12 years give or take a few months, thats all I have left! Oh no don't get me wrong faithful readers I do not have some terminal disease....yet but I know that things can't stay this rosy forever. We are dying. The sooner we accept this the better off we are and the sooner we can stop blaming God, the Devil, the universe, Buddha, Odin, Thor, Isis, etc.. for all of the good & bad in our lives. Face it dear readers life is just one bad hand, one unlucky toss of the dice away from complete & total anihilation! Ok I admit perhaps that's a bit melodramatic but it sounds good.
Seriously though we are dying and somehow thats liberating. From my perspective I'm figuring I have till I'm 50. Yep 50, why fifty u ask? Good question, & my answer is basically that's 12ish years for whatever is going to kill me to do its thing. High blood pressure, a fall, some disease not yet known, or the big C. (Lance Armstrong recently tweeted that 1 in 3 people will get cancer) will all take about that long to develop, eat my innards and send me to the fishes. But 50 is a good age to go. You're not yet a burden, you still know whats going on and the family will still have good memories. It's not a bad time to go....except maybe that the son will not have graduated yet...of course by then we'll know if he's going to or if he's going to be a career criminal. Remeber after 5 they've pretty much learned all the 'morals' they're going to.
So what does this mean? Nothing really, I can't quit my job or anything but it does mean I need to slow down and enjoy what ive got around me and u should to dear blog lurkers. U never know when u might kick the bucket & I doubt there is much after this. We'll be feeding the worms six feet under in a rotting wooden box. So grab life now and enjoy it, the endgame is around the corner no matter how hard u fight it. Some might think that this is really depressing, that im being suicidal or have a negative out look on life but I assure u I dont. I'm being realistic, pragmatic, accepting of fate and I smile as I realize that i must've missed the train to Invulnerability Town & Immortalville!
Now I'm off to play 'Ace of Cakes' with my children. Yep now that's grabbing life by the &ornament and running with it. A real edge of the seat rollercoaster ride thru life! Until next time dear readers I bid u all adieu! ;-)
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
And so it goes.
There is no real point to this post but I do like title. I am beat, I am tired, I am ready for a day off...its a good thing today is friday....for me at least. Oh what to do tomorrow? I'm pretty sure I'll get to stay away from the doctors office, my knees are a little better. Maybe 50% right now which is better than they were on saturday afternoon. Maybe a down day of relaxing to prepare myself for the bowling & movie that will be wednesday.
So i am still stuck with the idea that I am not destined to be a writer. In fact I'm not really destined to be anything. I mean I do things, I enjoy things but drive has never been my strong point. What's weird is that in the past this lack of drive has bugged me. I mean ive always felt lost somehow & so I went to school, tried guitar, tried writing, tried model trains and man have i spent some money on these things. I like to ride/run and i enjoy Aikido a great deal but I do not have a drive to do them. It's more of q force myself to do them. No my great drive is to sit on the couch and watch the world go by & the kids get older. As I age I seem to care less that I have no drive. I am content to let things lie. I am quite happy to not be promoted, if the boss yells at me...so be it. I could care less. So is this a result of the maturing process or orbs absorbtion of some strange idea of a philosophy or am I just apathetic by nature? It is a strange place I find myself these days & perhaps ishould be upset by all of this but you know what? I'm not. I'm happy with life, I'm content with life. Maybe its because when you arent shooting for qnything you cant be dissapointed. Or maybe im just getting to be an old curmudgon. To be honest i don't think it matters sonny so I'm going to go over here and sit in my rocket for a spell and nap a bit!
So i am still stuck with the idea that I am not destined to be a writer. In fact I'm not really destined to be anything. I mean I do things, I enjoy things but drive has never been my strong point. What's weird is that in the past this lack of drive has bugged me. I mean ive always felt lost somehow & so I went to school, tried guitar, tried writing, tried model trains and man have i spent some money on these things. I like to ride/run and i enjoy Aikido a great deal but I do not have a drive to do them. It's more of q force myself to do them. No my great drive is to sit on the couch and watch the world go by & the kids get older. As I age I seem to care less that I have no drive. I am content to let things lie. I am quite happy to not be promoted, if the boss yells at me...so be it. I could care less. So is this a result of the maturing process or orbs absorbtion of some strange idea of a philosophy or am I just apathetic by nature? It is a strange place I find myself these days & perhaps ishould be upset by all of this but you know what? I'm not. I'm happy with life, I'm content with life. Maybe its because when you arent shooting for qnything you cant be dissapointed. Or maybe im just getting to be an old curmudgon. To be honest i don't think it matters sonny so I'm going to go over here and sit in my rocket for a spell and nap a bit!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
A piece of Chapter 1 (it was longer than I remembered...and unedited)
Chapter 1:
“Get up.” The voice was harsh and deep
He didn’t open his eyes when he replied, “Why?”
There was a pause, and he inched open one eye to take in the guard. He was built like a mountain and he stank of stale sweat even from the other side of the bars. Eric Wintermane, formerly an Ensign in the United Colonies Navy, didn’t get up from the thinly padded slab they called a bed in the stockade.
“You’ve been mustered boy.”
This caused Eric to open his eyes. He even rolled his head towards the guard. He didn’t get up, “Anyone tell the Navy they put me up on charges of assault and battery? I’ve got eighteen months left of a twenty-four month stay.”
“Yes, even reminded them that it was assault and battery on an officer.”
“He was hardly an officer.”
The guard shrugged his shoulders, “Didn’t say he was a good one.”
“Did it help?”
“Nope.”
“What commanding officer would want me?”
Another shrug, “Beats me but then I don’t get paid to ask those kinds of questions.”
“I suppose not. What if I refuse?”
“I was told to bring you before the Warden in uniform kicking and screaming if I have to,” The guard looked down at the duffel bag he was holding in one meaty hand, “Rather not.” The guard tossed the duffel towards Wintermane. It landed with a thud on the floor next to him.
“That’d be real rough on my already shot reputation.”
“Could look at turning over a new leaf.”
“Suppose I could.”
The guard laughed and walked away, he called back over his shoulder as he did, “You got fifteen to get dressed.”
Eric sat up and put his feet on the ground. He stared at the duffel bag. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to open it. He had never liked the Navy. He had never wanted to join but there was a legacy, a duty and so in the end he had signed his life away for six years. He was only two years into that six and it had already felt like a lifetime. In his little cell amongst the other inmates he was simply prisoner 21121701-X. He was anonymous and he reveled in his new anonymity. If someone asked his name he told him his first, never his last. No one knew he was ‘One of those Wintermanes’. He liked it that way.
Time ticked by the duffel bag sat there and didn’t move. For a minute Eric thought of pushing his luck but he knew the guard and knew the mountain of a man would have no problem pumping him full of tranqs and carting him off unconscious to the Warden. With a sigh Eric drug the duffel towards him, he unzipped the bag and sighed a longer heavier sigh at the neatly folded uniform he saw. Eric stood on bare feet and slid the orange jump suit off and with it his quiet life in cell 4201 as prisoner 21121701-X. He dressed in the uniform provided.
Fifteen minutes later the guard returned and Eric stood for inspection. He wore black combat fatigues neatly tucked into black combat boots. Over a white t-shirt he wore the long sleeved brown fatigues. His last name emblazoned over the right pocket for all to see. On one arm the flag of the Colonies, on the other the Naval seal. On each shoulders epaulets the single bar of an Ensign. A black beret was rolled up and shoved through the epaulet on his left shoulder. The guard smiled widely when he returned to the cell. Eric snapped to attention.
“Boy, you clean up right well.”
“Gee thanks.”
The guard slid the door to the cell open and Eric marched out with a scowl on his face as he past the still grinning guard. The guard set off past other cells whose occupants openly gawked at the transformation of their quiet neighbor. A few cat calls followed and a few others whistled. Eric took it all in with grim determination.
Eric was thinking one thing over and over again as he followed the guard out of the cell block, up an elevator to the prisons top floor and into the well appointed waiting room of the Wardens office. This had better be good.
Eric was admitted after only a few short minutes of waiting. He stood in front of the warden’s large oak desk. He barely resisted the urge to go through the papers on top of the desk. A door to the side of the dark office slid open. Eric snapped to attention when the Warden appeared. The Warden was a large man and well past middle-age. Rumor had it that he had been some big shot at one time but a falling out with some powerfully political figures had ended him up a Warden in charge of the Navies largest prison facility in the middle of a still very sparsely populated Antarctica.
The Warden circled Eric several times and then finally with a shake of his head walked to his large leather chair.
“You need a shave.”
Eric nodded, “Yes sir.”
“Do you know why you’ve been mustered?”
“No sir.”
“Neither do I. I tried to stop it you know but they over rode me.”
“They?”
“I’m assuming your family had something to do with this.”
Eric shook his head, “They are more disappointed in me than you are sir.”
That drew a smile from the Warden, “You are a disappointment to the human race Ensign.”
“Yes sir.”
Eric met the Wardens gaze. A tense silence fell over the room for several minutes. Eric was about to speak when the Warden stood up and leaned on over slightly, “Son, just remember that they can ship you back here just as easily as they’re shipping you out.”
“Yes sir.”
“Dismissed Ensign.”
Eric snapped off a crisp salute, the first he’d given in many months, spun on his heels and left the office. The door nearly slammed behind him and the guard appeared quickly.
“We’ll get you things and then you’re to report to the shuttle bays in thirty.”
“Just enough time to get into trouble.”
The guard glanced at him, “Can’t you wait until you get off-planet?”
“Why waste all those tax payer dollars to get me shipped back here.”
The guard laughed and led his former prisoner through processing.
“Get up.” The voice was harsh and deep
He didn’t open his eyes when he replied, “Why?”
There was a pause, and he inched open one eye to take in the guard. He was built like a mountain and he stank of stale sweat even from the other side of the bars. Eric Wintermane, formerly an Ensign in the United Colonies Navy, didn’t get up from the thinly padded slab they called a bed in the stockade.
“You’ve been mustered boy.”
This caused Eric to open his eyes. He even rolled his head towards the guard. He didn’t get up, “Anyone tell the Navy they put me up on charges of assault and battery? I’ve got eighteen months left of a twenty-four month stay.”
“Yes, even reminded them that it was assault and battery on an officer.”
“He was hardly an officer.”
The guard shrugged his shoulders, “Didn’t say he was a good one.”
“Did it help?”
“Nope.”
“What commanding officer would want me?”
Another shrug, “Beats me but then I don’t get paid to ask those kinds of questions.”
“I suppose not. What if I refuse?”
“I was told to bring you before the Warden in uniform kicking and screaming if I have to,” The guard looked down at the duffel bag he was holding in one meaty hand, “Rather not.” The guard tossed the duffel towards Wintermane. It landed with a thud on the floor next to him.
“That’d be real rough on my already shot reputation.”
“Could look at turning over a new leaf.”
“Suppose I could.”
The guard laughed and walked away, he called back over his shoulder as he did, “You got fifteen to get dressed.”
Eric sat up and put his feet on the ground. He stared at the duffel bag. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to open it. He had never liked the Navy. He had never wanted to join but there was a legacy, a duty and so in the end he had signed his life away for six years. He was only two years into that six and it had already felt like a lifetime. In his little cell amongst the other inmates he was simply prisoner 21121701-X. He was anonymous and he reveled in his new anonymity. If someone asked his name he told him his first, never his last. No one knew he was ‘One of those Wintermanes’. He liked it that way.
Time ticked by the duffel bag sat there and didn’t move. For a minute Eric thought of pushing his luck but he knew the guard and knew the mountain of a man would have no problem pumping him full of tranqs and carting him off unconscious to the Warden. With a sigh Eric drug the duffel towards him, he unzipped the bag and sighed a longer heavier sigh at the neatly folded uniform he saw. Eric stood on bare feet and slid the orange jump suit off and with it his quiet life in cell 4201 as prisoner 21121701-X. He dressed in the uniform provided.
Fifteen minutes later the guard returned and Eric stood for inspection. He wore black combat fatigues neatly tucked into black combat boots. Over a white t-shirt he wore the long sleeved brown fatigues. His last name emblazoned over the right pocket for all to see. On one arm the flag of the Colonies, on the other the Naval seal. On each shoulders epaulets the single bar of an Ensign. A black beret was rolled up and shoved through the epaulet on his left shoulder. The guard smiled widely when he returned to the cell. Eric snapped to attention.
“Boy, you clean up right well.”
“Gee thanks.”
The guard slid the door to the cell open and Eric marched out with a scowl on his face as he past the still grinning guard. The guard set off past other cells whose occupants openly gawked at the transformation of their quiet neighbor. A few cat calls followed and a few others whistled. Eric took it all in with grim determination.
Eric was thinking one thing over and over again as he followed the guard out of the cell block, up an elevator to the prisons top floor and into the well appointed waiting room of the Wardens office. This had better be good.
Eric was admitted after only a few short minutes of waiting. He stood in front of the warden’s large oak desk. He barely resisted the urge to go through the papers on top of the desk. A door to the side of the dark office slid open. Eric snapped to attention when the Warden appeared. The Warden was a large man and well past middle-age. Rumor had it that he had been some big shot at one time but a falling out with some powerfully political figures had ended him up a Warden in charge of the Navies largest prison facility in the middle of a still very sparsely populated Antarctica.
The Warden circled Eric several times and then finally with a shake of his head walked to his large leather chair.
“You need a shave.”
Eric nodded, “Yes sir.”
“Do you know why you’ve been mustered?”
“No sir.”
“Neither do I. I tried to stop it you know but they over rode me.”
“They?”
“I’m assuming your family had something to do with this.”
Eric shook his head, “They are more disappointed in me than you are sir.”
That drew a smile from the Warden, “You are a disappointment to the human race Ensign.”
“Yes sir.”
Eric met the Wardens gaze. A tense silence fell over the room for several minutes. Eric was about to speak when the Warden stood up and leaned on over slightly, “Son, just remember that they can ship you back here just as easily as they’re shipping you out.”
“Yes sir.”
“Dismissed Ensign.”
Eric snapped off a crisp salute, the first he’d given in many months, spun on his heels and left the office. The door nearly slammed behind him and the guard appeared quickly.
“We’ll get you things and then you’re to report to the shuttle bays in thirty.”
“Just enough time to get into trouble.”
The guard glanced at him, “Can’t you wait until you get off-planet?”
“Why waste all those tax payer dollars to get me shipped back here.”
The guard laughed and led his former prisoner through processing.
WTF....
HAHAHAH Yeah I'm bored and feeling like I should be writing but I have nothing to write really. Correspondance helped, playing the blog has helped but I have nothing to write about...no story, no character. It's a rare thing but its true. Sad really but true so I share with anyone out there interested a few pieces of something I wrote about a year ago. It's not really going anywhere as I feel no connection to the character anymore. In fact this'll probably be as close to getting 'published' as I'll ever get! So without further adu here's chapter 1! Enjoy.
Prologue....
Prologue:
Once the universe was infinitely big and humanity thought itself to be alone. Humanity expanded as far as its limited technology allowed it. Colonies appeared on Earth’s Moon, on Saturn, Mars and a dozen other moons and planets that were discovered as humanity expanded ever outwards. Earth remained the capital of what quickly became known as the United Colonies of Earth. Humanity thrived amongst the stars and for nearly a hundred years continued to believe they were alone.
They weren’t.
On the eve of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the first human colony a ship appeared on the Colonial Navies scanners. A ship that was angling in from deep space far beyond any human colony sent ripples through the Colonies bureaucrats. The leaders of a dozen worlds convened to discuss how to meet this new threat. Some talked of destruction. Other people spoke of peace. Still other people discussed the possibilities of profit and expansion.
The new ship approached faster than any ship the Navy could throw at it. Humanity had little choice but to extend an olive branch. It was accepted. The Catalians turned out to be a feline like race. They were a warrior race trying out diplomacy and peace in the wake of a new regime. Together humans and catalians forged a peace. Humanity taught Catalians about peace, diplomacy and art while the Catalians taught humanity about war, their history and shared technology. Humanity drank it all in and began expanding once more.
Twenty-five years passed, and then another. Catalian and human relations went on and some of the aliens learned to live on Earth and her colonies. Humans were taken to Prime, the Catalian home world, and they tried to live amongst the aliens. Then things changed. Humans got greedy, the Catalian regime fell to usurpers and the once war-like race of warriors returned to their older ways. They lashed out at the inferior humans but the humans had learned and they defended their world with a tenacity that shocked the alien race. Many of them fled the Colonies and returned back home others were imprisoned on Earth. The war waged for a decade, a stalemate was declared and a treaty signed that kept the Catalians in Catalian space and the humans in theirs. A hundred years of uneasy peace existed between the two races while a large swathe of space was guarded against entry by one or the other.
The war, however, had drawn others to feed on the remnants and pieces that fell away. The Draven arrived in human control space a few decades after the end of what the Colonies called the Border War. These new winged creatures drew excitement from the scientific community but wary from the lessons learned with the Catalians humanity did not welcome them with open arms. Ambassadors and treaties were signed, technology was shared but humanity would not jump back in bed with another alien race they did not understand.
Factions arose within the Colonies, groups for expansion, other groups for isolationism some more extreme than others. In the end the popular vote was to stay isolated. The Dharquen appeared next, cousins to the Draven and obvious in their dislike for humanity and their soft ways. The Dharquen tried to invade, the Draven helped repel them. The Colonies once again expanded with new and wonderous tech. Other minor races were encountered as humanity continued their growth. The Elgin in one corner and a few other smaller less open species in another. Humanity thrived, Catalians thrived as did all the other species, but as with all good things the universes prosperity would not last forever. Jealousies ensued, demands for access to space no one had a true claim on. Colonies raided by unknown assailants and accusations tossed about like rag dolls. Once again each species withdrew into their own territories and communication nearly ceased. That was a hundred years ago. The Colonies only let four or five of each species into the colonies at a time. These visitors were heavily guarded and followed. They were allowed only on Earth and even then only in certain areas. The Draven withdrew entirely, then the Dharquen and finally a little over a decade ago the Catalians broke off communication with humanity. There were questions but answers never came. The Colonies voted to veto all further expansion. They concentrated on making the sixty some Earth colonies into thriving communities. They grew complacent, life, while not easy on the rim worlds was still good. Money was made, worlds thrived and humanity was content. As in centuries past, all good things must come to an end.....
Once the universe was infinitely big and humanity thought itself to be alone. Humanity expanded as far as its limited technology allowed it. Colonies appeared on Earth’s Moon, on Saturn, Mars and a dozen other moons and planets that were discovered as humanity expanded ever outwards. Earth remained the capital of what quickly became known as the United Colonies of Earth. Humanity thrived amongst the stars and for nearly a hundred years continued to believe they were alone.
They weren’t.
On the eve of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the first human colony a ship appeared on the Colonial Navies scanners. A ship that was angling in from deep space far beyond any human colony sent ripples through the Colonies bureaucrats. The leaders of a dozen worlds convened to discuss how to meet this new threat. Some talked of destruction. Other people spoke of peace. Still other people discussed the possibilities of profit and expansion.
The new ship approached faster than any ship the Navy could throw at it. Humanity had little choice but to extend an olive branch. It was accepted. The Catalians turned out to be a feline like race. They were a warrior race trying out diplomacy and peace in the wake of a new regime. Together humans and catalians forged a peace. Humanity taught Catalians about peace, diplomacy and art while the Catalians taught humanity about war, their history and shared technology. Humanity drank it all in and began expanding once more.
Twenty-five years passed, and then another. Catalian and human relations went on and some of the aliens learned to live on Earth and her colonies. Humans were taken to Prime, the Catalian home world, and they tried to live amongst the aliens. Then things changed. Humans got greedy, the Catalian regime fell to usurpers and the once war-like race of warriors returned to their older ways. They lashed out at the inferior humans but the humans had learned and they defended their world with a tenacity that shocked the alien race. Many of them fled the Colonies and returned back home others were imprisoned on Earth. The war waged for a decade, a stalemate was declared and a treaty signed that kept the Catalians in Catalian space and the humans in theirs. A hundred years of uneasy peace existed between the two races while a large swathe of space was guarded against entry by one or the other.
The war, however, had drawn others to feed on the remnants and pieces that fell away. The Draven arrived in human control space a few decades after the end of what the Colonies called the Border War. These new winged creatures drew excitement from the scientific community but wary from the lessons learned with the Catalians humanity did not welcome them with open arms. Ambassadors and treaties were signed, technology was shared but humanity would not jump back in bed with another alien race they did not understand.
Factions arose within the Colonies, groups for expansion, other groups for isolationism some more extreme than others. In the end the popular vote was to stay isolated. The Dharquen appeared next, cousins to the Draven and obvious in their dislike for humanity and their soft ways. The Dharquen tried to invade, the Draven helped repel them. The Colonies once again expanded with new and wonderous tech. Other minor races were encountered as humanity continued their growth. The Elgin in one corner and a few other smaller less open species in another. Humanity thrived, Catalians thrived as did all the other species, but as with all good things the universes prosperity would not last forever. Jealousies ensued, demands for access to space no one had a true claim on. Colonies raided by unknown assailants and accusations tossed about like rag dolls. Once again each species withdrew into their own territories and communication nearly ceased. That was a hundred years ago. The Colonies only let four or five of each species into the colonies at a time. These visitors were heavily guarded and followed. They were allowed only on Earth and even then only in certain areas. The Draven withdrew entirely, then the Dharquen and finally a little over a decade ago the Catalians broke off communication with humanity. There were questions but answers never came. The Colonies voted to veto all further expansion. They concentrated on making the sixty some Earth colonies into thriving communities. They grew complacent, life, while not easy on the rim worlds was still good. Money was made, worlds thrived and humanity was content. As in centuries past, all good things must come to an end.....
Its a new day....
It's crazy weird that I can sit here and share my thoughts with the world from the comfort of my break at work. Of course one has to wonder why i might feel the need to do that or even better why someone would even care what i have to say. Do blogs of non-famous people even get read? Is percieved celebrity status needed to get the world to care about us? Probably so! But then im a celebrity in my own mind so there u go.
I guess for today I have nothing profound to say but I am wondering if any novels have been written via blog? Is there an unknown author out there who wrote their whole novel in a series of blog entries just to get noticed? Hmmm I feel a good Google search coming on.
I guess for today I have nothing profound to say but I am wondering if any novels have been written via blog? Is there an unknown author out there who wrote their whole novel in a series of blog entries just to get noticed? Hmmm I feel a good Google search coming on.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
It's been a while...
It's been a while and life hasn't changed much really. I seem to be getting along just fine in life. The family is good, I'm good. I think really that that is all that matters. I live each moment in life like its my last. It seems to focus my thoughts on the here and now and not what should be...or could be. It's eliminated the 'what if' and the 'if only' feelings that seem to crowd into the minds of almost everyone I run into. At work the idea that one person 'should be' doing this or that is so dominate that it has slowly destroyed the moral there. I don't quite get it though. I don't disagree that certain people in management 'should be' doing something one way or the other, in fact often times I agree with the individuals verbalizing it. There is, however, a moment when the 'should be' turned into their idea of what reality 'should be'. It has caused a great deal of suffering.
If these people simply live in reality they'd feel better. End of story. I injured myself this morning during a rare Saturday morning class at the dojo. It hurts and I'm sitting here at home putting ice on my knees on a regualr basis. Going up and down stairs kills and I know tomorrow is going to suck. However I am not lying here in misery. Why not, you ask? Well its because I'm not sitting here comparing my current status to what I think it 'should be'. It is the state that I am in right now. Comparing it to healthy knees or some other state is pointless because that moment doesn't exist. Painfull knees and soreness is what exists right now and therefore should be the only think I concern myself with. Makes sense? It does to me and that's really all that matters.
If these people simply live in reality they'd feel better. End of story. I injured myself this morning during a rare Saturday morning class at the dojo. It hurts and I'm sitting here at home putting ice on my knees on a regualr basis. Going up and down stairs kills and I know tomorrow is going to suck. However I am not lying here in misery. Why not, you ask? Well its because I'm not sitting here comparing my current status to what I think it 'should be'. It is the state that I am in right now. Comparing it to healthy knees or some other state is pointless because that moment doesn't exist. Painfull knees and soreness is what exists right now and therefore should be the only think I concern myself with. Makes sense? It does to me and that's really all that matters.
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