal.

Is this thing on?

I know I havent been posting much lately, gang.

Just haven't felt much like doing anything fun.

Playing video games, writing, drawing, nothin'.

Somedays I wake up and I just feel dead inside.

Not happy, not sad.

Just here.

Sorry.

The Spring Wind

2005-01-20T08:46:00.000-08:00

"I remember days like this
when my father took me into the forest.
We ate wild blueberries.
More than twenty years ago.
I was just a boy of four or five.
The leaves were so dark and green then!
The grass smelled sweet with the spring wind. "

"Almost twenty years of pitiless combat!
No rest! No sleep like other men!
Ahh...and yet the spring wind blows, Subotai.
Have you ever felt such a wind?"

"They blow where I live too...in the North of every mans heart. "

"It's never too late Subotai... "

"No. It would only lead me back here another day...in even worse company!"

"For us, there is no spring. Just the wind that smells fresh before the storm...

-from 'Conan the Barbarian'

Found!

2005-01-15T11:15:00.000-08:00

*UPDATE*

My bulletin board showed up!

Apparently I never packed it at all, it was still hanging up in my old apartment. The current tenant was nice enough to hold on to it for me. I went and picked it up last night.

All I can say is ....whew!

This whole episode has filled me with a new resolution though. I'm going to clear my board, for the first time in decades. I'm going to put all my knick knacks on it away, to keep them safe. This is a new year and a new life! It's time for something new and wonderful. I'm going to create a new board, one that reflects who I am now, not who I was.

I once read that if you throw away things that are magical or precious to you, you will become a beggar for magic ever after. Always trying to recapture it. Thats why I'm a bit of a pack rat.

But I realize something now...magic, and more importantly love are not in things.

They are inside of us.

Every one of us.

Lost and Found

2005-01-14T08:31:00.000-08:00

"I was made to love magic
All it’s wonder to know
But you all lost that magic
Many many years ago."
-Nick Drake

I lost something very precious to me.
An old cork bulletin board I'd had since I was a kid.
In a way it was an extension of myself.
I had years of memories, mementos, and trinkets from a bygone age on it.

I've been living out of boxes the last couple of weeks. Finally I'm at the point where I wanted decorate and wanted to hang it up. But a quick search of the house turned up nothing. Where could it be?? Its too big to fit in a box, there's no way you could just miss it. Then the horrible truth dawned on me. In the flurry and mayhem of the whole moving process I must have left it on the rental truck.

Frantically, I called the rental place today:
"I think I left something in one of your trucks."
"What was it, we have a couple of things here. A wallet? A purse?"
"No, a bulletin board with pictures and stuff on it."
"Oh no. We dont keep any of that junk here if we find it. We throw it away."
"You...throw it away?!"
"Yeah, what do you expect? We aren't a lost and found you know!"

Years of personal history.
Postcards from those who are gone.
Irreplaceable keepsakes.
Talismans of power that once defined my very being...

Thrown away.

Like garbage.

And no one to blame...but myself.

Overflow...

2005-01-10T09:18:00.000-08:00

You rotten kids!

You and your new fangled Intar-Web whatsit!

Why, back in my day, we didn't *have* blogs! We had to run string between cans to get our news! I can recall hearing 'bout the Martian Invasion from a tin of pilchards! Denial of service meant someone had taken a pen knife to your twine!

A great big howdy to anyone who found their way here.

Feel free to look around. Try not to break anything...

Happy New Year!

2004-12-31T14:39:00.000-08:00

This dream's in sight
You've got to admit it
At this point in time that it's clear
The future looks bright...

What a beautiful world this will be...
What a glorious time to be free...

-Donald Fagen, I.G.Y.

The end of the year and the end of an era.

2004 has been quite a year, filled with personal triumphs and tragedies.

And full of changes too. Some harder to accept than others.

But my friend Doug told me: "You know what? You've been reborn. You have a whole new life ahead of you! Embrace it!"

Indeed. Truer words of wisdom have never been spoken.

Tomorrow I officially take residence in 'Le Palais des Mille Fils'.

Like the mythical phoenix I will arise in glory to a new year!

Happy new year to everyone!
May the new year bring joy and happiness to you and your loved ones!

Liner Notes

2004-12-31T14:27:00.000-08:00

So I'm fiddling around with my Blogger profile today. I decided I wanted a new random question. So I rolled the dice...

Random Question:

"You've broken up with your old band and are about to release your first solo album. Please write the liner notes:"

Hee hee! I've been wanting to do that since 1986! But I don't play in any bands (or musical instruments at all, really) so I never thought I'd have a chance! My little screed was too much for the Blogger profile, so I thought I'd share it with y'all out here...

Breakin' up is hard to do they say. Sorry that my old band mates didnt see the genius of my work!

This CD in your hot little hands is a concept album featuring the hottest prog rock, neo thrash, death metal opera ever created!

Thanks to JJ, Stringbean, Mr Clean, Nappy Dread, Salmon, Toad, and all the roadies!

Extra special thanks to Geoff Tate (guest vocal on Track 7 'Woman: Burn in Hell!')

Thanks to Gibson, Fender, Peavey, Tama, JBL for all the killer gear!

Special thanks to Jeannie at the label (a&r) for all her hard work! Who loves ya babe?

And most of all, thanks to all the die hard Thousand Sons fans out there who made this all possible!
You guys rock the f*ckin' hardest!
See you on tour 2005! XXOO -TS.

Rock.

Moving

2004-12-20T11:47:00.000-08:00

"It seems such a waste of time
If that's what it's all about...
Momma, if that's moving up,
than I'm moving out."
-Billy Joel

I'm moving! No, not in cyberspace, silly. The Blazing Fury remains firmly right here (for now). I'm transfering my spacial co-ordinates out there in Meatspace.

I despise moving with a passion. Truly, I'd rather take a beating than have to move.

If only there was some way to just, y'know, shove all my crap into another dimension and have it pop out again at my new location! But no.

The nomadic genes definitely passed over my DNA. The packrat genome is in abundance though! Somewhere within my double helix is a marker that says "Horde as much shit as possible!" Right next to the one that says "Dont grow any facial hair, jerk." Bah.

Soon I'll be moved and back to the business of purveying bloggie goodness to the masses!

That time of the night...again...

2004-12-15T01:01:00.000-08:00

"Canio hurls his bitter accusations at Nedda..."

No! Pagliaccio non son!
Se il viso è pallido
è di vergogna,
e smania di vendetta!
L'uom riprende i suoi diritti,
e'l cor che sanguina
vuol sangue a lavar l'onta,
o maledetta!
No. Pagliaccio non son!
Son quei che stolido ti raccolse
orfanella in su la via
quasi morta di fame,
e un nome offriati
e un amor
ch'era febbre e follia!

Sperai, tanto il delirio
accecato m'aveva,
se non amor, pietà... mercé!
Ed ogni sacrifizio
al cor, lieto, imponeva,
e fidente credea
più che in Dio stesso, in te!
Ma il vizio alberga sol
ne l'alma tua negletta:
tu viscere non hai...
Sol legge è'l senso a te:
va, non merti il mio duol,
o meretrice abbietta,
vo' ne lo sprezzo mio
schiacciarti sotto i piè!

The comedy has ended.

At that time of the night

2004-12-01T22:13:00.000-08:00

So if you ask me
How do I feel inside?
I could honestly tell you
We’ve been taken on a very long ride
And if my owners let me
Have some free time some day
With all good intention
I would probably run away
Clutching the short straw...

Who broke da blog?

2004-11-28T13:01:00.000-08:00

Thousand Sons, thats who!

Now I'm no primadonna looking for attention, but my weekly perusal of my Statcounter stats gives me a bit of satisfaction when I read it.

I enjoy the fact that other people like my stuff. Makes me feel I'm contributing to the world somehow.

Imagine my surprise when I opened my Statcounter and found nothing.

Zip, zero, nada. Flatlined!

OMG! WTF! and other chattery nonsense!

As a lackadaisical scribe I thought my laziness had caught up with me.

Head hung in shame, I hovered my pointer over the "Delete Blog" button.

Better to burn out than it is to rust.

...

...

...

Wait a minute.

When did this blog flatline exactly, Mr Spock?

"Analysis indicates November 11th, Captain."

Hmmm...right around the time I did interior decorating?

I deleted my own Statcounter script. Like a goddam rookie.

Bah!

A quick fix here and there and my status as a underdog folk hero blogger is reaffirmed!

Man, I thought I'd lost my touch.

The blog must flow...

I am the harlequin...

2004-11-25T15:21:00.000-08:00

"Consumed with despair on discovering his wife's infidelity, Canio gets ready for performance because the show must go on... "

Recitar!... mentre preso dal delirio
non so più quel che dico
e quel che faccio!
Eppur... è d'uopo... sforzati!
Bah! Sei tu forse un uom?
Tu se' Pagliaccio...
Vesti la giubba,
e la faccia infarina.
La gente paga e rider vuole qua.
E se Arlecchin
t'invola Colombina,
ridi, Pagliacco, e ognun applaudirà!
Tramuta in lazzi
lo spasmo ed il pianto,
in una smorfia il singhiozzo
e'l dolor - Ah!
Ridi, Pagliaccio,
sul tuo amore infranto.
Ridi del duol che t'avvelena il cor.

Click Here for Translation

I guess this says it all....

It's over now, Lisa.

Goodbye.

The Camera's Eye

2004-11-13T11:17:00.000-08:00

"If only you could see what I've seen with your eyes..."
-Roy
Blade Runner

Thousand Sons has gone multimedia!

Go check out my Buzznet site.

Not a whole lot posted...yet. But I hope to get some more stuff by the end of the weekend.

Sigh. Just what I need. Another project.

:)

A new look

2004-11-11T22:00:00.000-08:00

Darkness everywhere and nothing more.

Simple, strange melancholy...
painted torrid colours to a sky of green.
Candle
breathing
one night only,
far away,
in chillness,
bleak, unseen.

Drifting galley,
ghostlike shadow,
set sail to catch
and kill the time.
Echoes wandering down
an endless meadow,
search for a thing... sublime...

-Fly to the Rainbow

#1 Super Happy Fun Post!

2004-11-06T19:45:00.000-08:00

Lets cleanse the palate, shall we?

Its Saturday Night, so lets talk about something new.

What is it about the combination of anime and J-pop thats soooo addictive?

Is it the bright candy colors or catchy beats?

Both!

First it was FuriKuri and The Pillows.

Now its Teen Titans and Puffy AmiYumi!

Go check out the Theme video, but I warn you... the song is infectious.

It'll stick in your head for days.

You'll find youself thinking "T-e-e-n T-i-t-a-n-s! Teen Titans! Lets go!" at weird intervals during the day.

Don't say I didn't warn you!

^-^

Back again...

2004-10-19T09:55:00.000-07:00

It's me again, your lackadaisical scribe.

I truly don't know how people do this every single day, let alone get paid for it.

James Lileks puts out a Bleat every day! Each one is a magnificent gem, handpolished to perfection.

I feel like I'm throwin' some old rocks at y'all.

Inspiration is fickle. It strikes me once in a while then flitters off to points unknown.

I'd hate to do a crappy laundry list rundown every day of my boring little life.

'Dear Blog: Went to the store today for lunch. They didnt have the chicken salad I like, so I went to Taco Time instead. The girl forgot to give me my sour cream.'

Feh!

This is a quality blog! Quality does not equal quantity!

Perhaps it would be better rendered thusly:

'I went out to procure my daily victuals! The merchantman did not have the hearty fare I so craved, so I journeyed to the purveyor of Tacos! But, horrors! The foolish maiden of tacos did not give me my condiment of choice! "Brash strumpet," I cried shaking my fist! "Give me the sour cream I requested, lest my cane find your backside!" Not wanting to further provoke the Ire or Blazing Fury, she did acquiesce to my demands!
Victory is mine!'

There. Thats better. But now I want a taco, dammit.

Bloggin'

2004-10-06T23:02:00.000-07:00

From Ye Olde Barbaric Blog (pen & paper):
I recently had a friend ask me about what to post in their blog.

All I have to say is: Write whatever you feel. No matter what. Seriously.

Dont ever be afraid of what you have to say or be afraid of what someone might think.

You have to be absolutely fearless in your writing, otherwise whats the point?

If you hold back out of fear then you aren't being true to yourself or to your reader.

Let it all out. Dont hold back.

Fucking go for it! Lifes too short.

Pull this blog over!

2004-10-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

I swear to Zod, I'm gonna install a breathalyzer on this freakin' blog.

Me: "Arrrrgh! Thousand Sons mad! Must blog!"

BEEEEP!

"We're sorry. But your blood alcohol limit as exceeded the acceptable level for a coherent blog entry. Please try again tomorrow. Thank you."

Ahhh....if only!

Revelation

2004-10-03T02:53:00.000-07:00

What an abortion tonight has been.
It started out well...then went straight to hell in a matter of moments.
But out of stubborn pride I went out anyway.
Loud dance club, rhythmic music, bodies swaying.
I stood there taking the whole spectacle in.
Nobody saw me.
I have that talent.
I felt the Blazing Fury welling up within.
These goddam happy dancing people were infuriating me.
But that is avoiding the true horror.
It came to me...out there on the dance floor.
Amidst the noise and the chaos.
Its not these people that I hate...or even her.
It's me.
It's always been me.
Don't you know by now that nature abhors a vacuum?

"For when it comes right down to it
there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it
there's no one really left to blame
Blame it on me,
you can blame it on me.
We're just sugar mice in the rain..."

*Update: Just so you know: Now that I'm sober, I don't really hate myself. I just dislike myself...sometimes.

The Riddle of Steel

2004-10-03T02:24:00.001-07:00

Fire and Wind come from the Sky.
From the gods of the Sky.
But Crom is your god. Crom, and he lives in the earth.
Once giants lived in the Earth, Conan.
And in the darkness of Chaos, they fooled Crom.
And they took from him the Enigma of Steel.
Crom was angered and the Earth shook!
And Fire and Wind struck down these giants and they threw their bodies into the waters.
But in their rage...the gods forgot the Secret of Steel on the battlefield.
We who found it...are just men.
Not gods. Not giants.
Just men.
The Secret of Steel has always carried with it a mystery.
You must learn its Riddle, Conan.
You must learn its disipline.
For no one, no one in this world can you trust.
Not men. Not women. Not beasts.
...
...
This you can trust.

That woman

2004-10-02T22:30:00.000-07:00

I shouldn't be writing this.

But I know you'll never read this, so it doesn't really matter.

Sometimes, I swear to God, I think you want me to fail.

Remember me...

2004-10-02T03:38:00.000-07:00

Did half of you pass away?
Well what about the other half?
Yeah what about the other half?
Whatever....

Harrrrrr!

2004-10-01T17:30:00.000-07:00

Yarrrr...today be Friday and that be Pirate Day where I'm from lads!

Now there be some enjoyable news regardin' pirates this week, me buckos.

S.E. Hinton, author of 'The Outsiders', has written a new tome entitled "Hawkes Harbor"!

Be clickin' yon link, ye bilge rats, here!

Now this be me favorite quote:

"There are pirates and sex, gunrunning and smuggling, and sailors who talk like sailors."

Har! That sounds like my kinda harbor, missy! Yarr har harr!

Arrr...th' Outsiders. "Stay gold, Pony Boy!" Just stay away from me gold, if'n ye knows whats good for ye!

In other news, this pirate be seekin' a new port o' call hisself. There be some barnacle encrusted blackhearts what be on my ship of employ that needs sortin'out. Never double cross a pirate, ye landlubbers! I've sailed the Seven Seas, battled th' Kraken hisself, and laid waste to th' Dry Tortugas with ease! I fear thee not! I shan't be waitin' about for ye to light to me wit' th' long shanks, buckos. I'm jumpin' ship! There be many a ship sailin' what needs a pirate, matey.

And there's a change in th' wind, says I....

The shortest straw

2004-09-30T14:01:00.000-07:00

So if you ask me
How do I feel inside
I could honestly tell you
We've been taken on a very long ride
And if my owners let me
Have some free time some day
With all good intentions
I would probably run away
Clutching the short straw...

From the Null Chamber

2004-09-26T15:09:00.000-07:00

Today is hangover day.

I'm getting caught up with all my correspondence.

Just the warm glow of my internet connection, while suspended in a warm tank of Gatorade and caffeine.

This is about my speed today. No loud noises or strenuous activity.

My wonderful ISP delivered my new high speed modem today!

The nice girl tech hooked it up while I sloshed about in my tank like a 3rd stage Guild Navigator:
"

"You are transparent! I see through you!"

"Beg your pardon?!"

"Never mind. Do you require Gatorade?"

The new modem is a onyx black wedge of bandwidth love.

The blog must flow.....

Punk

2004-09-25T21:00:00.000-07:00

'Punk' was a catagory on Jeopardy tonight.

Henry Rollins. The Clash. Iggy Pop.

These are Giants that stride the earth like colossi.

Let that sink in deep, then read the opening line again:

'Punk' was a catagory on Jeopardy tonight!

The music that fueled the rage of generations is now 'square' enough to be game show questions. Or 'safe'. That depresses me on some weird level.

I know it happens to the best of us. Everyday times they are a changin'.

Will Slipknot be used to sell cars someday? Or fries like Quiet Riot?

Who else will fall? X? Dead Kennedys....or Dead Milkmen?

Screw it. I'm gonna play Big Black at 3 am and tell the neighbors they can all get fucked!

Glory to the Empire!

2004-09-20T23:29:00.000-07:00

All this pirate talkin' got me feeling nostalgic for my days playing Warhammer 40k! I wrote a little short story set in the 'Battlefleet Gothic' game a while ago. Commander Kehntari isn't really a pirate at all, really more a privateer. But I miss his style! I loved writing his dialogue. Wish I could talk like that all the time! :) Bonus points to everyone who catches all the Pink Floyd quotes in the third story.

Praise to the Emperor! After many months of laboring in vain on my stricken vessel, I decided that only the Adeptus Mechanicus could properly minister to its injuries. The tech priest breathed life into my injured craft, but only briefly. "Its spirit is sick, m'lord." hissed the priest. "The organ which controls the mighty rumble of its heart is damaged. You must find a replacement." "Zounds!" I cried. "No mean feat, that. For it is a relic, predating even the Heresy!" So began the perilous quest, which led to the Eye of Terror and back. Many leads were followed to no avail. Then, a pirate vessel in orbit around the lonely outpost world of U-Tah proffered a module for purchase. "A worthy module, m'lord. And such a handsome price!" "So be it, freebooter!" I cried in a loud voice. "But be warned, the wrath of the Legion will be upon you should your claims prove false!" Now I await the arrival of my precious module, stranded in the Necromunda Hive, languishing. Perhaps the friendly natives will entertain me?

...

Praise to the Emperor! After many months of languishing in Hive, the precious module has arrived! It came not from U-Tah as we originally believed but Khen’tukhi, a savage world beyond known Imperial space. We brought the strange device to the Adeptus Mechanicus, that they might begin the Rites of Repair and Engine Prep. “The Machine God demands a tithe, o lord” wheezed the tech priest. I searched my person for a worthy gewgaw. Finally, I gave the priest a ring of adamantine I gained during the Scouring of Delvan V, a bauble from a shattered world. “A fortunate token, m’lord. The Machine God is pleased. We will begin the Rite.” Silently I cursed all priests of technology. Their ways are not the ways of good fighting men! After waiting what seemed to be many hours a loud, throaty rumble filled the air. A shudder of joy ran through me! “She lives! By the Emperors Teeth, she lives!” I exclaimed, shaking my fist. “Beware minions of Chaos! The pride of the Fleet rides the spaceways again! Look you to your ramparts, vain Eldar, the Fist of the Emperors Might comes to smite you!” “What is our destination, Commander?” asked the navigator. “Terra system! The Imperial Shipyards of Mars! I believe it is time to find another warship to carry on the fight, before this one dies the Final Death!” Ah, to be sailing in the inky black of space once again! To have freed my feet from yon worthless rock! By my beard, space flight has never tasted so sweet!

...

After many months of space travel and trouble with the interstellar overdrive, Mars laid before us like a crimson jewel. We were met in orbit by a high ranking Tech Priest. “Greetings Commander,” intoned the priest. “I am Bishop Essington Strek, I am Chief of the Imperial Shipyards.“
“Greetings!” I boomed. “This ancient ship I command has been through many battles, and it is time to obtain another.”
“According to our records, the Admiralty approved your transfer request years ago. Why have you waited all this time for a new ship?” he asked.
“Waste not, want not.” I shrugged. “Besides, the call to battle is hard to ignore.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Your reputation precedes you, Commander.”, he said shuffling his paperwork. “You are currently assigned to a Firestorm class frigate. The Admiralty is assigning you to a Dauntless class cruiser.”
“A Dauntless?” I breathed. Long had I yearned for such a craft. Its smooth lines and curves belie its enormous firepower and speed.
“What colour is it?” I asked.
“Why, any colour you like!” he replied.
I knew the answer in an instant. “Black, then. Black as a starless night! Black as an Eldar’s soul!” “Very good. It is in orbit on the dark side of the moon, Phobos. What is to be done with your old ship m’lord?” asked the priest.
Strewth! I had given no thought to the old girl. She had been a loyal servant. I was even willing to forgive the time I was becalmed in the Sargasso of Space! She was too proud to be sold to some rogue trader, or left for a space hulk. What would be an appropriate end for her?

Then it occurred to me. “Set controls for the heart of the sun, Priest! Her grave shall be the fat old sun!”

Scurry back to the Eye of Terror, o Chaos! Flee my wrath, o green skinned Orks! The pride of the Fleet now rides an ebony war-horse! Together we shall bring the Emperors Light to this benighted galaxy!”

Yours in Imperial Service,

Commander Kehntari

AVAST!

2004-09-19T10:10:00.000-07:00

Arrrr.... avast, ye scurvies!

Today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day!
Now gets to conversatin' pirate like, landlubbers, or you'll be restin' in Davy Jones' Locker!

Arrrr.

Update: 9/20 12:01 am

Avast! Twelve bells and alls well! That be meanin......pirate day is over! :(

I had a great time pirating it up across the Blogosphere! I don't think I can wait another year. Maybe I'll make every Friday Pirate Day around here? Now that would be worth celebratin' me buckos! Har harrrrrr!

Ramblin' Man

2004-09-12T19:51:00.000-07:00

A friend read my blog recently and asked:

"Did you really break up with a girl on general principle due to Garth Brooks 'Ropin' the Wind'? I don't believe it. No one could really be that horrible."

Sigh. Yes, Gentle Reader, it's true.

In my long ago youth I dated a country girl. Now I have nothing personally against country music, its just not my bag. We had been dating for a bit when Mr. Brooks released the aforementioned album. She thought it was the Second Coming of the Beatles or something! (Even though I use that analogy in this narrative, she had no idea who they were.)
Couldn't stop talking about it. So passionate about it in fact, she loaned her only copy to me.
"You have just got to listen to this!"

Oh... ok....

A couple of weeks later she noticed it hadn't moved from my dashboard. A thin rime of dust had settled on it. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at me. "You don't really like country music do you?"

Oh shit. The Honest Moment. It comes at strange moments in a realationship and here it was.

Take charge, TS! Tell her exactly how you feel!
"Er....well. You know....um.....sigh....no."

She smiled knowingly at me. "Boy, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be wearing a black cowboy hat and taking me to the Garth Brooks concert this October!"

Yeeee-freakin'-haw.

I felt the chill in my spine because she was probably right.

Thousand Sons must run free and unfettered!
So I bailed. Stopped calling.

Sometimes I'll look back... brooding like Captain Kirk.
"Would it have hurt us a little...just to listen to country music?"

The short answer is no...and yes.

"And I wonder if she knows...what she's doin' now"

Where is the Funny?!?

2004-09-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

Sorry gang. Had to roll out two of four major projects at work last week, no time for deep bloggy thoughts. :(

Exhaustion cramps the blazing fury style.

Access Denied...

2004-09-08T13:38:00.000-07:00

*From barbaric communications:

Blogspot has taken a dump. Their java is screwed so I cant post and no one can comment!

I have thoughts...thoughts I tell you! Such thoughts I have in my head, and I cant get them to The People!

Arrrgh! It's all just so frustrating! The thoughts! They bubble over in my head! Christ! I may have to resort to writing them down! Like a chimp! Horror.

Damn you Blogspot! I'm a paying customer and this is how I get treated?!

Well...ok.

No I'm not. Paying that is.

But....still!

Dont they understand The People need me?!

People I don't even know are linking to me.
The People demand content! Content I cannot provide in this crippled state!
I may be forced to stand outside on the hood of my car shouting at passersby:
"Hey! Did you ever listen to Radiohead? It's fucking brilliant!"
"Who the fuck are you?!"
"Ha ha! I'm Thousand Sons, bitch!"

UPDATE: BlogSpot, I don't know what you did but you saved my sanity. Thousand thanks from Thousand Sons! I take back every mean thing I ever said. Which was nothing. If you hear otherwise, that wasn't me. It was some guy named Thompson...

With gratitude, again

2004-09-07T19:46:00.000-07:00

Thousand Sons has a thousand ears and a thousand eyes!

(Actually, I guess that would be two thousand eyes. Be quiet! I'm talking...)

Thanks be to Lost Vowels from Merrie Olde England for linking to my little blog.

Anyone who uses 'huzzah' in casual conversation is great in my book!

I, Anonymous

2004-09-07T13:12:00.000-07:00

"Contrary to the conventional wisdom, it's posting song lyrics to your blog that's the last refuge of the incompetent. Happily, we're all feeling our way through this fucking coal mine called reality, and anyone that brags competency is a goddamn liar. Welcome, friend."
-Anonymous

Well. Well! I don't know what to say except...

"Well I been workin’ in a coal mine
Goin’ down down
Workin’ in a coal mine
Whew about to slip down"

Ho ho! I have not yet begun to display my incompetence! ;-)

You do make an excellent point though. The Blogosphere is infested with would be poets whose greatest skill is Copy+Paste=Angst!

But this blog is no fucking "Titanic Weeping Party" with Celine Dion lyrics and searing MIDI squeal.

Music and especially lyrics are integral to my very being. People who know me in the Real World know this about me. Every event, major or minor, in my life I can tie to a song or obscure quote.

Did you know I get a pain in my stomach when I hear "Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainright because that was the first song I listened to after I heard about my friends accident?

Did you know I once broke up with a girl on general principle due to Garth Brooks "Ropin' the Wind"?

Well, of course not, gentle Anonymous reader. Because I haven't told you yet. But without a reference to the music, the events are merely two-dimensional.

"Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel.This is a delicate thing."

I guess the same can apply to blogs as well. So I will endevour to give some context to my posts containing lyrics.

As my blog is so new and still bloody from birth, mistakes will be made.

I can promise you there will never be posts on cats, news, politics, or kids on my site while I'm at the helm. Nor crappy MIDI music. Or recipes for soup. Or goddam dancing baby animations.

The coal mine is not impossible to navigate. It just needs a little light.

So I do hope you return and enjoy my scrawls!

But if you don't, well, just click on the little "Next Blog" in the upper right hand corner and read another blog about someones goddam fucking cats, children or rehash of the news.

You have the power...

Arrrgh....

2004-09-06T09:32:00.000-07:00

What the hell happened here last night?

Who let the drunk drive this blog home??

I mean...really. Geez.

Thousand Sons to World: I'm sorry.

Will you take me back?

Why you gotta make me crazy like that, baby?!

Drunk...agin...

2004-09-06T02:50:00.000-07:00

Yep. Thats me. Stewed...

I'm breaking a rule: never blog drunk. But...what the hell...

I'll probably regret this tomorrow morning, but I don't care.

I've drank several Guinness tonite and I'm generally mad at the world right now.

Thousand Sons to World: Drop dead.

I'm sick of all of you. You fucking fuckers.

Go to hell...

Push and Pull...

2004-09-04T04:12:00.000-07:00

Mr. Nothing's got a lot
He's got a lot to say
He's good at being what he's not
Gives nothing away

Another day goes on by
And he never speaks his heart
He takes his chance with what he's got
It's too late now to stop

You push and you pull
and struggle with the knot
It's tying you up while you're fadin'
You give and you take and take what you got
Round and round 'till it breaks and
You push and you pull and struggle with the knot
It's tying you up while you're fadin' into your lie

Mr. Nothing is late
He's running out of time
He questions whether chance or fate will ever show a sign
Looks to the sky above
For a glimpse of what it means
And 'now or never' never made
Made more sense to him

-Nikka Costa

Cloistered

2004-09-04T03:59:00.000-07:00

It was summer on the north coast,
the wrong coast, they call it in the East.
It was summer. And summer means rain.

Rain disolved the islands in the sound,
it buried mountains and turned the ocean gray.
I listened to it rattle at my window.

Funny, how you wake some days
in the middle of the morning, and know
somehow a part of the world had died.

another language lifted from our tongues,
another way of knowing. And you don't know
whether the pulse you feel is yours

or is the fading beat of the world.
An eagle is not a symbol for a thing.
It was early summer or late spring.

I listened to the rain.
For all its tenderness and wealth,
the earth is often a meagre gift.

But to know and not speak
is the greatest grief. Listen.
The world flows away like a wave.

-Sam Hamill

Oh, whats in a name?

2004-08-31T18:40:00.000-07:00

"But what does Thousand Sons mean?! C'mon, they always tell the main character!"

Well...I actually have one thousand sons. I certainly had a lot of fun making them! They all have paper routes and made me rich! HA HA!

Okay, okay. Not true. Its meaning is two fold:

The short version is I used to play a lot of Warhammer 40k. and always liked the "Thousand Sons" chapter. The concept of undead sorcerors locked forever in their battle arrmor, fighting endlessly appeals to me on some level. Thats how I feel at my job most of the time.

The long winded, intellectual version is from my love of Shakespere.
The Bard had a great quote about the refined qualities of sherry:

A good sherris sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into thebrain; dries me there all the foolish and dull and curdy vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble fiery and delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit.

IfI had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
-Falstaff, King Henry IV

Being a bit of an inebriate myself, I would have to agree! *hic*

It's strange though. I've had plenty of nicknames in my life, but this is the one that stuck for some reason. Probably because I didn't really choose it, it chose me. I started posting as 'Thousand Sons' years ago in the Dark Ages of the Internet as an afterthought. Just as a goof really, since none of my other 'nics' seemed appropriate anymore. But now a rather broad spectrum of people around the world know me as Thousand Sons. Moreso than any of my so called 'serious nics'. Thats just Eerie!

As a friend of mine once said "Always be serious about what you create. Even if you do something as a lark or a goof, you might be best known for that one day."

I suppose it could be worse, y'know?

Better than being Bill Chimpfucker.

"Eeeehh. It was only the one time, pretty lady!"

Cheers!

2004-08-31T18:15:00.000-07:00

Another round of thanks (albeit belated), this time to Grinder for linking to my page.

Ahh, the power of the Internet!

To be able to reach out half way 'round the world and make someone laugh.

Sweet.

Well, at least Australia loves me now...

One continent down, several to go.

BTW, Atlantis loves me too.

But Lemuria wouldn't know funny if it got bit on the arse!

Those bastards....

Possible Pasts

2004-08-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

"They flutter behind you
your possible pasts
some bright-eyed and crazy
some frightened and lost
a warning to anyone
still in command
of their possible future
to take care..."
-Pink Floyd, Your Possible Pasts

A different city...another time.

Strange little shop in a funky little northside neighborhood.

It was the camera shop that she had managed. As I looked around I knew immediately that this place was the sort of place she loved.

The employees worked away efficiently, customers came and went.

Nobody noticed me. I have that talent.

Then I saw it.

A handmade sign in her handwriting.

It was unmistakably hers, with the loopy curlicues and flourishes.

I reached out my hand to it.

Hot tears burned my eyes, I couldnt take it anymore. I bolted outside and sat on a bus stop bench. I sobbed like a child. The dichotomy of the scene overwhelmed me. It was a beautiful, warm summer day filled with sunshine. And yet, to me it might as well been the coldest bleakest winter. I was in the wrong season...

"I do not want to go back. I do not want to relive the horror.
I do not want to reclaim the pain. There is pain too deep to withstand right here, right now. There is no way to recapture that awfulness, anyway. The mind and heart, safely over to the farther shore, simply refuse to encompass the enormity of the voyage.

Fragments...
...all around, fragments of my work, my life, my love and my pain,
scattered in this bleak season...

And in the darkness, shards of time."
-Glen Cook, Bleak Seasons

I had a vison sitting there, a Possible Past that never was:

I had shown up unannounced to surprise her, as I have done often in the past. She feigned surprise, secretly delighted to see me. We had coffee at the Cafe down the street, reminiscing about old times and new. I gave her a cd I'd made just for her. I hoped she would get the inside jokes and references I carefully placed in it. Of course she would. I told her about the book I'm writing, how I've been working on it for so long. We would promise to keep in touch.

"Dont you remember me? how we used to be? do you think...we should be closer?"

But this is all just fantasy now. It never happened, and now never will.

"...strung out behind us the banners and flags of our possible pasts lie in tatters...and rags."

Rage

2004-08-29T21:57:00.000-07:00

"I'm gonna dye my hair blond and change my name to Rage!"
-A Friend

RW wanted something on Rage.

I dig the Blazing Fury myself, but Rage is always nice.

Rage is good for you once in a while. You need to let it out.

There is Rage deep in my soul.

Like a sword molten from the furnace, it burns white hot.

I've quenched it in the water of Reason.

Sharpened it on the whetstone of my Logic.

It is all the more dangerous for that.

Humour Part II

2004-08-29T10:41:00.000-07:00

Humour is appropriate on a gray Sunday.

As long as its dark.

So for those feeling mopey, I invite everybody to Gothic Dance! (requires sound & QuickTime)

I know you...

2004-08-29T02:22:00.000-07:00

I know you.

You were too short.
You had bad skin.
You couldn't talk to them very well.
Words didn't seem to work.
They lied when they came out of your mouth.
You tried so hard to understand them.
You wanted to be part of what was happening.
You saw them having fun,
and it seemed like such a mystery
almost magic.

It made you think
that there was something wrong with you.
You'd look in the mirror trying to find it.
You thought that you were ugly
and that everyone was looking at you.

So you learned to be invisible,
to look down,
to avoid conversation.

The hours, days, weekends.
Ahh, the weekend nights alone.
Where were you?
In the basement? In the attic? In your room? Working some job?

Just to have something to do,
just to have some place to put yourself,
just to have a way to get away from them.
A chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange and
ill-at-ease inside yourself.

Do you ever get invited to one of their parties?
You sat and wondered if you would go or not.
For hours you imagined the scenarios that might transpire.
If they would laugh at you?
If you would know what to do?
If you would have the right things on?
If they would notice that you came from a
different planet?

Did you get all brave in your thoughts?
Like you were going to be able to go in there and deal with it, and have a great time?
Did you think that you might be "the life of the party?"
That all these people were going to talk to you
and you would find out that were wrong.
That you had a lot of friends and you weren't so strange after all.

Did you end up going?
Did they mess with you?
Did they single you out?
Did you find out that you were invited,
because they thought you were so weird?

Yeah, I think I know you.

You spent a lot of time full of hate.
A hate that was as pure as sunshine.
A hate that saw for miles.
A hate that kept you up at night.
A hate that filled your every waking moment.
A hate that carried you for a long time.

Yeah, I think I know you.
You couldn't figure out what they saw in the way
they lived.
Home was not home!
Your room was home.
A corner was home.
The place they weren't,
that was home.

I know you.
You're sensitive, and you hide it
because you fear getting
stepped on one more time.
It seems that when you show a part of yourself
that is the least bit vulnerable someone takes advantage of you.
One of them steps on you.
They mistake kindness for weakness,
but you know the difference.
You've been the brunt of their weakness for years
and strength is something you know a bit about
because you had to be strong to keep
yourself alive.

You know yourself very well now
and you don't trust people.
you know them too well.
You try to find that special person,
someone you can be with,
someone you can touch,
someone you can talk to,
someone you won't feel so strange around.
And you found that they don't really exist.
You feel closer to people on movie screens.

Yeah, I think I know you.

You spend a lot of time day dreaming
and people have made comment to that affect
telling you that you are 'self involved' and 'self centered'.
But they don't know, do they?
About the long night shifts alone.
About the years of keeping yourself company.
All the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself
so you could imagine someone holding you.
The hours of indecision.
Self doubt.
The intense depression.
The blinding hate.
The rage that made you stagger.
The devastation of rejection.

(sigh) Well , maybe they do know.
But if they do
they sure do a good job of hiding it.
It astounds you how they can be so smooth.
How they seem to pass through life,
as if life itself was some divine gift.
And it infuriates you
to watch yourself with your apparent skill
in finding every way possible
to screw it up.

For you, life is a long trip.
Terrifying and wonderful.
Birds sing to you at night.
The rain and the sun, the changing seasons are true friends.
Solitude is a hard-won ally
faithful and patient.

Yeah, I think I know you.

--Henry Rollins

Humour

2004-08-28T19:30:00.000-07:00

Time to lighten the mood a bit.

This is from a forum post exchange years and years ago. I cant take credit for it, but it still cracks me up.

"Throwing Muses is not long for this world! Soon he will be a supernatural smorgasbord for the beasts of the underworld, who I will unlease with the fury of a thousand sons."

"Well, I'm all for a smorgasboard, but I'm not too fond of having any underworld beasts become unleased. We'll just renew those leases before the thousand sons get back from lunch. No wonder they get furious."

"A thousand... sons? Suns, you ass!"

Har!

Dont wanna live like a refugee!

2004-08-28T14:21:00.000-07:00

"This will always be a place of refuge."

I have decided, firmly, that my blog will not be political in any way shape or form.

I get tired of listening to the broken records. It's bad for the soul and will wear you down.

So if anyone wants a place to get away, if only for a while, this is the place to go.

Oh, and this is a smoke friendly blog...so smoke 'em if you got 'em!

;-)

Stop! STOP!

2004-08-27T10:13:00.000-07:00

"I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, there's no reason for me to do that song here..."

Radio Radio

I was tuning in the shine on the light night dial
doing anything my radio advised
with every one of those late night stations
playing songs bringing tears to me eyes
I was seriously thinking about hiding the receiver
when the switch broke 'cause it's old
They're saying things that I can hardly believe.
They really think we're getting out of control.

Radio is a sound salvation
Radio is cleaning up the nation
They say you better listen to the voice of reason
But they don't give you any choice
'cause they think that it's treason.
So you had better do as you are told.
You better listen to the radio.

I wanna bite the hand that feeds me.
I wanna bite that hand so badly
I want to make them wish they'd never seen me!

Some of my friends sit around every evening
and they worry about the times ahead
But everybody else is overwhelmed by indifference
and the promise of an early bed
You either shut up or get cut out;
they don't wanna hear about it.
It's only inches on the reel-to-reel.
And the radio is in the hands of such a lot of fools
tryin' to anaesthetise the way that you feel!

[Chorus]

Wonderful radio
Marvelous radio
Wonderful radio
Radio, radio...

-Elvis Costello

(Did anyone else get the chills when they saw that on Saturday Night Live years ago?? I know I did.)

My Soul to the Mountain...

2004-08-26T15:16:00.000-07:00

Have mercy on me, my Soul.
You have shown me Fortune beyond my grasp.
You and Fortune abide on the mountain top;
Misery and I are abandoned together in the pit of the valley.
Will e'er the mountain and the valley unite?
-Kahlil Gibran

There is a mountain near my hometown. A foothill compared to the leviathans to the West, but a mountain nonetheless. On the summit is a granite formation that thrusts out like the prow of a ship. At the edge it's broken at an almost perfect 90 degree angle, and approximates a chair. I named it Hlidskjalf for Odin's High Throne. In Norse mythology, Odin would go to his High Throne to see the Nine Worlds and all that transpired there. In my younger days, I would go there and peer out at my world. My hometown, and the great Shining City beyond.

I went there the day of The Funeral. I hiked up to the summit to Hlidskjalf; to sit and ponder the meaning of it all. Looking out at the World...it seemed smaller somehow. I listened to "The Grey Havens" on my player.

This was my mountain, but for a brief time it was our mountain too. Time means very little to this place, it hasn't changed much over the years.

But there, right there! I kissed her for the first time, so many years ago.

Like lightning, so bright and powerful...but fleeting.

The whispering wind through the pines gave me little comfort.

She's gone now.

Into the West.

Inside Joke...for those in the Know...

2004-08-26T11:37:00.000-07:00

"Is it wrong to watch blind people make out?"

"We must never speak of this. Ever."

Relativity

2004-08-26T10:26:00.000-07:00

Blogging is pretty strange. I mean, its like standing in a public square with a mask on reading your diary aloud.

I kept a journal in my younger years. 'The Book of Infinte Knowledge' I called it. A self mocking title because it certainly wasn't infinite, and looking back pretty short on knowledge as well. I pulled it out not long ago, along with some of my old sketchbooks. Jesus. Did I really write this?? Adolescent pinings for the unattainable? Angst ridden angstiness? (That's not a word, TS! ) Did I draw these horrible things? Demons and wizards? Leather clad skeletal warriors astride pteradactyls, for fuck sake?! (Yes...really.)

At the time, I thought it was pretty cool.

Years from now, I'll probably look back and say "Did I blog this?! Horrible!"

But remember 'cool', like time, is relative. And dependant upon the location of the observer.

In astronomy terms, my earlier work is 'red shifting' away from me at an enormous rate of speed.

Here comes the rain again...

2004-08-24T15:04:00.000-07:00

Well, the crummy weather has returned to my little corner of the world. Time to dust off the melancholy music again.

This song never fails to 'get' me on a rainy day.

Rain is Falling
by Electric Light Orchestra

Looking from this window
A thousand rivers running past my door
Standing on an island
Looking for someone upon the shore
I can see it very clearly, nothing's really changed
Then lightning strikes across an empty sky.
Ooohh, the rain is falling
Will it wash away the lonely tears?

Where do we go from here?

2004-08-23T10:45:00.000-07:00

Now I am fully immersed in the Blogosphere! But...where do we go from here? (A five-layer inside joke if you know me personally. Like a bean dip!)

This blog is where I will scrawl my witticisms on the bathroom stall that is the Internet. Pithy thoughts, ramblings, the occasional song lyric.

I wont wax political on my blog. There are others who compete in that arena far better than I. To paraphrase Scytale the Tleilaxu "I toddle, where they stride."

What I do know is pop culture, mayhem, and frivolity. I'm a creature filled with useless knowledge, and obsure quotes.

"And if you aren't careful, you might learn something before its done! So lets get ready, okay?"

Hey, hey, hey!

How does it all go again? The mind...the mind...

2004-08-23T00:29:00.000-07:00

"The Mind, the Tool, and the Engine. This is optimum fusion. And Man, in his arrogance, locks horns with nature and plunges headlong into the new frontier. Not bad for the descendant of tree apes..."

-Tony Stark, Crash

Is this thing on?

2004-08-23T00:10:00.000-07:00

Sweet fancy Moses! I'm a blogger now! Behold, for I blog! Har!
...
...
Now I'm bored. Feh.