Monday, November 30, 2009

Will's First Time Shooting

Saturday, the 28th of November, was my son Will's 20th birthday.

There were many reminiscences about his birth and childhood

He was taken c-section and there was some concern he might have ingested some poop, so they used a suction tube on him, with a resulting 'Wah-shlurp, wah shlurp'.

Under the heat lamp his eyes widened and he stretched out his arms as he responded to the sound of my voice. He knew it well since I had been reading to him in the womb. Much Shakespeare etc was shared. I kid him about the arm stretching and eyes, calling it his 'creature from the black lagoon imitation'.

There are so many but one of my other favorites happened a few years later.

We were standing in a field. I had just demonstrated how to fire my Maadi AKesque weapon.

I then placed it in his hands and helped him shoulder it.

I cautioned him to just squeeze the trigger keeping it down range and point it down after finger off trigger.

The look of trust he gave me bespoke that he overcame his initial fear.

He let fly.

And he stayed in position with barrel down, finger off the trigger.

Then, I asked just one more thing of him. I requested that he fire just one more round down range.

He did so and any further fear was gone. The mystery was solved and the terror monster vanquished.

I praised him and he smiled as we continued shooting from that time onward.

He's quite good by the way if I say so myself!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Nocturne 3

It was snowing like nigh onto a storm one night in the hood.

I ventured out, even though it was bad, because we needed something from the store.

A long trek. Through the snow, bundled up. Out of gas, out of time. Out of energy except for getting to and from.

I noticed something strange.

That's not a big deal considering the weird way if the street,

I was being folloed.

Again, not too odd, in this neck of the woods.

As was my wont, I was in 'condition yellow', ready to fight, even in the snow.

I turned and saw him.

He was just a 'guy' maybe average height and dressed in average clothes.

Except for his teeth.

He was snarling and his teeth were long and sharp.

Hand on my gun, I smiled and watched as he came closer, impeded by the snow.

He continued to snarl and his teeth were, well sharp looking and long.

I challenged him and he backed off a little as I neared the corner.

I crossed the street and he remained behind.

I finished my business and when I came out of the store, he was gone.

All the way home, I was alone and wondered where he had gone. Til morning.

There was a 'murder' the night before, near my street.

The news said it was a 'mugging'.

Sure. Right.

Then again, that's all that happened on 10th Street.

Nocturne 2

I was walking on 10th Stret. Strange, mercurial place, it was early Spring.

Dusk had settled the argument into night.

There was a still almost static air.

I had a few drinks in me, so I was fortified against the wind and chill.

I was trotting along, noting the usual 'sites'.

There are some old buildings along the way and places long gone.

The 'Puck Around' was such a place.

It was a working class bar, with the commensurate guys and gals.

I remember sitting, drinking Jack and a beer back. There was a guy who calmly smoked cigs and sipped his beer. He stared into space as he sought to relieve his stress.

There was something comforting about his routine. Also just a little odd. Not creepy, just obsessive.

But then, that's not too odd in a bar after al -s-.

Working folks would belly up and seek relaxation with some eating and some using the poker machines.

Of course, there were some who overdid, some with a problem in just being there.

Many regulars and a few newbies.

I went there every now and then when I wanted a spot of booze nearby.

One Thanksgiving, after seeing a movie, I was forced to walk from the theater out on the east side home.

Fortunately the folks who owned it opened it for a bit that night.

Maybe they were giving some of us a break from families lol.

At any reate, to make a short story long as I often do, I frequently walked home, taking care I was only warmed up, not 'overheated' as it were.

On the aforesaid evening, I was walking home after dark, always a curious time on that stretch of street.

There were the usual hookers, pimps and assorted miscreants. And, as was the wont of this place, something else.

I was coming up on the Rivoli theater. It was an old second run movie house that used to have first run stuff in the 30's and 40's. A piece of history that in its sunset years became second run then turned into a concert venue along with vintage movie weekends replete with a great show organ concert thrown in.

I remember how bad it got when I saw a roach crawl across the top of the seat in front of me. Ugh.

It got worse from there, until it closed. Worn out and deserted, yet the owner still lived in an apartment above. It was said to be haunted. More on that later.

It had begun to mist and I reflexively pulled my jacket collar up and tighter.

As I did, I glanced at the side street.

Coming my way was what appeared to be a young woman, in a dark coat, but with no hat.

It was a cold night for early Spring. Such was not unusual as the weather segued often.

As soon as I spotted this 'girl', the temp dropped considerably. I looked at her slow steady trudge toward 10th-and me.

My first thought was a 'crack whore' stoned. She stumbled and keeping my distance, something at which I was a past master in this part of town, I yelled, 'Are you ok?'

The noticed my voice then me. It seemed to 'excite' her, in that she increased her odd swaying pace.

I backed away,, my hand on my gun. Yes crack whores can rob and kill, for those who don't know.

Still I watched her progress. She was concentrating on the sight of me and as she got closer, the temperature decreased to a crazy cold-very unspringlike.

Her mouth opened but there was no sound, at least nothing discernable. Her hands writhed and seemed clawlike.

Mind you even at this hour and after dark, there was little traffic, whatever good that would do, just in case.

I beat a hasty retreat, keeping my eyes open.

Sure enough she reached 10th Street and began walking in my direction, the same lumbering but steady pace ensuring if I stayed she would catch up to me. No thanks.

I sped up and notice she again disappeared as if she did not want to attract attention on a main thoroughfare.

Ever a stickler for details, the last thing that ran through my mind were several holes and stains on her coat.......

Maybe it was motheaten and she was just dirty.

I know what you're thinking. A zombie? Nah.

My guess, if it were something supernatural, would be a kind of soul sucker, perhaps a bad spirit in form that drains lifeforce. That would explain the extreme temp drop. They also stay in the shadows as did this Miss Ugh of the new millenium. Spirit ghoul and not a vampire, at least not a hot one like the girls in black I and my son encountered earlier.

But hey, that stuff doesn't exist, even on 10th Street, right?

Visit In A Meadow


This soft murmur and the stroking of my brow woke me to brilliant sunlight. And those most beautiful eyes gazing down at mine.

'You are well', She said. She knew.

And I was indeed.

Lying in a flowered meadow, in soft green grass. Soaking up the sun. Looking up at the eyes that regarded me now with compassion and healing.

Her face, the same porcelain Celtic features, was framed by that long, tow headed aura, though now instead of being straight, it was curled and billowy.

My head was cradled in her lap, resting as she hummed something from the past that was timeless.

And yes my Sword was still within reach. It always will be.

'You were sifted like wheat as your ancestor said.' She smiled and touched my forehead. 'It is not finished. But you must rest before fighting begins anew.'

I thought about what had transpired in that place across the golden sky, over the silver sea. That place where the ancestors of Freedom rested. That other place of trial and triumph.

'You will never forget. It will serve you well for what's ahead. The Great Storm.'
She continued to strike my forehead and hum the old tune.

I wondered if what had happened was a dream or vision.

'It was quite real, dear Michael. The battle takes place in the invisible World as well as the visible.'

'You mean, I killed that...woman and the others. I hope so.'

'In a manner of speaking. It was as real as say, the War In Heaven. Lucia has always had an inflated sense of self', she smiled eye to eye. 'Is that not the nature, in both worlds, of the dark ones? They inflate themselves with false light.'

'Our Brother also was quite right that you must see to your own destiny. Those such as Lucia would rob you of that.'

Lucia, what a lulu, I thought echoing the line from the 3 Stooges complete with 'woowoowoos'.

She laughed, such a vibrant chord, hinting of nature's bounty, of the nurturing good humored being She was.

'Dear one, you knew all along about her nature. Those thoughts about dark things were emanations from your gifts.'

'It was so vivid. That house was a prison that I could have well embraced. Save for what I knew, and the people in both worlds, I would have been trapped in a web of endless 'tail chasing'.' I thought of all who just did so, chased their tails and how they would be found wanting. I shuddered, both pitying and repulsed.

She deigned to lightly kiss my forehead and gestured.

'That Sword. It is nothing without will and intent. Many have been found wanting and gifts wasted as they fail life's trials. You have not, so far. And fallen, you have gotten up. But remember it is constant and renewal is such that you cannot ever take it for granted. Be mindful of all that has happened and all that will.'

'Are we sure for what we fight? I do not doubt about a war between good and evil, nor that place between the worlds. But, in the visible world, it is easy to lose track and be caught up in fighting for fighting's sake. Is there more?'

Instead of any anger or discomfiture, She simply said, 'Close your eyes.'

She touched my forehead again and instantly I was carried away from the meadow, through the air, away from Earth.

As I passed from Earth, I saw all the battles on all levels fought over time for Freedom.

I was carried out of the solar system, past many more and all the wonders of the galaxy. Then past more galaxues and their mysteries as yet revealed to us.

Still travelling, I beheld creation and at the same 'time' I travelled, I witnessed the birth of the universe, like a great pink and white silent explosion.

As I passed the edge of the universe, I noticed the sound of Spirit raised in perpetual voice and Mind.

Then I seemed to slow down and saw the entire universe, all of Creation as if a tiny pinprick of Light, much like a single star on a clear night.

There was darkness and yet not in the sense of earthly symbolism.

Past the din there was a Presence that dwelled quietly, great energy that did not have to show itself, save for that quiet Power.

I reckoned it's what the American Indians call the Great Mystery, for want of a better thought. The Origin, not a bang nor a whimper. It was a Place that could not really be breached nor understood. It just was.

It was not frightening. It was simply not available to human nor angel nor anything. It simply WAS.

Softly and slowly I came back beckoned by Her touch.

As I opened my eyes She kissed my forehead and said, 'Welcome back.'

I now knew there was MUCH more and that we were NOT alone. That faith and action dwelled together, always, no matter what anyone in this creation knew or believed.

Mysteries beyond mysteries existed.

Would I doubt again? Probably. Most assuredly. It's like when I was a kid and tried to figure out where God came from.

I'd try to wrap my mind around that, try to figure out where something that always was could be from.

I'd eventually get kind of dizzy and leave it alone. It was enough that we are HERE.

As in the world of acting there are the given circumstances of the play, movie etc, so it is for all of us.

Here we are in the given circumstance of a battle for Freedom.

It is enough.

She rose and took my hand helping me up.

I looked at Her in the soft sun and meadow wind.

Her hair was indeed curled and fuller, cascading down that porcelain skin.

She wore a new dress.

It was long like the blue one but was a bit lower in front. The print was light and suggested flowers. It shimmered with energy.

She had weaved a flower 'halo' and it circled her head.

'Remember Michael', her voice was warm but firm. 'There are pressures in the visible World. And when you think all is well, do not be cossetted in a delusion that this war is over.

Tend to your daily life and take time to enjoy all your gifts.

Let that enjoyment be motivation to do well and never give up.'

She took the garland from her head and gave it to me, with a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of the hand.

I slowly came back to this World and swore that I could smell the grass and flowers, and feel her kiss and touch of benison for me and to the sky.

Post Script:

When I got down to my office, there was a ring of flowers on the table with a note. It was from my daughter.

It said, Dad, thanks for all our yesterdays. We will toast all of our tomorrows.

Love always.....

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Visiting Others 5

With my Sword and the skills hard learned, it was not as nearly daunting as the woman of the house had said. Yet.

The courage welled up in my heart and met the training I had received. My thoughts were once more on the Path. I would need it soon.

A sound, like a soft scratching began to build.

I sensed eyes on me.

They all attacked at once, not like the staged martial arts where one at a time comes at the 'hero'. My Sword flashed.

Dark things, barely visible, like a horde of devil dogs. Then some kind of large black draped warriors. My blade found mark after mark.

There were cuts and a few bites, but the Sword 'sang' its song of death for the enemy. My thrusts were true, til a pile of bodies surrounded me, and the sound of snarls and roars subsided.

I fell to my knees, exhausted, head giving thanks.

Lucia descended. Now dressed in black. Her hair pulled back and her eyes like lightning. Her butler attended her.

She sneered, 'What price victory? They are gone, but I have beaten you.'

She laughed and got in my face, her mouth pulled from her teeth.

'Do you see, do you? You should have taken my invitation. No matter, you are mine anyway.'

She stood haughtily as she brought a blade to bear.

'What is my job, you worm?'

I stared up through blood and sweat drenched eyes.

'To die, you bitch.'

I rolled and flipped up and the Sword found her heart then her head went sailing in the opposite direction as her body fell. Not stopping, her 'butler' suffered a similar fate. Their sneers etched with surprise remained visible.

Silence and over the stench of death, I heard a stream rushing.

I trudged in the direction of the sound, soon bathing wounds and face. Then, I knelt and gave thanks. It's something I do btw, in the visible world a lot. I thank Great Spirit for all things, for it is from all things that we learn.

As I rested and then started on the Path again, I swear I heard Xeroubiko, a Byzantine chant and also undertones of a gyoto monk chant from Tibet. Soundtracks? Light begetting Light.

As I continued, I wondered at the darkish skies. Was it dying light or darkest before the dawn?

'You're in the twilight world, bud.'

As I turned the umpteenth corner in this puzzle, I saw someone seemingly basking on top of a large boulder just off the Path.

I readied my Sword, but saw a familiar face.

It was the man who fought back to back on the desert plain in my vision within a vision. It occurred to me that then as any time, when we were fighting, it was not for Jerusalem, nor home and hearth at that point. It was for one another. later came triumph over the darkness.

It was true just a while ago, as I slew that horde of dark things. Holding that thought, I yelled out, 'Where the hell were you a while ago? I could have used some backup.'

He sat up and grinned then smiled. Interestingly, it reminded me of that devil may care grin of Steve McQueen's, complete with sparkling, piercing blue eyes, replete with wrinkles from the sun and much of that same grinning.

'So, she was a real ballbuster huh?'

'She tried.'

'And died I see. She almost got me before. That place was pretty nice, for a honey trap.'

I arched eyebrows and asked, 'You were at that house? When?'

'Time means nothing here, bud. This is the place 'between the worlds' as that blondie told you. This is either twilight or predawn. It's either headed to perpetual dark or perpetual Light. Depends on who and what you serve eh?'

He tapped the red stone adorning his sword hilt.

'Ever wonder about this? It's part of the job description. We are on the same tag team'. Again that in the face smile. 'Remember. You are never alone.' He pursed his lips and nodded.

I touched the similar red stone topping my hilt. I must be careful to take nothing for granted.

He looked up, reflexively squinting and said, 'Enough of this twilight stuff. Ready for some predawn?'

I nodded and smiled my half crooked smile.

He jumped from the rock and slapped me on the shoulder. 'Right this way my brother. Time for some r & r back at your place.'

We took off toward an increasingly level straight road, the sun hinting it's new day.

I woke up. Dark room and jazz still playing.

I knew that after r & r, there would come the inevitable battle. I knew this was far from over.

I'd better keep getting ready.

Visiting Others 4

Dinner came.

Seared steak, with asparagus and garlic pasta suited me well. I have eaten in many a place and many a cuisine. But I prefer the basics. I was not disappointed.

Of course, she knew what I liked. At least she thought she did.

Through the meal, I couldn't get over the feeling I was being fattened up as it were, though I'm quite fit. Perhaps bribery came closer. What was she hunting for?

'Yes, I love to hunt. I live to hunt', she oddly answered as that thought crossed my mind.

'So do I', and I smiled at the purpose that brought me this far on this journey.

Simple enough, yet much effort.

'It might be fun to try our skills later', she added as I remembered her invitation to swordplay.

'I have no time for such diversions, my Lady. I appreciate your hospitality, but I must be soon on my Way.'

She frowned and puckered a little.

'We'll see',she smiled.

It was a face accustomed to smiling. About what was the question.

The light around it, golden and beguilingly soft, flared suddenly as the questions began.

'May I ask what is so compelling that you could not spend some time with me?' That last caused what seemed to be a flash that reached out like a solar flare.

'I am on a Path seeking Light.' Succinct but pleasant, I remained composed.

'Ah, she arched an eyebrow, 'Perhaps I can help you. We have a supply here. Stay and see.' She leaned back and poised a foot under another, slightly twitching up and down, to and fro.

'Sorry dear Lady, but the Light I seek is on the road. It is found in motion and intent.' My gaze was strong and I did not take my eyes off her. All the time, as well, I kept my peripheral vision in full motion.

'Another drink?' She was ready to profer the drink tray herself.

'No thanks. I needn't get sleepy. I must stay sharp, for there are things which contest me.' I shifted so that I might spring up.

'At least some dessert? We have many treats to tempt you.' That smile again like the glow of a fireplace.

'No thanks, for I must shortly go.' I felt the need to scan my back.

'At least a small cigar and coffee? Then I will walk you to the Path myself.'

I regarded her and my eyes narrowed.

The butler proferred a small case with old patterns imbued on the sides. I selected a small post prandial smoke that, when lit, smelled like a Danish brand I used to smoke when I was much younger.

The coffee was good and strong. Reminded me of the coffee my Mom would make on Sundays for brunch. And I might need it for the next leg of the journey.

'So, Michael, you seek knowledge. We have that here too. And the added benefit', she leaned forward, no one will disturb you. You can take your time. Study what you will. Come, take a peek at our library. We aim to please', she smiled, rose and held out her hand.

Call me a fool, but I took it. Her touch was now quite soft but vibrant. It caused a tingle in my throat. My other hand remained on my Sword's hilt.

A connecting door in the panelled wall behind her opened automatically and we stepped through to what could only be described as the largest private collection of books and artifacts I had ever seen.

It was several stories high and covered three walls. The other was a window looking out on the oppostie direction from which I had come.

'What does your heart desire? Are there specifics? Do you wish erudition and do you crave skills to match?. More and more learning about the visible and invisible. You could stay here forever searching and I would take care of you.

Recreation? We have so many forms and diversions. I'd be willing to show you...myself.'

She leaned up and kissed me. It was a rush of sensation, like a thousand beating wings, like a warm night in from the cold. It coursed through my bidy like fine drink, both exciting and dizzying.

I wavered and quivered. I could see and feel what she was saying. I COULD stay there. And those many doors upstairs, any desire I could imagine.......


Like Odysseus and Circe or Prospero imprisoned and imprisoning I could waste myself in a circular race to slavery. There would be no end to the inward turning, til I was lost in a maze of self. Looking inside, but never going out again.

I broke the embrace off still gently and shook my head.

'Dear Lucia, my journey MUST go outward. It starts within but must reach out or all is lost.'

'Very well. The clothes you wore here await you. Change quickly and I will take you to the Path.'

Her eyes were slits yet I was surprised how easily she acquiesced.

Back at the room, I transferred the contents of my pockets back to my travelling wear and the Sword was ready at my side.

At the bottom of the stairs, she beckoned me, ready.

She took me to a door which lead to the causeway on the other side of the great house.

'Come, Michael. I will take you as far as I can.'

She led off and the way was well lit, but quickly faded at the opposing causeway.

'Here is where I leave you. Once over the causeway, there is no more protection. You will be prey to whatever is biding it's time, for time will be your enemy.
Good and evil will continue the battle for you. There will be no quarter. You have made your choice. Now, goodbye.'

She waved me off like discarding a vestment.

I turned my back, spurning for good her prideful trap.

I did not look back til I was at the ingress to the Path.

The light from the house had dimmed and when I looked, it was no longer there. All that remained was the ruins of of a hunter's shack, like a live coal that had died out.

Turning back, the only light again from my Sword, I pressed on.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Visiting Others 3

As soon as I stepped to the right, I felt the shifting. Any other paths were closed. Only the path ahead remained. I curved to the left.

Just ahead, there appeared a large house on a hill. Yellow lights festooned the windows and reflected the path which led to a causeway that curved to what appeared to be the housefront.

As I reached the causeway, there appeared a visage quite clearly dressed in white and red robes.

He held up a gloved hand. His other was resting on the pommel of a singlehanded broadsword, with a red stone in the hilt.

'Why have you come this way?' His tone and expression were not cold, nor were they impassioned.

'I am on my Path seeking Light.'

'You must see to your own destiny. No one can choose for you. Be ready.'

A warning from a guard? No, not a guard, a reminder of free will.

He gestured for me to pass.

Worthiness on this journey was up to me.

As has become the standard in this place, I looked back to note he was gone, as was the path behind me. Onward.

The house ahead was sizable. Many mansions came to mind. It was stone, several stories and spread over a small plateau and was surrounded by a tall forest. The lights were not just at the windows, but at doors and a goodly large courtyard. It was smooth and it did not tax my feet as I strode across it. The smell of pine and, was that patchouli?, filled the air.

All I sensed was potential. Neither good nor evil. For all I knew this place was full of both.

I reached the large wooden door. It was deep, dark wood. the knocker was a plain brass bulb.

When I knocked, a middle aged man in a dark suit answered.

'Who are you?', he asked as if to question my soul. His gaze was even and not unpleasant from dark eyes glistening with light.

I gave him my name and my purpose.

'Please come in and follow me.'

The door opened to a foyer that expanded laterally and the forward view showed a stairwell of polished stone. We walked across a parqueted, black and white floor.

Up the stairs and to the right there were seemingly endless doors to what I presumed to be bedrooms.

The 'butler' showed me to one a ways down and opened the door.

'Please come in and refresh yourself. I will be back presently to take you to your Host.' He smiled and swept his outstreched arm, indicating a well lit room in muted colors and dark wood, not unlike my own bedroom.

As he left, I noticed fresh casual clothes laid out on a large bed and a bright bathroom nearby.

I showered and a great amount of dust and sweat cascaded with soft water in a stepin shower again similar to my own. I felt the dirt of strife and trial leave me, and I was cleansed, ready to face whatever came.

I dressed and meditated, waiting to be taken to my Host.

The Twilight Zone episode where the gangster died and was taken to a great hotel and given whatever he wanted came to mind. He was smothered in material things and complained til it was made clear he was not in Heaven as he thought originally, but in 'the other place'. I bided my time and chatted with Great Spirit.

I was taken to a desert plain. Hordes were swarming and my comrade and I fought back to back. He was blonde with short hair and piercing blue eyes. Through the din, he said to me,'You are never alone.', smiling in the face of overwhelming odds.

Shortly, there was a discreet tapping and a 'sir'.

I jumped up immediately, as is my custom (I don't like surprises.) and opened the door.

The 'butler' had a cordial smile.

'I trust you are sufficiently refreshed and ready to meet the Host?'

I simply nodded and he silently led the way back down the stairs and into a small room off the main dining hall.

It was a cheerful wood and brass setting with a fireplace and a table for four set for just two, with silverware and china quite like the kind from holidays in my childhood.

I was seated silently and funnily, as the 'butler' moved away, I thought of 'Clove' the servant of Dracula who watched over the castle til there were suitable victims to use in bringing back the Count from 'death'.

What a cheat that would be, avoiding judgment by killing humans for sustenance (Even if some of them deserved it.). Would that not be its own punishment, cursed to an undead existence? Supposed 'immortality' with a price of blood. Quite the opposite of the Christian blood sacrifice of Jesus. Quite the opposite of facing reality by replacing it with a 'delusional reality'. Dracula, the disfunctional vampire lol.

My musings were interrupted by the opening of the door.

The light of the dining hall seemed to form a halo, an aura of gold around an unmistakably feminine form. She closed the door and came right to the table, no fanfare.

She seemed to be a woman in her thirties, well kept and quite beautiful, like the Woman who visited me. And not like her as well.

Her hair was blonde, gold rather and moderately short. She wore casual clothes quite like a well off professional might wear on the weekend. Tan shirt with a yellow t-shirt under, tan slacks and desert boots.

The difference was not just the clothes. Her beauty was undeniable. Yet she kept something hidden, whereas the Woman always had something in reserve. A matter of semantics perhaps, but not here.

I rose as she came to the table and took her hand.

'Hello, Michael', she said and effortlessly gripped my hand. It was strong sure and I think if she had been pressed, viselike. 'I'm Lucia di la Rosa d'il Cielo.'

Not surprised she knew my name, remembering where I was. 'Between the Worlds' the woman in black had said. Yet, all seem so real. At this point, in so deep, I had no choice but to play along.

'I'm glad to meet you. And may I say, you have a charming home.'

'One of many', she smiled. It serves the purpose. Please sit. I've taken the liberty to order something I thought you'd like.'

'I'd like some answers', I thought. I simply smiled and sat back down.

'An aperitif, perhaps?'

The 'butler' brought the drink tray.

Remembering the fate of Renfield in the old Dracula movie, I took the chance and asked for a bourbon on the rocks.

I had my Sword right with me. It never left my side nor my sight the whole time here.

As that thought passed through my mind, she was gazing curiously at it.

'I see you are a collector of blades.', nodding toward it.

'I have a modest collection at home. This was a gift.' I patted the hilt.

'How fortunate to have friends so thoughtful. I am an afficionado of sport involving the blade. Perhaps we might have a match later.'

She smiled and I noticed her teeth were like sparkling pearls. Wonder how long her canines are, I mused.

The whole time, I puzzled that this could well be a trap, rather like one of those confrontations between James Bond and an arch villian.

The test was to come.

Visiting Others 2

Twists and turns. False starts and endings. But a true path to the center. I tried to remember what I knew about mazes.

This was not quite like those charming country estate mazes. Then again, those green puzzles had more meaning than met the eye.

Some were fixed, while others could be changed, thus altering the course.

Being in this strange place, I figured 'anything goes'.

The area was dim, not dark. I held my Sword as much for illumination as for defense, for it had an elvish glow.

The path curved and became angular at times. I reached a couple of dead ends early on. I figured that would be the least obstacle.

A voice called out, 'Lost already?'

It was sweet, melodious, quite like the Woman who visited me in the beginning.

It was not.

This one appeared round the next bend, sweeping along like a moderate wind.

I stopped and so did she.

We regarded one another and I sized her up, to a degree.

She was close to being a mirror image of the Woman. Aside from her dress, which was above the knee and black, there was an air of immodesty about her. Mind you, I love bikinis on girls, for instance. But this was the 'vibe' I was getting. There seemed to be a lack of respect for humanity in her.

Though she spoke pleasantly and smiled, it was that feeling behind her that spoke the most to me. I am thankful for that gift.

The immodesty? It was more like pride. And way more pride than a Bertha Better Than You exhibits.

'I'm merely making my way on the Path', I said. 'What is this place called?'

Her chin lifted slightly and she declared, 'You are between the Worlds.' She leveled her gaze, with eyes like moonlit pools, inviting one to jump in.

I centered my gaze at just above her eyes in the middle of her forehead and commented, 'My own little Limbo huh?'

Those eyes flashed and she tilted her head down, so that she looked at me from the tops of her lids. The angle also altered my 'eyeing' her.

'Call it what you will.', There was now a cold pursing of her lips and she went on, 'It is the place where energy gathers, where all meet for weal or woe.'

She stepped toward me.

I immediately swept my Sword between us.

'Kindly keep your distance. Unless you have a message, you may either pass way around me or', My eyes bore into her, 'you may retreat.'

She stopped, unable to advance. Frustration bored into her features, making her look used, hard.

'I wouldn't dream of impeding you. Very well, know this, for the Sword you have compells Truth: There are some who seem to be your friends, but may be your enemies. There are some who seem to be your enemies, but may be your friends.'

I bade her pass me, keeping the Sword between us.

She drifted away, as though floating and disappeared in the dim.

I advanced, pondering her words.

Of course, there are always 'fair weather friends', those who are around for the good times, but run when anything negative comes. Any trial, backup, support wanes and disappears. And that is even after you may have offered them comfort and succor. They take but do not give.

I thought it was deeper yet. Sunshine patriots came to mind. They feign to take up the banner of Freedom, but only when it suits them. When the time comes to truly commit, they run. Or worse, they go to the enemy.

As for enemies, some people don't know which side they are on. THEY stand between and for no better reason lash out in frustration. They may be misguided and serve the darkness because they are beguiled and have bought the message. There are some who keep things at arms distance til something compels them to act. They may be in the underground, deep cover.

As these thoughts rolled round my mind, I noticed a sharp slope ahead. At the top, there appeared to be an opening at either side.

Being committed to the course, I made the steep climb and found two choices, right or left. I glanced behind. There was no path remaining. I could never go back. And, I figured, those twists and turns would have led me to at least a similar place.

To the left, there seemed to be a grey level path that went around a bend to the right. The right path had a curve to the left. Nothing straight ahead.

Wondering, Prospero's speech came to mind.

And now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's my own
Which is most faint, now t'is true
I must be here confined by you
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill or else my project fails,
Which was to please.
Which ws to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant
And my ending is despair
Unless I be relieved by prayer
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and trees all faults
As you from your crimes would pardoned be
Let your indulgence set me free

I took the righthand path.


A curious subspecies of human. Some even debate whether they ARE human.

They have been seen in both urban and countryside galumphing about in their odd clumsy style.

They are usually loners (thank the great Maker), but have been known to pair up and even collect in small groups.

If one is downwind, one can be warned they are coming by their typical unwashed sour odor. It resembles something between a privy in summer and an unclean stale locker room.

The effeminate cry, moan, whimpering of the humunculi is not fearful. It is dreaded because it foreshadows the bitching that characterizes their lot in life. Excuses are easier than facts.

They often steal the nests of humans and build a cluttered mess that seems to serve some kind of protective barrier. They have been known to sh*t where they eat.

They are remarkably single minded to the exclusion of other pursuits and latch on to a vague sense of security and false assumption they are somehow brighter than most other humans that they imitate.

There is a frightening lack of leadership skills, thus the usual loner lifestyle.

Notorious cowards, they often let others do their fighting for them and that frequently after they have baited someone.

When seeking companionship, they often step on their own d*cks and see what they want and not the reality of a situation. In other words, they live in phantasmigoria.

They amount to little and if they reproduce, thankfully rarely, their offspring resemble clones more than actual progeny.

There are exceptions to the rule both ways indicating there might be something to the 'born that way' theory. For humunculi have sired decent honest people just as good people have fathered humunculi.

In short, these curiosities often ascend to the least common denominator, but interestingly can achieve lasting mediocrity in liberal circles and of course thrive on the ignorance and indulgence of such.

They are NOT to be confused with humunculus frankus/dickus, a distinct subsubspecies that exhibits a modicum of success but at the price of decent humans everywhere.

If encountered, never EVER turn your back on one.

I believe they are mistaken for one another not by the whiny voice so much as the illusion of self importance they exhibit, due to coddling and no boundaries set.

Avoid them but watch them and warn them too, because they are a danger to all.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

No Hiding Place

I believe we are running out of time. There will be no hiding place for any of us let alone for these collectivist pigs who keep shoving crap down our throats.
We are fast coming to a time where we must face ourselves and one another and see just who we are and what we are doing.

The Senate just passed a cloture (open for discussion, debate) for the health care bill, which if passed and made law, will send us down an even fster spiral to a socialist state.

The whole mess is against the will of the people, at least those who realize the danger. The entitled and the collectivists will continue to rape the economy and all that is American.

The arrogance of these Mandarin misfits is beyond belief.

There arrogance is being called though. many are rising up, protesting. Many more are joining the ranks of the 3 percenters and vowing to take this Republic back.

Is it 'unintended consequences'?

I think the libs would rather avoid a revolution. They prefer the slow kill.

But there are others who hope we who love Freedom do a Fort Sumter, making a terruble blunder, a violent stab, giving them an out, an excuse to clamp down more and finally recognize their dream of one world socialism/communism (with the rich still getting rich of course).

Examine yourself and see if you are ready for whatever comes. Heed all that is happening and know what those traitors in DC and elsewhere are doing.

Or else.

When the fight is upon you, it may be too late for you as well as these hucksters.

There will indeed be no hiding place for anyone soon.

Pick your side.

There is a great scene from Babylon 5 where many on the station get together for a church service. Humans and aliens singing a Black spiritual called No Hiding Place.

As they sing, Lord Refa is being delivered to the Narn. He is an oppressor and has helped enslave the Narn.

With the caution of leaving his face intact for identification, he is beaten to death by a vengeful people who have been almost exterminated.

A cautionary tale indeed.

Here is a link to the song. It got me to thinking about what will come if it is not stopped:

Friday, November 20, 2009

Splitting The Sheets

If you are reading this, my wife and I have divorced.

You may wonder why I'm mentioning something so private. It's my choice.

It explains what I have been saying re postings being late. A minor thing, but kind of a surface action, while this family drama unfolded.

It was not arrived at easily. Twenty years, two kids and much drama/comedy/tears/laughter, done.

It is time for her to be on her own. I believe she needs to be as does she. She has several options, so what she does will be worth it.

As for me, there is much to do. I won't be busy for busy's sake.

The kids are ok. Will is 19 and still determined to be a Marine pilot and is interested in engineering on the side. He's pretty much on his own, ss it were. Erica is 14 and wants to follow her Dad into acting. Joint custody for her.

There is no animosity. Of course, nothing is perfect -s-.

We are in total agreement and I have given her what she wants and vice versa. What's ours is ours etc. and no fights over 'things'.

Please don't ask more.

I wanted to explain this in brief and leave it at that.

We all look forward to the future and Freedom in a Restored Republic.

There is a 'ps'.

It riles me how the court interferes with people's lives. Our divorce is 'granted' per the court's approval.

Begging permission from the state aka marriage license was bad enough. This gave the state permission to have a say in our union of 20 years, which had its ups and downs and our subsequent parting.

And yes, there are many contentious partings. My first marriage and divorce was not good.

I lost custody of my oldest daughter, 'in the best interests of the child', though I was the better parent. Her Mom was neglectful, including staying away a whole year while I raised our girl by myself.

Didn't matter. She needed her Mommy said the most high court. The fact that it harmed her didn't make 'no never mind' to the powers that be.

There was none of that here.

We ironed everything out before hand and my attorney handled the legal mumbo jumbo.

This time there was no whoring, stealing nor neglect.

It is just a mutual agreement to live apart. Period.

Mind you, it has not been without ups and downs. But those were dealt with.

I wish her well and as said before, we will work to bring back the Republic.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Visiting Others

My bedroom was dark and the only sound was jazz from the blue lit radio.

I closed my eyes in soft surrender.

I opened them suddenly, seemingly just a moment later.

Now the room was bathed in a warm golden glow. She was back, as promised.

'Michael. Come take my hand.'

I rose immediately.

'Close your eyes', she almost whispered.

I have never experienced such trust in my life. Not blind trust. The clearest vision I have ever had.

I cannot tell you what happened next, except that it was a rush of emotion, yet I KNEW and thought. A balance of heart and head.

Then we stood on a cliff. Overlooking a silver sea. I looked up. The sky was golden.

The more She talked, the more translucent She became. Oddly the more I became comfortable about the things She spoke of in Spirit.

She smiled again and we seemed to fly. Across the silver sea, through the golden sky.

We approached a rocky shore, bereft of greenery. There was a flat area behind the coastal crags, and there we landed. It was some kind of patio, with tables and chairs in the near distance.

'Go and sit. There is someone coming to meet you.' She walked away as I neared the table set with my clan crest. I sat and looked around.

There was a throng sitting and chatting. Many were dressed in chain mail and were armed with broadswords. There were others in different dress and farther away.

As I wondered, a hand clasped my shoulder. I looked up startled and realized I had been in 'condition white'.

A smile and laugh greeted me.

'You needn't worry here, now about that. Neither are you safe.' He laughed with hearty gusto.

Perplexed in this strange place, I simply asked why.

'Because,' he smiled with narrowed eyes, 'Life is a test.'

With that, he drew a two handed broadsword and swung it where my head should have been. It wasn't because I felt it coming. I rolled, swung up and blocked the blow. A blow that felt like a lightning strike.

'That sword you have, it doesn't like to be sheathed. Sit and have a drink with me.'

He placed his broadsword on the table and stretched, hands behind his head and feet spread.

Eyeing him, I sat opposite and wondered still what was coming.

As I sat, for the first time, I truly got a look at him.

He was large, well built, with a red/gold beard streaked with grey. He was clad in leather and metal from a time long ago.

In spite of the menace of a bit ago, I felt in my gut, that I was in good company, though I sensed I would hate and regret being this man's enemy.

'Son, you know who I am.'

I did. He was an ancestor who precursed my clan. Here was no pretext. It was a place of immediate light and truth.

'We have come together to show you great truth. It's simple', he said as he again swept the broadsword up.

I ducked and rolled and thrust up with my Sword. He laughed again. It was the good natured laugh of a father teaching a son. His expression was stern as he told me that I would be sifted as wheat.

It chilled me. I realized that The Woman's last visit was to remind me not to take the Sword nor any gift for granted. This was obviously to drive the point home.

'The pressures put upon those who take up the Sword are great and get greater. What do you do if attacked en masse?'

As he said this several more joined him and came at me at once. I started with the worst threat and worked my way down, always mindful and fully circular.

'Yes. Exactly. Let's take a walk.'

His sword was back behind him and mine was at my side.

Those who 'attacked me' melted back into that great throng that was now all around me. Many appeared to be American Indian and others Scottish Templars. There were many more off to the horizon.

'They are your clan from both sides of the Atlantic', my ancestor stated. 'Those who have fallen will help those who will fall.' He was resolute, matter of fact, yet cheerful.

'You risked much taking up that Sword. You would have risked more not doing so. You could lose your earthly life using it. It is not a talisman to ward off death. Just the opposite. It may attract death and destruction.'

I listened for there was nothing I could say nor add, but that I knew there was more.

'Yes, son, there is more', he responded.

We reached a large door. It was smooth til he knocked upon it.

Then, it seemed to shift. There weere carvings from many cultures that seemed to shape and reshape into others.

Runes, hieroglyphs, dead and obscure languages and newer more familiar signs.

It opened into seeming darkness.

He bade me enter after him.

I breathed deeply and stepped across the threshold.

There were many doors, many paths. He took me past countless ones and settled at a plain metallic looking portal.

'You must enter alone. Do not give into fear. Let the Light of the Sword guide you. Do not give up, lest you are lost. If you stumble and fall, get up and go on. Of you lie down, you will never get up.'

I looked at him, then gazed at the now open way ahead. I nodded and withdrew the Sword and stepped in.

'We will all meet again.'

It was a last bit of warmth before I was dropped into a cold place. I raised the Sword and Light indeed poured forth. Cold fear was replaced by warm assurance.

Then, I saw the maze.

Sunday, November 15, 2009


Long ago now.....

My son and I were returning from a visit with neighbors down the street.

The sun had long gone, but we had nothing to fear. We were not afraid of the dark.

We had several blocks to go. My son and I have always enjoyed long walks and runs.

The neighborhood had not gotten as deteriorated as it is now, though we were still in condition yellow.

As we marched up the street, two girls approached from the opposite direction.

They were striking to me for several reasons.

Besides the fact they were in a kind of lockstep, aka almost a slow dance step, they seemed to be in a slow motion compared to my son and me, until they got to us.

They were remarkably beautiful, though the first seemed a bit taller than me and the second just shorter.

Long, dark hair framed their faces in what could be called porcelain skin.

Their eyes were seeminly both soft and demanding.

I looked, regarding them and their questions . After all, I needed to engage them, but not at the expense of my nor my son's safety.

Now, the ladies in our neck of the woods were not so bad. But then, you had the crack whores, and other bottom rung people of the inner city nearby.

The girls were almost symmetrically perfect, flawless, and, um, proportionate.

They were dressed alike, or at least very similarly. Short, black dresses, with just a hint of cleavage. Sleeveless, but a bit of material over the shoulder.

I'm no fashion plate, but it was both tasteful AND hot. Just enough to attract, but not enough to say 'slut'. They would attract attention but not more than the street demanded.

They both had almost look alike hair. It was dark brown and, for the life of me, I can only say 'bouncy'.

High heels and dark hose offset the look.

They were severely out of place for the near eastside working class neighborhood they were in.

I was naturally cautious, as always no matter where nor when, no matter who, as we approached one another.

We stopped a few feet from one another, almost congruously.

The one girl said, 'Could you give us directions? My friend and I are lost.'

Obviously, I thought dressed like you are and looking like you do.

'Sure', I said, never taking my eyes off them (A pretty face could hide an evil mind!).

'We were looking for.....'

The direction and place are lost to me now. It didn't matter. What was happening did. Vivid details still remain, but only of what I thought was important.

As I listened to her, I watched the other girl. She looked briefly at me. Then she looked at my son.

She seemed to have a great interest as she observed him.

He stood there, resolute, I thought later, all 3 plus feet of him, for he was round about 3 years old.

The second girl regarded him, I noticed, strangely.

It was not just the 'Aw how cute' most folks would gave him. It was more of a predator stalking a prey. She moved in what seemed a semicircle, pacing, watching, seeing only him, as her 'sister' talked.

Strange, I noticed, that she only came so close and no further. She seemed more than intrigued by my fair haired boy.

I noted this as the other one asked 'directions'.

Maybe they were actually going where she was seeking. Maybe not.

My interest was what they were up to as we stood there.

The whole time this girl was talking, I saw she was 'reading' me. She was sizing me up.

My instinct spoke strongly. All was facade.

There was no doubt in my mind that they were examining us, that some kind of weird 'takedown' was in the offing.

As I watched, and as 'sister 1' talked, 'sister 2' continued to pace my son.

The odd thing flashed before me that '2' couldn't get past a certain point.

She paced and seemed to be restricted by some barrier. There was an invisible tension that she could not surmount. She simply could not get past that.

As '1' concluded her questions and I answered her, there was a quick shake of the head from her to her sister.

The dark, lonely street, was suddenly lighter, not in actual light, but in feeling.

We nodded and each went on our separate ways.

The reflection was that as beguiling as they were, they could not trap us.

Were they human? Were they something else?

Were their designs passing or were they after something we would not surrender?

PS: This is the first of a few stories I intended for October. Circumstances took me beyond that, but I am going to present them here and now.

Saturday, November 14, 2009


There is nothing simple about what I do. It's work, in its own way as hard as anything I've done, including raising kids. At least a close second -s-.

We've had some rough times financially. No woe is me here. It meant an opportunity to teach the kids to make do and strive for better. Strive, not be handed.
There has been a lot of sacrifice to establish my work and to keep raising the kids and give em a good start. There is more work ahead.

Nobody said turning words into money is a cinch. It's not.

It has to be decided, knowing all the ins and outs, whether to proceed, whether to take the risk.

Then it takes dogged determindness.

I will keep on keepin on.

Those years of struggle were worth it.

They taught us to get by as best we could and without cadging the state.

We relied on one another. We offered our talents and practical knowledge. We have taken out in trade.

If it comes down to it, and you are taken in, don't be a lump. Pay back in whatever way you can. One day, those do nothing lumps are going to be out.

If we each eke out a living, contribute, then what's coming will be easier. Not a breeze, but the more the better.

Whether it's merry or not may be a way of getting through with some humor when you think there is none. Believe me, we have laughed through the tears.

Things look to be getting worse for this tattered Republic.

What will people do if it gets so bad that the shelves may be empty? What can you do to stave off the beast?

Learn to rely on yourselves. Learn to 'make do' and more. Learn to be productive in ways you have never dreamt of.

Preparedness is one word for it.

Mindset and surveying your situation are essential.

So many cannot fathom a crisis that would leave them without. The cares of the day keep them enmeshed.

I've recommended planning ahead before.

It's never too late, I hope.

See what you can do and learn new things. Don't put yourself in a box. Be willing to help others as in getting together and pooling resources.

Check out James Wesley, Rawles and others. This includes looking at Mike Vanderboegh's Sipsey Street Irregulars and David Codrea's War On Guns as well as Pete's Western Rifle Shooter's Association. They have many useful refs for many useful endeavors.

Today, give thought to what you know you can do and think about adding to that. Trading will be more than just the tangibles. Develop skills. And maybe that hard time you have had can pay off.

You can eke out a living. You can do better than that even.

It's better than waiting and having to eek out a panic.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Dead Actors

I was watching Rio Bravo the other day. It occurred to me that all the principal actors except for Angie Dickinson and most of the cast and crew, at least to my knowledge, are dead.

Certainly John Wayne, Dean Martin, Rick Nelson, Walter Brennan, Ward Bond, Claude Akins (Hoosier!), etal have gone.

Time continues its march. All are gone from the silent/20's period. Most are gone from the 30's-40's era. Some are dwindling from the 50's-60's. And there are the occasional untimelys.

It also crossed my mind that I like to watch dead actors.

So many of my favorites are in the spirit world now.

Many inspiring stories were told. There was often a message outright or 'in the ravioli'.

I admired many for their acting abilities and for the message portrayed.

It's like getting free acting lessons lol. And all the while stories written and directed that make you think.

Thanks to the many who have come before who paved the way.

I'm inspired most to combine acting/writing etc and that message of Freedom, in the mix, so there is entertainment, inspiration and the chance to renew ourselves.

There are people in Hollywood, the 'biz', who share that view. It's just that the libs get the press.

There are live actors etal who carry on.

I am working to be in a position to make my own films and achieve that aforementioned goal.

When I am, you all will hear of it.

My hope is that when my name is bandied about, that it will be associated with Freedom, Justice and of course, Restoration of the Republic. Big risk? It depends on the crowd with whom I hang.

On the road to my goals, not every little thing will reflect this. It's called paying the bills.

That is NOT a sellout, but commercials, some parts etc will get me noticed and give me the wherewithal to independently pursue my dreams.

Thanks to a group of dead actors etal and live ones, the dreams are approaching reality.

I will continue here and in all my daily life to expose the evil destroying us and to counter it and join in defeating it. I will do.

Thanks to the Founders and many after them, and the strength coming from their efforts and those of so many more today, that dream of Restoration is becoming a reality.

We have a long way to go. Be inspired by singular determination to reestablish and maintain Freedom.

You don't have to be on tv to be an 'actor'!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

All Hallows Day

The candy is put away and the kids sleep. Another Halloween done. Those time flies keep buzzin lol.

As day surpasses night, here it is again. After the long dark night of fear comes the day of light.

We have faced what scares us and embraced it aka let it pass away. That embrace is misconstrued. It's NOT taking it up. It merely accepts the fact that fear exists, our dark side may try to keep us down etc. Once we know this, there is no stopping us from doing what we must.

We realize that tyranny has never slept. It has tried to take out the Republic by compromise aka bit by bit from the beginning.

As I suggest elswhere, we must sleep less than these enemies. Many are. Many more will.

They hate confrontation. Therefore, let's give it to them. Call them on the carpet for their crimes and let that light shine. The more it does, the more restricted the enemy becomes.

That may lead to them 'Ft. Sumtering' us. So be it.

How and what is that or will it be?

By not letting them go and making them accountable, they have already committed grievous harm to many.

When will it be enough?

It's darkest before the dawn and it's going to get worse, much worse before it gets better.

Too vague?

Would 'time will tell' be too cliche?

I will warn, I will expose, I will take back, and along with so many others, will be ready. Total commitment.

To those lol buddies who watch these blogs:



There are several seminaries on the south side of Chicago. It's kind of an ecclesiastical enclave which borders the drugs hookers etal.

The Lutheran seminary closely borders the Roman Catholic. Interesting configuration. So close, yet so far.

I was attending a function for potential students and young church leaders. As those things go, it was ok, but I needed fresh air.

Stepping out on the balcony, I looked across toward our Catholic brothers' place.

On the balcony of their residence was a tall, elderly man. He was gaunt, white haired and had a far away look in his eyes.

His whole appearance was striking, even at this distance and those eyes spoke without a word. He had seen life, death, good and the very essence of evil. Weariness tinged with resignation.

He had stood between dark and light. He had willingly taken on something perfidious, insidious. At the behest and service of God, he had battled demons, knowing that some of his body would be gone forever. His spirit was never diminished, because he was never alone. He suffered for the greater good. He defended the weak and oppressed, and the possessed. His sense of dedication, faith, resolve and humor (Without it, nothing survives.) were exceptional.

I have never met anyone like him before nor since.

For the sake of illustration, I ask you to think of the most profound evil that attempts to grip us.

For those who do not belive in a god, then there is the deepest of darkness of human nature.

The insidious rot that eats our substance is quite like demonic possession in my mind.

It is relentless, recalcitrant. It never stops, only delays.

Let us cast it out with fervor and faith that we can restore this tainted Republic.

Am I overly dramatic? If I am off the mark then I am not far off.

This evil has many names. Communism, fascism, liberality, communitarianism etc.

It seeks to destroy individuality and a true sense of brother/sisterhood and replace it with the matrix of some homogenized nightmare, though it uses 'diversity' to reach its goal. All this does is create factionalism, so that we fight among ourselves and become ripe for the plucking.

Individuals made this country and declared 'e pluribus unum', or from many, one.

We must go toe to toe with these real monsters and cast them out.

Though we may be hurt in body, as this priest, our spirits will shine on (Our humanuty for you nonbelievers.).

I don't apologize. This is spiritual at its core.

And I have faith we will prevail.