Saturday, November 26, 2011
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Laser Planet One
Blogger doesn't seem to like indents. I hope this doesn't ruin the experience for you.
-----
Captain Jeremiah and his rocket-pack squad of mercenaries were patrolling the space between the earth and the moon.
“Sector FZ-784G-QS-LL-L all clear,” said Jeremiah on his radio, shortly after incinerating a spacedactyl with his high-powered hand-held power-handlaser.
Willie, the squad’s science sergeant, was utterly flabbergasted. “Leapin’ lasers!” he exclaimed. “The velocity with which you aligned your laser’s trajectory with the position of that tractus dactylanus is incalculable!”
The squad laughed. “Why don’t you tell us that again, this time in English?” said Brando Blade, the squad’s lieutenant of lasersplosives.
Willie blushed. “All I’m saying is you’re the best, captain!”
“Damn right,” replied Jeremiah. The squad laughed again.
Jeremiah pressed a button to open the visor on his space helmet. He reached up and thoughtfully combed his moustache with his fingers. “Hey Willie, wasn’t that critter a little far from home, for a spacedactyl?”
Willie pulled out his pocket-sized miniature laser-computer from his pocket. “Hmm,” he said. “According to my calculations, that tractus dactylanus was 6.4516129032258064516129065 to the power of negative 9 parsecs – 200,000 miles – away from its home planet, the moon. Any first-year space-student knows that a spacedactyl only goes that far out if it’s…”
“If it’s running from something.” Jeremiah closed his visor so he could breathe again. “All troops set power-jets to combat mode. We’re goin’ to the moon, boys!”
All at once, the ten-person space-squad blasted towards the moon, their power-jets leaving behind a booming fireworks display of blasting power-fire. They cruised past the ancient abandoned space shuttles of the twenty-second century, soaring expertly around the poison nebula clouds and dangerous meteor fields that riddled their space-path. In about five minutes, they arrived on the surface of the moon. Up ahead, Jeremiah could see a group of eerie spacemen spookily laser-repairing their strange moon jeep.
Brando Blade spoke first. “Something about those spacemen up ahead give me the creepy crawlies,” he said.
“Don’t be such a scaredy-borg,” replied Jeremiah.
Brando Blade looked embarrassed and tried to assume a more tough-looking posture.
“There’s no reason for us to be afraid of a few spooky spacemen,” continued Jeremiah. “For all we know, they could be Good Guys.” With that, he holstered his power-handlaser and began walking assertively toward the spacemen. The squad followed.
Before they reached them, Willie tapped Jeremiah on the shoulder and whispered: “Captain, the sensors on my laser-computer are detecting an unusually high fluctuation in electro-magnetic frequencies.”
Jeremiah nodded and turned to Brando Blade. “Lieutenant,” he said.
Brando Blade looked spooked out. “Yes, captain?”
“Set… set your laser-grenades to Ghost.”
-----
Captain Jeremiah and his rocket-pack squad of mercenaries were patrolling the space between the earth and the moon.
“Sector FZ-784G-QS-LL-L all clear,” said Jeremiah on his radio, shortly after incinerating a spacedactyl with his high-powered hand-held power-handlaser.
Willie, the squad’s science sergeant, was utterly flabbergasted. “Leapin’ lasers!” he exclaimed. “The velocity with which you aligned your laser’s trajectory with the position of that tractus dactylanus is incalculable!”
The squad laughed. “Why don’t you tell us that again, this time in English?” said Brando Blade, the squad’s lieutenant of lasersplosives.
Willie blushed. “All I’m saying is you’re the best, captain!”
“Damn right,” replied Jeremiah. The squad laughed again.
Jeremiah pressed a button to open the visor on his space helmet. He reached up and thoughtfully combed his moustache with his fingers. “Hey Willie, wasn’t that critter a little far from home, for a spacedactyl?”
Willie pulled out his pocket-sized miniature laser-computer from his pocket. “Hmm,” he said. “According to my calculations, that tractus dactylanus was 6.4516129032258064516129065 to the power of negative 9 parsecs – 200,000 miles – away from its home planet, the moon. Any first-year space-student knows that a spacedactyl only goes that far out if it’s…”
“If it’s running from something.” Jeremiah closed his visor so he could breathe again. “All troops set power-jets to combat mode. We’re goin’ to the moon, boys!”
All at once, the ten-person space-squad blasted towards the moon, their power-jets leaving behind a booming fireworks display of blasting power-fire. They cruised past the ancient abandoned space shuttles of the twenty-second century, soaring expertly around the poison nebula clouds and dangerous meteor fields that riddled their space-path. In about five minutes, they arrived on the surface of the moon. Up ahead, Jeremiah could see a group of eerie spacemen spookily laser-repairing their strange moon jeep.
Brando Blade spoke first. “Something about those spacemen up ahead give me the creepy crawlies,” he said.
“Don’t be such a scaredy-borg,” replied Jeremiah.
Brando Blade looked embarrassed and tried to assume a more tough-looking posture.
“There’s no reason for us to be afraid of a few spooky spacemen,” continued Jeremiah. “For all we know, they could be Good Guys.” With that, he holstered his power-handlaser and began walking assertively toward the spacemen. The squad followed.
Before they reached them, Willie tapped Jeremiah on the shoulder and whispered: “Captain, the sensors on my laser-computer are detecting an unusually high fluctuation in electro-magnetic frequencies.”
Jeremiah nodded and turned to Brando Blade. “Lieutenant,” he said.
Brando Blade looked spooked out. “Yes, captain?”
“Set… set your laser-grenades to Ghost.”
Friday, April 2, 2010
Dreamy Weamy
We were at an outdoor McDonalds for some reason, I think we were starving and other places weren't open, including grocery stores. It was very busy, and there was a new system of ordering that I didn't understand. I spent half an hour trying to get a staff member's attention.
Then, a grey wind came and covered everything in dust. My friends and I took cover behind the particle-board of a construction site wall.
When the wind stopped, everything was different. Most people were gone, and something was wrong with those who had stayed. They stood dumbly and wouldn't speak when addressed. Some held pieces of rebar or baseball bats, but they didn't use them.
We spent the afternoon walking across the city, trying to find a healthy person. For hours, all we could find were the dumb people, but eventually we heard motorcycles. In a moment, four or five people that I could only describe as "serious suvivors" cruised by on racing bikes. They all wore black masks, backpacks and leather biking jackets. On their backs they carried assortment of weapons, including baseball bats, nailboards, and rifles. We waved and yelled at them, but they didn't even give us a second look. They were busy getting somewhere and surviving, and we were useless and potentially dangerous to them.
It was embarrassing.
Then, a grey wind came and covered everything in dust. My friends and I took cover behind the particle-board of a construction site wall.
When the wind stopped, everything was different. Most people were gone, and something was wrong with those who had stayed. They stood dumbly and wouldn't speak when addressed. Some held pieces of rebar or baseball bats, but they didn't use them.
We spent the afternoon walking across the city, trying to find a healthy person. For hours, all we could find were the dumb people, but eventually we heard motorcycles. In a moment, four or five people that I could only describe as "serious suvivors" cruised by on racing bikes. They all wore black masks, backpacks and leather biking jackets. On their backs they carried assortment of weapons, including baseball bats, nailboards, and rifles. We waved and yelled at them, but they didn't even give us a second look. They were busy getting somewhere and surviving, and we were useless and potentially dangerous to them.
It was embarrassing.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Here is a poem that does not have a title, and no, this is not the title
When they built this church
It was an architectural marvel
A pointed stone roof, stronger than the classic round vault
Gaping wide arches let in a fantastic amount of light
I'm glad I came here in Autumn
I'm glad I came here with you
I wonder when a pair of lovers first walked through this doorway
How often did people fall in love in the twelfth century?
That's not in the history books
There are no Latin records of who was kissing in the transepts,
No physical evidence of forbidden feelings scratched into the nave walls
Today the transepts are locked with steel bolts
But I'm glad it's twentieth century France
And I can kiss you
Right here
It was an architectural marvel
A pointed stone roof, stronger than the classic round vault
Gaping wide arches let in a fantastic amount of light
I'm glad I came here in Autumn
I'm glad I came here with you
I wonder when a pair of lovers first walked through this doorway
How often did people fall in love in the twelfth century?
That's not in the history books
There are no Latin records of who was kissing in the transepts,
No physical evidence of forbidden feelings scratched into the nave walls
Today the transepts are locked with steel bolts
But I'm glad it's twentieth century France
And I can kiss you
Right here
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Saturday, August 1, 2009
I thought about when she asked me to lunch and expected everything to be back to normal. I brought it up right away, which launched her into a rant about how she is the victim and it is not fair. Then I would make a point and she would say "I guess I'm just a bad person." It went on for about forty-five minutes. She was being irrational and communicating very poorly. Something was my fault but I couldn't see how. Then she mentioned Tash. Then she said something else. Then I slammed my fist on the table and yelled "I DIDN'T-" and then she said "don't yell at me, I'm leaving." She'd left her bag in the car so I had to go unlock the door for her. People in the Subway were staring at us, I guess I yelled pretty loud. She yelled at me when we got outside, then she mentioned Tash again and I said "not everyone's like you, some people give a shit." It was a very clever line and it left her speechless and angry.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
"Love Notes"
On Sunday night I thought about love and girlfriends. I took notes down to help me sort my thoughts out. They also inspired me to write some sweet poems. As the night wore on, I feared that I would "disregard them all because I wrote them late last night." To counter this, I decided to disallow myself from reading them until Wednesday. Well now it is Tuesday but it is night time so really that's close enough. If you get bored you should skip to the two poems.
Here it is, word for word:
Love Notes
Reasons to fall in love:
-Hawksley Workman tells me to
-A focus in life that doesn't beg all the focus
-A healthy relationship would make me feel needed and therefore give me purpose and will to succeed
-Would be able to confront sexual insecurities.
-Split the rent (just kidding but seriously).
Reasons not to fall in love:
-Time-consuming
-Requires serious commitment
-Other people have other stupid problems
-Emotional risk
-Sexual insecurities may pose a problem
How to fall in love:
-Meet new people (criteria: intelligent, moral, rational, positive)
-Seek out groups and situations where some criteria are likely to be met
-Spend considerable time with people for whom attraction is felt.
Twirling on the ice you beautiful drunken queen
My friend who was also my first love
I wish you well and hope you change
Wading in the water
On that August day that I had you all to myself
I was filled with joyous thoughts of
Hope, love, optimism, and wanting to kiss you
This Joel thing* is bad closure to this chapter of my life. It is a dirty time and I want it to go away.
Things to keep in mind in the pursuit of happiness:
-Remain in contact with people (any people). Try to have at least one social event a week. I suppose these will have to land on Friday/Saturday/Sunday.
-Get a great place with no problems. Total privacy is a must, but be sure to balance this with the first point.
-Keep organization in mind when looking at places. Excessive laziness/messiness perpetuates depression.
-Sleep. Water. Foodgroups.
I think that these are good thoughts+poems, but I fear I will disregard them all because I wrote them "late last night." I think this may in part be due to me remembering them too thorougly and dismissing them as "already locked away" rather than reflecting on them. So, I will read this on Wednesday at the earliest!
It is 11.42 pm, Sunday July 19, 2009
---
*[Joel was the roommate who stole my food.]
Here it is, word for word:
Love Notes
Reasons to fall in love:
-Hawksley Workman tells me to
-A focus in life that doesn't beg all the focus
-A healthy relationship would make me feel needed and therefore give me purpose and will to succeed
-Would be able to confront sexual insecurities.
-Split the rent (just kidding but seriously).
Reasons not to fall in love:
-Time-consuming
-Requires serious commitment
-Other people have other stupid problems
-Emotional risk
-Sexual insecurities may pose a problem
How to fall in love:
-Meet new people (criteria: intelligent, moral, rational, positive)
-Seek out groups and situations where some criteria are likely to be met
-Spend considerable time with people for whom attraction is felt.
Twirling on the ice you beautiful drunken queen
My friend who was also my first love
I wish you well and hope you change
Wading in the water
On that August day that I had you all to myself
I was filled with joyous thoughts of
Hope, love, optimism, and wanting to kiss you
This Joel thing* is bad closure to this chapter of my life. It is a dirty time and I want it to go away.
Things to keep in mind in the pursuit of happiness:
-Remain in contact with people (any people). Try to have at least one social event a week. I suppose these will have to land on Friday/Saturday/Sunday.
-Get a great place with no problems. Total privacy is a must, but be sure to balance this with the first point.
-Keep organization in mind when looking at places. Excessive laziness/messiness perpetuates depression.
-Sleep. Water. Foodgroups.
I think that these are good thoughts+poems, but I fear I will disregard them all because I wrote them "late last night." I think this may in part be due to me remembering them too thorougly and dismissing them as "already locked away" rather than reflecting on them. So, I will read this on Wednesday at the earliest!
It is 11.42 pm, Sunday July 19, 2009
---
*[Joel was the roommate who stole my food.]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
