“This is not smart. You haven’t thought about this at all,” Kurt stated.
“Why do you ask these questions when you know the answers?” I replied.
“When you respond to my rhetorical statements with a question, you don’t expect to succeed.”
“When did you learn how to use rhetoric? Did that come in a firmware upgrade or something?”
Stillness was the closest Kurt got to looking frustrated.
“Hostility as well, without a human female in the area to warrant this show of threatening bravado. Interesting.”
“The tin-man learned sarcasm as well. I pine for the days when they just silently obeyed orders, I really do.”
“Finally, we are at the dejected but inevitable realization that what I said was true. This is not smart.”
Kurt had this bad habit, or coded routine, of pronouncing the punctuation that most people skipped over. When he uses a comma in speech, he actually pauses. Periods at the ends of sentences take a moment all their own in Kurt’s voice box.
“It’s this simple: we need credits and they have credits. They want certain outlaws brought back for justice; we have weapons just like everyone else.” I patted the revolver holstered on my thigh. “They don’t want to leave the security of their climate controlled settlements; our home is a space worthy hunk of junk and relocates easily. All these good reasons just stack up.”
Kurt continued to give me the unblinking gaze, possibly unconvinced.
“Let me put it this way. If we bring back the outlaw, we’ll receive enough credits to really stretch out the fuel, food, and juice so we won’t have to come across another settlement that is as,” I paused for emphasis that I hoped wasn’t lost, “disapproving, let’s say, of other Second Men like yourself.”
Sometimes, when I really give Kurt something to think about, the diodes in his eyes dim just the fraction of a lumen. I take it to mean he’s rerouting power from something unnecessary as appearance and switching it towards crunching numbers with his conscience.
“Ok. We’ll get the outlaw. This bounty hunter mission can not be a regular occurrence. Humans get nervous enough seeing me walking around free. I hypothesize their reactions to seeing me with a gun will also be less than pleasant.”
“If only they knew what a pleasure it was to live with you, Kurt, they wouldn’t worry about you with a gun.”
“Ah. Your Contented chortling because you successfully over ruled my initial objections.”
“No, Kurt, just confidence in knowing a person would be much more dangerous to their own self if given a loaded weapon after living with you for so long.”
I smiled as his eyes possibly flickered for the second time.

The observers are the whole key to the pattern, they’re everywhere in time

but last night’s episode  -..August – well …now we know there are many Observers – which is kinda neat.

But the whole think with the one observer watching the girl from when she was small and then being in ‘love’ with her? COME ON… at worst the dude is a stalker. At best, well he’s still a stalker.

But he did have a cool gun. And now the whole basis of who/what the Observers are is much more clear than it has ever been.

Nach dem Ende des dritten Weltkriegs wurden zur Erschaffung einer sicheren Zukunft sämtliche Gefühle der Menschen mittels Drogen abgetötet. So entstand ein totalitäres System ohne Kriege, aber auch ohne Emotionen. Zur Bekämpfung derer, die die Einnahme der Droge verweigern und weiter an ihren Gefühlen festhalten, wurde ein übermächtiger Kriegerorden gegründet, der in den Ruinen zerstörter Städte Rebellen aufspürt und zur Strecke bringt. Zu diesen “Grammaton-Kleriker” genannten Kriegern gehört auch John Preston (Christian Bale), dessen bedingungsloser Glaube an das System nicht einmal durch den Verrat seines Partners (Sean Bean) erschüttert wird – bis er eines Tages vergisst, die Droge zu nehmen …

Drei Jahre vor dem erfolgreichen Reboot des “Batman”-Franchise qualifizierte sich “American Psycho” Christian Bale hiermit als Actionheld der Zukunft. Dabei ist “Equilibrium” nicht einmal ein reiner Actioner; Schusswechsel und Martial Arts spielen tatsächlich eher eine untergeordnete Rolle, während die Handung deutlich mehr in den Vordergrund tritt als in dem Genrefilm, an dem sich “Equilibrium” Anfang der 2000er natürlich messen lassen musste, “Matrix” nämlich. Offensichtlich, dass “Equilibrim” es nicht leicht hatte, diesen Vergleich zu bestehen. Erstaunlich, dass der Film sich dabei so gut aus der Affäre zieht.

Die negative Utopie, auch Dystopie genannt, ist beinahe so alt wie die Science Fiction selbst – ein untrügliches Anzeichen für den angeborenen Pessimismus des Menschen. Gleichzeitig lassen sich vor diesem Hintergrund immer noch interessante Geschichten erzählen. “Equilibrium” lehnt sich dabei an Klassiker des Genres wie “Brave New World” oder “Fahrenheit 451″ an – letzterem kommt dabei besondere Bedeutung zu, denn in der über alle Maßen regulierten Zukunft ist jede Art von Kunst und Kultur verboten, weil sie bei Menschen eben Gefühle auslöst. So kommt den Klerikern nicht nur die Aufgabe zu, Rebellen auszulöschen, sondern auch deren Besitz zu vernichten, seien es Musik, Gemälde oder Literatur. Geschickt stellt “Equilibrium” dabei die Bedeutung dieser Dinge für uns heraus, was sich vor allem in der beeindruckendsten Szene des Filmes manifestiert, in der John Preston durch Zufall Beethovens Neunte zu hören bekommt – eine Referenz an Stanley Kubricks “A Clockwork Orange”, vor allem aber eine grandiose Liebeserklärung an die Musik. Die facto eine der berührendsten Filmszenen, die ich je gesehen habe.

Natürlich kann man in eine Handlung wie diese reichlich Gesellschaftskritik hineininterpretieren, gerade im heutigen Piratenzeitalter. Das halte ich aber nicht für die Hautintention des Regisseurs und Drehbuchautors Kurt Wimmer. “Equilibrium” ist vielmehr eine Warnung davor, was geschieht, wenn wir anderen Dingen Priorität über unsere Emotionen einräumen – vor sozialer Kälte also. Letztendlich stellt der Film die Frage, was vom Menschen noch übrig bleibt, wenn er die Fähigkeit zu fühlen verliert. “It’s circular – you exist to continue your existance. What’s the point?“, fragt eine der Rebellen John Preston und ergänzt: “Without love, breathe is just a clock ticking.” Nur zu wahr. Von der Handlung her kann es “Equilibrium” ohne Weiteres mit “Matrix” aufnehmen, selbst wenn das Ende den Bogen dann doch etwas überspannt.

Außerdem wäre da ja noch die Action, die – ich erwähnte es eingangs schon – den Film nicht alleine trägt, aber mehr als ansehnlich ist. Highlight: Nahkampf mit Pistolen; geiler geht’s einfach nicht mehr. Überhaupt ist “Equilibrium” optisch absolut gelungen, sieht deutlich teurer aus als die 20 Mio. $, die tatsächlich als Budget verbucht wurden, allerdings bei weitem nicht wieder eingespielt werden konnten: An den Kinokassen ist “Equilibrium” ebenso dramatisch wie unverdient gefloppt, was ohne Zweifel an der erwähnten Konkurrenz in Form der “Matrix”-Trilogie lag. Schade, denn “Equilibrium” ist ein überzeugender Film und kann es zumindest mit den “Matrix”-Fortsetzungen locker aufnehmen.

Wertung: 8 / 10

(Der Film ist übrigens besser als der Trailer. Wobei mir einfällt: Wenn irgend möglich, nicht synchronisiert anschauen …)

Holy hells, it’s freaking warm.

Which makes me think of the ice planet, Hoth. Mmmmmm… I’d sure like to be there with all that ice, tauntauns, tauntaun sleeping bags, rebel scum, and wampas.

For the life of me, I’ve never been able to work out Hoth. Sure, it’s science fiction and, sure, George Lucas was more interested in creepy, creepy incest and inter-generational sex, but at some point somebody must have looked at Hoth and thought: the ecology is all wonky.

Wampas eat tauntauns and Jedi. This is understandable and perfectly plausible.

But what the hell do the tauntauns eat? The planet is a giant snowball (mmmmm… giant snowball planet). Unless they’re eating ice and somehow converting that into energy (some of you French scientists might be thinking cold fusion, but then Luke would have got nasty radiation burn when he huddled in the guts of a tauntaun).

The Expanded Universe says that there’s lichen fields. Lichen fields on a snowball planet? You’re a crazy person.

It’s times like these that I think of the feral camels in the Australian outback. Camels were brought to Australia to help bored Englishmen adventurate across the desert. Some of them got loose and they started several colonies. The end result is a damaged ecosystem as the camels run wild.

If you were going to set up a base on an ice planet, it only makes sense that you’d bring along some tauntauns from another planet with a more diverse ecosystem. Tauntauns probably eat some plant which has grown fond of extremely cold weather. You never know. It’s space. Anything can happen (except planets which are completely iced over and which have tauntauns and wampas. That certainly can’t happen – hence the length of this post).

Concerned that some tauntauns might escape, they also brought along some wampas to keep the population in check.

‘But Mark!’ I hear you cry from the future, ‘If the planet is incapable of supporting tauntauns, why would you need a carnivore to keep the population in check?’

Foolishly, you’ve ignored the possibility of tauntauns cannibalising each other.

…

…

Okay, the heat’s finally got to me.

On October 6th 2009 the entire world blacked out for 2 minutes and
17 seconds.

During their blackout people were given a glimpse of their future. Of
April 29 2010.

For police officer James McLaren the glimpse of his future self
had rocked his world to its very core.

In his flashforward he was getting ready for a dinner date. He was
putting on the finishing touches of his makeup. He knew he was
hoping for a night of passion with the guy he was meeting.

As he woke from his vision James was shocked. Just what
was going to happen to him in the next 6 months that would
turn him into a girl? What on Earth was going on???

Inspired by the TV Show – Flashforward. You might also want to check out this promising story on Fictionmania by BobH which looks like taking this concept a whole lot further: http://www.fictionmania.tv/stories/readtextstory.html?storyID=125847146054420266

This is Marie Claude Bourbonnais

After the transporter malfunction, Captain Kirk had a terrible  time adjusting to his new body.

Just a quickie.

I’ve caught the last three episodes of V on ABC and I must say, it’s a really entertaining and enthralling show. For anyone who hasn’t seen it, it’s a remake from the 1980’s show of the same name in which an alien race suddenly arrives at Earth and introduces themselves simultaneously to all the nations of the world. Later we find out that they’re actually reptilians which have disguised themselves as humans and infiltrated our systems of government and centres of power. I won’t say much more than that though, have a look yourself over at Mininova for episodes 1, 2 and 3 of the first season. The pilot episode is a little slow, but the second and third are outstanding.

FlashForward really sucked tonight.

Mostly it sucked because it was just a character set-up episode.

Bryce chases his vision all the way to Tokyo and finds nothing while Keiko does the same but only in reverse. Sure that was interesting but it didn’t have to be the whole frakking episode.

Let’s hope the next episode (in two weeks) has a bit more action, otherwise this show won’t make it to 2010.

I had stayed too long out of body when trying to help Donnie, one of my charges, and had ended up feeling as awful as when I had had the flu last winter. And like the flu, it took several days before I felt normal again. Several days of moving slowly, getting plenty of rest, and absolutely no planing.

Now it was Thursday and I had to do my second appearance at the radio station. Although more aware of how things worked there, having already done one show, I was still dreading this appearance. My body felt normal, but my energies still seemed a bit off, so I really had no idea if I’d be able to do any readings or not.

As the train pulled into the Chicago station, Dave and I prepared to disembark. I gave him a smile feigning a joi de vivre I didn’t feel. Sensing my discomfort, Dave said, “Do you want me to come with you? I don’t have any meetings until the afternoon.”

I did; I really did, but I knew I was being selfish and childish. On top of that, once the show started, there wasn’t anything he could do. He wouldn’t be allowed in the studio with me and AJ, the disc jockey; he’d just have to sit around waiting in the break room or lobby, and that was just silly. So, I hugged him and shook my head against his shoulder.

We stood like that for some moments on the train platform, people struggling to get around us, and some being downright rude about it. Finally, I pushed back from Dave, but without completely breaking the embrace, and said, “You better get going, Sir, or my husband will begin to suspect that we’re up to something.”

I gave him my flirtiest smile, and with a rueful grin he gave me a quick kiss; then we went our separate ways.

I wasn’t quite as early this time when I arrived at the radio station. This time, the receptionist was already ensconced at her desk, her phone ringing, and several people vying for her attention when I stepped inside the lobby.

I was headed her way when the producer for AJ’s show intercepted me. I felt a brief tingling on my energies, as depleted as they were, and my arms were suddenly covered with goose pimples as we passed close by the receptionist’s desk, but before I could really register this phenomenon, we were strolling toward the coffee room and the producer was telling me the plans for the show.

Most of the producer’s chatter faded into the hubbub of the station’s general noise, and my mind wandered back to the strange tingling of my energies and what (or who) might have caused it. This was the second time that something like this had happened here, and I was beginning to suspect that perhaps someone at the radio station was the sender of the email that I had tried to locate, or the creator of the nightmares…or maybe even both? Hmmm, that was a possibility I hadn’t considered before, but now, it seemed more than just possible.

As that thought flitted through my head, the producer’s voice broke through to me, “So, are you okay with all of that?”

Having no idea what all I was supposed to be okay with, I simply nodded in his direction. My mind was still trying to chase down the idea that someone here at the radio station was the one who had been dragging me into their nightmares.

A moment later, the producer and I entered AJ’s studio, and soon afterward the show started. Just like last time, AJ fed me the question in a yes/no format, but unlike the last time, I managed to answer them without fumbling. I even managed to add some insights and advice to at least half the answers. So, all-in-all it was a much smoother and easier time than my last appearance on his show. The last call came and went, and the whole show completed without any surprises.

As AJ’s theme song played, the station manager appeared in the door and signalled that he wanted me to folllow him to his office. Reluctantly, I nodded and followed him through the maze of offices and studios. I really wanted to get out to the lobby and see if I could sense anything. I was really hoping that my guess was right, and that the nightmare creator or emailer (or both) was someone here at the radio station. If I could find them, then just maybe I could clear up some of these issues that were interferring with my own life.

However, I curbed my impatience and followed the station manager to his office. He offered coffee, which I declined, and then he got to the point of this meeting. Evidently, the listeners liked me, or so he said.

“They find you sympathetic; someone they can relate to,” he said.

I was floored. I had been sure I sounded more like a fool or an idiot with all of my erms and ums, but he said the numbers didn’t lie (although who had ever really talked with the numbers to be sure?).

“I’ve spoken with the owners and we agree; we’d like you to do the show with AJ at least once a month,” the station manager continued. “So, what do you think?”

His round, pink face was awash with smiles, as if he were offering me the most fabulous prize in the world—and, come to think of it, he sort of was. For several hours of work a month they were offering an obscene amount of money; money that Dave and I could really use.

I was too surprised to think straight, though. I really needed Dave’s calm reassurance and insights. (Don’t let anyone kid you, for all that I might be able to see the “future”, I have no idea what is going to happen in my own life, and I rarely have the type of knowledge or insights that can help me make decisions like the one I was being presented with.)

Flustered and thinking that the whole offer was some sort of cruel hoax, I finally managed to mutter something about needing to speak to Dave about it.

“Please let us know by tomorrow noon if you will be accepting our offer,” the station manager said as he handed me a copy of the contract.

I nodded dumbly, and in a haze of disbelief I left the radio station. My desire to stay and discover if someone there was responsible for the nightmares was completely forgotten in my rush to see Dave and share the news.

The first thing that the male Aurisen noticed was how the air touched against his body. It tickled the hairs on his arms and caused small bumps to appear on his skin’s surface. The second thing he noticed was his inability to see much of his new surroundings because his eyes did not function well in such low light. Although for him, the sensations were not wholly positive, they were memorable, therefore, he decided that his name would be DaeNoth of Darkwind. When he turned to see what Ionee was doing, he saw that her attention was on the sky. Tilting his head, he watched the bits of light streaking across the sky until his attention was drawn back to Ionee. She wrapped her arms around herself, then spun in a circle letting her arms swing outward. When she stopped spinning, she wobbled on her feet, and DaeNoth lunged forward to help her. However, she plopped onto the grass, a large smile on her face. DaeNoth reached out to help her up, but she ignored his hand. Instead, she rubbed her hands through the grass enjoying the feel of the vegetation. When she brushed against a pebble, she picked it up, looking at it curiously. She rubbed her fingers across it as if she were trying to memorize each crease and dimple of its surface. Dropping the pebble back into the grass, she finally clambered to her feet, admiring the way her body worked. She paused momentarily as the trilling of a night bird filled the air, and DaeNoth realized that there were a great many sounds filling the night, though he had no names or descriptions for the sounds or those making them. He peered around cautiously, wondering just how safe they were in this strange environment.

He felt overwhelmed. There were too many stimulations here; too many sensations that he just didn’t comprehend. DaeNoth wrapped his arms around himself protectively and watched in horrified fascination as Ionee gave out a loud and vigorous whoop, before bending her knees and jumping straight up. Then, as if startled by her own vocalizations, she touched her throat. Giving another, even louder whoop, her grin grew even larger. Laughter erupted from deep inside her and she raced across the lawn.

She wore an expression that DaeNoth didn’t quite understand. He swore it seemed as if she loved the way the grass cushioned her feet as she ran, the feel of the dew between her toes, and the way the cool breeze flowed against her naked skin. He watched as her hair flew back off her shoulders as she skidded and streaked across the grass, and he shivered—not with cold, but with fear. How could she possibly be enjoying herself, when any moment they might be attacked, or these fragile forms injured?

*This is wonderful!* she called to DaeNoth mentally as she raced across the grass again. *I do not understand why all Numinousens do not want to come and try this.* Her face was lit with an inner giddiness, and her laughter was almost manic as she skidded past DaeNoth.

DaeNoth, though, wasn’t so ecstatic with this new world, and Ionee’s exuberance frightened him. Watching her as she streaked back and forth across the grassy expanse, he decided that he would have to gain control of her and quickly. If he didn’t get control of her now, she would lead them in a direction that he had no desire to go in. He could already see that she was becoming too enamored of this world and of the physical sensations that came with it. As he watched her come racing back toward him, he realized that the more she seemed to enjoy herself and this new world, the more frightened he was becoming.

Grabbing her arm as she streaked past him again, he brought her up short. “That is enough,” he heard himself saying and realized that vocalizations were much different in this plane. The language was not as musical nor as full of visual color as on the ethereal plane, and he almost let Ionee go in his confusion.

“It is not nearly enough,” Ionee responded, then giggled. “Listen to that. Is not that the most wonderful sound you have ever heard?” She shouted out a note, then sang a scale. “I cannot get over how marvelous it all is,” she said breathlessly. “Come,” she turned away from DaeNoth of Darkwind, his hand still around her upper arm, “let us both run.”

“No,” fear tinged his new voice and his grip tightened on her arm.

“Why not?” Her eyes glowed in the moonlight.

“The guides said we should seek out the elder Aurisens when we got here, so I think that is what we need to do,” DaeNoth said decisively.

Ionee shrugged, then shrugged again, “See how the muscles work,” she shrugged a third time, “It is all so fascinating.”

DaeNoth took her hand and led her toward the area where they were told other Aurisens would help them. As they went, Ionee continued to touch, smell, and stare at everything she could. They would only take a few steps before Ionee would stop and have to investigate something—a flower, a rock, a night bird as it flew across the sky.

*****

As they passed by one of the many trees, Ionee saw some interesting looking objects dangling from the branches. Breaking free of DaeNoth, she plucked a couple of the objects from the branch. They were yellow and coral colored, with a slightly fuzzy skin. She rubbed one against her cheek, and thought how pleasant it felt. Sniffing it, she noticed an aroma that was both sweet and spicy. Taking a bite from the juicy yellow and coral colored fruit, she giggled. “DaeNoth, you must try this,” she held out the second piece of fruit toward him, “it has the most delicious flavors. It is tangy, yet sweet.”

DaeNoth looked at the proffered piece of fruit as if it might bite him. “Are you sure that you should be eating that? What if it makes the body sick?”

“Oh, DaeNoth, do not worry so!” She wiped at the dribble of juice on her chin.

“I am merely being cautious,” he responded pedantically. “After all, we have only been corporeal for a few hours, and we do not yet know much about the care and maintenance of these bodies. I would think it would be wiser to spend time with the elder Aurisens. Perhaps, by learning from them, we can spare ourselves major traumas.”

“The whole purpose of being here is to have fun,” Ionee chided, “to experience life as a corporeal being. I cannot do that if I am sitting confined somewhere listening to another’s memories of their experiences.”

“And I cannot enjoy my experiences of life if I must constantly worry about what you are doing,” DaeNoth growled.

“Then stop worrying, and join me,” she countered, discarding the core of the first piece of fruit and biting into the piece DaeNoth had rejected.

“It is not safe. What if you damage the body? Why can you not at least try to consider the consequences of your actions before you act?” DaeNoth lectured.

Ionee sighed. If I damage the body, I will simply heal it again. And if I damage it beyond healing I will just create another. I do not understand why he fusses so. “What if you go and listen to these elders, while I remain here in the gardens?”

“How do I know that you will not take off and do something foolish?” DaeNoth challenged.

Putting her left palm against her heart, she looked solemnly at DaeNoth, “I promise I will not be the cause of anymore worries for you.”

She watched DaeNoth study her eyes and face, looking for any signs that she wasn’t serious. Finally, he nodded and she put her hand back down. As he turned to continue on to the guidance center, she heard him sigh. He seemed so frightened by everything, and she shook her head as she wondered why since everything so much fun. When DaeNoth was finally gone, Ionee smiled. Now she would have some fun. She was sorry that he didn’t want to venture out and try new things, but why did he have to try to force his way on her? If he wanted to sit and listen to some silly lectures on what they should and shouldn’t do, that was his choice. As for her, she was going to try as many things as possible in this new environment.

Fantastic!

“Ruby Red Design’s “Who’s the Daddy?” Alien maternity t-shirt features a sonogram image of an embryonic H.R. Giger creature growing inside your body.”

An interpretation of “Inspirational Toothpaste” by Brendan Garbee.

"Keep on brushing!"

Check out more of Brendan’s art here: http://bgarbee.blogspot.com/

Are you an artist? Want to contribute? Okay.

Click here for more Broken Bulbs-inspired art.

Johann Johnson was a writer. He published his first book in 2112. It was about a guy, an olympic class runner. The character’s name was Tim Travis. In the book, he’s in this horrific accident…gets cut nearly in half and has to be put in a critical care pod. And I thought, jesus, that’s a pain that’d be hard to get over.

Not to get on a tangent, but sometimes I really wonder about who the asshole was that started putting the name “pod” in every goddamned phrase you can think of…critical care pod, ejection pod, etc. Seriously, in the world I was living in, I couldn’t get away from that damned word. When they took my brain out of my skull, it was put in a suspension pod. What’s wrong with the word “chamber”? Or “unit”? It’s like it was a federal law or something, everything having to do with containing a person had to have the word “pod” in it.

Anyway, they tried reattaching his lower body to this guy’s body, but they couldn’t do it. Too many mangled bits below the torso. So they give him a lower body transplant. The problem is, they can’t find a set of legs that match his old ones. They give him the parts of a guy that’s maybe 5 feet 6 inches, and it effectively ends Travis’ running career…though, honestly, getting cut in half had already effectively done that. But Travis freaks out. And, when he gets out of the hospital, the first thing he does is he goes and buys a gun, and walks into a random building and shoots everybody on the first floor. Then he walks into the building next door and does it again. And again, and again, working his way through five blocks of buildings before the police catch up to him. And he’s screaming at the police and he’s waving the gun around, and he shoots at the building across the street from where he’s standing. And that’s when the cops gun him down.

They rush up to him, and he’s bleeding to death, and he’s coughing and holding on to the gun, and he pulls the trigger but it’s empty. And his last words are “I’m done runnin’.”

Crazy shit.

I didn’t think Dr Stevens meant to give me an audio book to listen to that ended quite that way. Took her quite a bit of doing to get permission to let me listen to it in the first place. I dont know why that is. Strikes me as odd, though, that it would even be an issue. I couldn’t understand at the time why the hospital administrators even gave a shit about whether or not I got to listen to an audio book, but apparently to them it was a big deal. Honestly, when it comes down to it, I think Stevens sweet-talked the nurses into going along with it. Whatever. I’m just grateful that I finally got something that broke the monotony. The point is, I didn’t think she’d meant to give me a book to listen to that would give me the idea to go killing people, whenever I finally got a body transplant.

A few days after I finished listening it, Dr Stevens came in and had a sit down with me. She had her cup of coffee and her clipboard. “So, yeah. You’re probably wondering why I gave you a book about a guy in a similar position that ends in him committing mass murder.” she said. “Yeah,” I replied, “You might say that.” She just stretched her legs and kind of slumped down in her chair, took another sip of coffee and rubbed her eyes.

“You could take it in one of two ways. Escapist fantasy that you can use to precariously satisfy the daydreams youve been having, God, I’m not going to say this right. I’m alot better at getting in people’s heads, so to speak…sorry.”

“It’s okay”, I said, “Go on.” “You need to realize that you’re not crazy, first of all. Second, you need to be reminded that these fantasies you’re having….It’s a fine line between a fantasy and actually plotting to do something.” she finally said. Then she looked at me, right at me. She said “It’s fine to have a daydream about committing acts of violence. I think everybody does it. That doesn’t make it a good idea. I know you already understand that. I just want to make sure that you really get it.” That was the only lecture she ever gave me about my murder fantasies, and it was actually quite a bit longer and eloquent, but that’s what I remember, and even that isn’t word for word, but it catches the jist of it, at least…I think…I’m not sure. I’d like to tell you it word for word, but I’ve got a bad memory when it comes to remembering things people say. Be that as it may, certain things that happened are etched in my mind, obviously. It’s just important to me that I make it clear that I don’t remember word for word everything that happened. You’d think the exact opposite would true, what with me having to rely on my mind to get by. She did make a point of bringing up my fantasies, trying to find out if my attitude had become more nihlistic. After the 7th or 8th time going over them, I finally said, “Look, I’m rational enough that I know the difference between self-pity and plotting to kill people.” Because that’s what my fantasies were, really. They stemmed from me feeling sorry for myself. They came from resentment and irrational jealousy. I was smart enough to know that, which is why I always said they were fantasies.

She started bringing in audio books for me once a week. I’d never really been much for books. I never had the time when I was older, and I was never really into reading when I was younger. I was one of those kids that liked to go hiking, swimming…that’s the kind of kid I was. When she started bringing having me listen to stuff like Tom Sayer and Catch 22 it was weird at first. It was like I’d been living my life with a bunch of different worlds floating around me, and I never noticed them. And then when I did, I felt like an idiot, or felt like I’d been blind or something, and that I was just now noticing this stuff made me realize what I’d been missing. I know that the fact that the audio books broke the monotony of my life, and gave me something to focus on, that made me really become attached to them. At any rate, they grew on me very very quickly.

Listening to the audio books, ultimately, was a way of living precariously through them…Helped me picture a life beyond the walls I was forced to stare at. Some days, I’d be listening to them and could almost see what was happening in full detail, instead of my little room. In a weird way, fiction reminded me of what it meant to have a real life. There’s a nice bit of irony for you.

In Fall 2006, I took a course that was co-listed with Georgetown’s English department and the Georgetown Law School. I admit I can’t remember what the course was called, but it had to do with understanding the legal angles of the failure of U.S. primary and secondary schools. As part of the course, we volunteered with reading and homework help at a nearby community center, and as prep for considering the politics of reading, we read a lot of children’s books and wrote one ourselves.

Mine was a sci-fi story about a boy raised on the moon going to Hogwarts school on an elite space station. The story is called Delpit’s Question, and I figure this blog is as good a place as any to post it–partly because I’m excited to see the kinds of things Scribd can do in a blog setting. We also wrote an explanatory essay about what we were trying to do in the story; here’s a blurb:

The central question of the book, however, revolves around Delpit’s interactions with his teachers.  This conflict of understanding is designed specifically to demonstrate the structural, legal barriers to students trying to learn the curriculum and social codes of power in an unfamiliar setting.  Delpit’s question (“What do I know?”) is a tool for me to bring these underlying legal issues to the surface in his first two days at School in the Stars (SIS).  After all, I don’t want readers to walk away from this story only annoyed at the teachers’ close-minded attitudes; the corporate and government sponsors of SIS structured the school as elite setting designed to train elite children, and such goals (though unspoken) result in teachers being hired with certain blinders.  For a teacher to survive at SIS, he or she needs to be either White (American or European) or non-White but steeped so thoroughly in academic discourse that he retains no sense of identification with the discourse of his home culture (as with Mr. Amalendu).  It’s only natural that the things Delpit knows (the science of colors, music, predictive logic, ways of interacting) aren’t in line with the knowledge his teachers expect him to have.  In her article (pdf), Lisa Delpit quotes a Black principal taking doctoral classes who expresses her frustration with teachers who, when hearing her descriptions of racial and cultural bias, will only “look and nod.  The more I try to explain, they just look and nod, just keep looking and nodding.  They don’t really hear me” (124).  Ms. Merino is the prime example of this “silenced dialogue” in Delpit’s Question: when Delpit first approaches her she answers glibly and “smile[s] as if she had solved all of his problems” (26).  After Delpit goes beyond his comfort zone to push for a better answer, she still does nothing but dismiss his problems.  “That just can’t be helped,” she says towards the end of their exchange, exclaiming, “They all started talking just like the rest of us in no time!  I’m sure you’ll be no different!” (28)  Not only is Delpit’s knowledge not accepted as worthwhile at SIS, his ability to question that fact is squelched by a discourse that doesn’t allow room for his participation.

Enjoy! (Maybe. I wrote this a while ago, so I’m not completely positive of its quality. But it’s worth sharing.)

Yeaah we were waiting for Battlestar Galactica The Plan for months. And yeaah we watched within a few days of its release.

It is so shockingly BAD that it has taken this long for us to have the stomach to write a review.

Battlestar Galactica deserves better than this kind of treatment. I don’t know if Ron Moore was smoking crack when he put this together or what was going on, but it’s totally wrong.

This isn’t a movie – it’s more like a disconnected collection of snippets that make little sense. Sure if watch the movie a few times and try and place each section in the Battlestar Galactica timeline it might start to make sense…eventually.

As a standalone movie this move does not stand at all and is not watchable. It’s that bad.

It could have been called “The Confession of the Ones” but overall it adds nothing to the BSG canon. I think this movie should be labeled by fandom as “The Mistake” and just forget about this frakking pile of bantha fodder.

BSG can do better. Razor was a decent standalone movie that added to the BSG universe in a really cool way. Perhaps after Ron Moore went nuts declaring Kara Thrace and Angel (wtf??!!) he’s no longer sane and isn’t capable of producing decent BSG stuff anymore.

Who is John May? ABC’s V is really picking up steam now with the emergence of the V Fifth Column. We have no idea who John May is, but no doubt he’s well hidden.

The whole Fifth Column thing was the biggest revelation in this third episode of the new V (official episode title is:A Bright New Day

It’s neat that the Fifth Column have member on board the NYC mothership – that was cool and unexpected.

But how did they convince Mary Faulkner to like the V’s? They connected here to their matrix/hub didn’t they? It’s some kind of drug that makes everyone happy.

Last but not least – how about Lisa (played by Toronto actress Laura Vandervoort??

No not a naked scene (this is ABC after all), but still that was …’interesting’.. especially since we now know hooking up with Tyler is all about pleasing her own mom – the leader of the ‘V’ s herself Anna!

Neerah, as Ionee, glided through the music and watched as the colors shifted from the pleasant rainbow of blues, greens and yellows, to the more strident reds and oranges causing the chords to become inharmonic.

“Oh, I do apologize, Ohna,” she offered the other Numinousen her regrets at ruining the composition.

“What is it that troubles you so?” Ohna sang as she allowed the other colors she had been holding to dissolve, fading back into the ether where she had gotten them from.

Ionee sighed, then plucked one of the crystal notes from its place and tried to shape it into a more pleasing sound and color. “I cannot decide whether to try being an Aurisen or not,” she put the note, which was now more golden, back with the others. “I have become of two minds. There is a part of me that longs to experience all things physical, yet there is another part of me that seeks not to experience these things.” She took several other notes out of the discordancy that displayed around them and turned them into starbursts.

“Why do you not simply become two Aurisens, then, if that is the way you feel?” Ohna scattered more blues and yellows into the composition. “For then you can experience both the world of the physical, but also remain apart from the physical, if you wish.”

Ionee flared blue, then white, then back to gold. “You are so wise, Ohna.”

Ohna shifted the composition from blues to greens and added several notes of purple. “I only propose what you already said,” Ohna trilled, pausing in her composing long enough to note Ionee’s improved mood.

“I must speak with Ryal, then, immediately, for I would participate in the upcoming ceremony,” Ionee tossed several emerald sparks into Ohna’s composition, before hurrying away.

* * *

It was the ceremony of Becoming. Those Numinousens who wished to experience physical life would gather together, and form themselves in a circle. The Numinousens who monitored and guided the newly physical beings would form a large circle around them. Then, at the appropriate moment, each of those wishing to try life as a corporeal being, would create a physical body. That body would then enter the Forest of Reflections on the planet of Danaria. In this form, they were referred to as Aurisens—a blending of Numinousen and physicality. Although, they wore a physical form, part of their essence would still show through, creating an all over golden aura. As Aurisens, they also retained all the knowledge gained as a Numinousen, which included their abilities to manipulate all energies existing within and between the physical plane and the ethereal plane.

While an Aurisen, they could dwell within the Forest of Reflections for as long as they wished, then when they wanted to return to the ethereal plane, they would simply deconstruct the physical shell they had created, and return to being a full Numinousen. The physical body was just another way in which they manipulated resonance. The body, a physical shell that could exist within the vibrational frequency of the physical plane, is what gave them the means by which they could then function and exist within the physical plane as a corporeal being. With the body they would have the ability to taste, touch, smell, and experience all the things within the physical plane. Without the body, their experience of the physical realm was limited, because Numinousens couldn’t experience physical reality. They could travel to and within the physical plane, but as a Numinousen, they didn’t have the ability to touch, taste, smell, or fully explore and take part in a physical life.

Becoming corporeal was not an easy decision for most Numinousens, so the majority of those that became Aurisens remained within the Forest of Reflections until they returned home to the ethereal plane. Occasionally, a Numinousen would become corporeal so that they could follow the Circle-of-Life path. Following the circle-of-life path was not something that most Numinousens or Aurisens took lightly, though. It normally required many choices and much planning before committing themselves to such a venture. There were a few Aurisens, though, that made no plans or gave it no thought, but simply involved themselves with man and his dramas. By doing so, they ended up committing themselves to the Circle-of-Life path whether they wanted to or not. Sometimes those along this type of path did fine, more often than not, though, the first few lives were very difficult, and the lessons exceedingly painful.

Ionee wasn’t thinking about any of this, though, as she floated into the inner circle being formed. Her mind was filled with joyous expectations. She had observed the physical world several times, and she had even visited there once—though without permission—when she was still a very young Numinousen. So, she was filled with unbridled anticipation, and laden with many second thoughts. It was the part of herself that had all the misgivings that she planned to separate from. As she tried to calm herself, she concentrated on grouping all those shades of trepidations and hesitations together, while holding onto her enthusiasms and joys. As her being alternated between these two vibrational frequencies, her golden essence began to flicker. Slowly at first, then faster until it appeared as if two Ionees were hovering there. When both beings were complete and distinct, the flickering stopped. Now there truly were two Ionees—one who couldn’t wait to go into the physical plane and try being a corporeal being, and one who wasn’t at all sure that becoming corporeal was a wise thing to do.

Looking around, the happy Ionee noted that several other Numinousens had also created a twin, so she knew that at least she wasn’t alone in her duality. Now, those going to the physical plane needed to create a body, so both Ionees began to do so. Soon, where two Numinousens had been, there were now two Aurisens. While most of those who had created twins had created bodies of the same gender, several had not, including Ionee. The happy Ionee had created a tall, lithe, blonde female form, while the hesitant Ionee had created an even taller, dark-haired, rather rugged male body.

The newly corporeal beings were guided to the Forest of Reflections where they were directed to meet with the other Aurisens who lived there so that they might gain some insights. However, once in the world, the blonde Ionee Aurisen was so fascinated by everything, that she merely stood and stared around her. The first thing that really caught her attention was a star streaking through the sky above. This was quickly followed by another, then two in rapid succession, then one more. Deciding that she would like to be named for this event she had just witnessed, she named herself Ionee of Starfall.

I was in an out of body state and hanging around Donnie’s apartment (Donnie is one of my charges). I had to make sure that he was safe. You see I wasn’t the only one hanging around. Death was also here, and that was the issue.

Before Lawrence, Donnie’s companion, had gotten home and called an ambulance, Donnie had tried to commit suicide. That had triggered our mutual connection, mine and Donnie’s, which was why I was there. But that didn’t explain how Death had known about Donnie; and it especially didn’t explain how he had known before I had.

Death’s usual notification process was usually a little more direct. Most times someone either jumped from their physical body to avoid the pain and while wandering the transitional plane would run into Death; or they would remain in their body but call for Death to take them so they could avoid any more pain. But this was different—strange different—and different with Death made me very nervous.

After all, Donnie had been unconscious, he hadn’t called out to anyone, and he wasn’t out of body (I checked first thing, because the last thing I wanted was one of my charges wandering around lost). Therefore, there was no way that Donnie contacted Death; so how did Death know to be here?

I was exhausted—physically and spiritually—and I just couldn’t wrap my mind around this puzzle. I really wanted to go home and let my body get some real sleep, something I hadn’t been able to do for several nights now.

I could feel the remains of my energy flagging, and I forced myself to remain where I was. The pull from my physical body was getting stronger, indicating that I really need to plane back; however, I couldn’t do that; at least not until Death left and I was sure Donnie was safe.

The EMTs wheeled Donnie, who seemed to be breathing without assistance now, to the ambulance. I hung back as Lawrence followed. I was waiting to see what Death was going to do.

At the sound of the front door closing, Death turned to me, his smile still just as smug as before, and he touched two fingers to his forehead and disappeared.

Not knowing whether he was giving up or tagging along hoping to grab Donnie either on the way to the hospital or once at the hospital, I had no choice but to follow Donnie. So, using the last bit of energy I had, I forced myself to follow the link I shared with Donnie.

I ended up in the back of the ambulance, and it was everything I could do to keep a presence there. Although, I didn’t see Death, I still wasn’t completely reassured that he wasn’t at the hospital waiting, so I clung to the link between myself and Donnie using that to keep me anchored with him.

The EMTs rushed Donnie into the emergency room, and I hovered in the background as they got him stabilized. The first hints of daylight were creeping over the horizon outside as the hospital staff moved Donnie to a room.

I was becoming a shadow of myself, literally. I was barely able to continue my hold on this out of body existence. My body needed me and the pull to return was tearing at me. I had to leave. I hadn’t seen Death since leaving Donnie’s apartment, so I was hoping he was back on the transitional plane where he belonged.

Lawrence was sitting next to Donnie’s bed, stroking Donnie’s hand, when I finally let go of the link between us. I let the connection to my own body pull me down and I fell into myself with a horrible, gut-clenching feeling. I sat up with a start, completely disoriented. I had expected to be in my bed, in my bedroom, with Dave by my side. Instead, I was in the den on the couch, and it took me several moments to remember why.

I swung my legs over the side of the couch, and bit back a cry of pain. I felt as if I had run a marathon, and my head was pounding—I think it was beating in time to one of Gloria Estafan’s songs. I really wanted to just go back to bed and curl up under the covers for a month. I pushed myself to my feet, and wished I hadn’t.

The room whirled around me and I thought I was going to topple over. I dropped back onto the couch and put my head between my knees. When the world steadied, I stood up again, but this time much more slowly.

I toddled to the kitchen in an old lady style shuffle, and sort of clung to the door jamb while I looked around. The coffee had been brewed and a half a pot still sat on the warmer. There was also a note next to the coffee machine, so I continued into the room and picked it up. It was from Dave, and it just said that he hadn’t wanted to wake me, and he’d see me tonight.

I looked at the coffee, but opted for a large glass of water and several ibuprofen instead. Then I climbed the stairs (trying not to moan with each step), and went to our bedroom. There, I crawled between the covers and was instantly asleep.

I woke to the jangling of the phone, but by the time I realized what the noise was, it had (thankfully) stopped. I glanced at the clock on the bureau and saw that I hadn’t slept all that long. Although my body felt like it needed about 10 more hours of sleep, my mind was already chasing itself. Knowing that I wouldn’t get back to sleep again, I disentangled myself from the bed covers and stumbled into the bathroom.

I wanted to soak under a super hot shower for as long as I could stand it. Maybe that would help me overcome the groggy, muscle-cramped feeling that I currently had. As I started the shower up, I realized that I hadn’t felt this awful since I’d had the flu last winter.

Moxie’s brother… a free-diving spear fisherman.

Laine