Thursday, December 22, 2011

Christmas Break

Yesterday, I finally solved the mystery of my broken computer. After replacing the mobo, the psu, the video card, and the ram twice, I finally discovered that I had a bad cpu.

On another note, I've noticed a bit of paranoia setting in during the night times. Creepy stuff.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Useless Talents

Can you name all 196 sovereign nations?

I've recently taken it upon myself to remember the names and locations of every country on this tiny blue planet of ours. As of today, I have finally remembered them all. Africa seems like it would be the hardest, but I found Oceania to be the most difficult because the names of the countries sound awkward in my head. I know you're saying to yourself "that man is so interesting and talented! I wonder what he'll come up with next!"

I'll just chalk this one up there with pen-spinning, Rubik's cubes, and sleight of hand tricks.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

You Are The Hunted King Uncrowned

Benjamin Button Plot Holes SPOILERS

As a quick note before I begin, last Thursday (Sep. 22) was the anniversary of my blog. I briefly considered making a celebratory post, but quickly realized that I was lazy and would not write a celebratory post.

I saw Benjamin Button for the first time with my girlfriend while it was on tv. For those of you that don't know, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a film starring Brad Pitt based on a short story of the same name. It's a story about a man (Benjamin) who is born as a wrinkly old-man baby and ages backwards. The entire premise of the film is that an old woman named Daisy, who was Benjamin's love interest, is in the hospital and is near death. She has her daughter, who is a grown woman at this point, read her Benjamin's diary. The film presents the diary entries as flashback scenes, similar to Forrest Gump, which are sometimes narrated over by Daisy's daughter, though in Benjamin's voice.

The plot hole comes during the flashback that tells the story of how Daisy, who was a famous ballerina, was hit by a car and lost the ability to dance. The film approaches it in an interesting way: it shows numerous interconnected, small, and devastatingly-unfortunate events which all coincide to make a taxi-cab drive down a road just as Daisy steps out in front of a car. It tells how a man's alarm clock didn't work, which starts a chain of events including a woman forgetting something and returning into her house, answering a phone call, and a woman who forgot to wrap an order at her job because she was upset about her boyfriend, among other things, which lead to the taxi-cab moving down Daisy's road at the exact time it did, and are all indirectly caused by the man's alarm clock. It's certainly a well-done scene and an excellent example of story telling, except for one thing: the flashback is from Benjamin's dairy. There is no way that Benjamin could have known about all of these random events in people's lives that caused the accident. Especially considering that the film shows shortly after that Benjamin wasn't even in the same country at the time.

Of course, it's still a good film with mostly positive reviews. It seems the writers for the film were so caught up in presenting Daisy's accident in an interesting way, that they forgot that the film is supposed to be told from Benjamin's dairy, or perhaps they did know, but figured the audience would overlook it.

Not me though.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Great Scott

Oh! what a tangled web we weave

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Exquisite Art


Carved out of stone, earth, blood and bone
knock the mountains down
the earth's grating sounds
they soothe the great machines
that yearn desperately
just to lay them down within her gaping mouth
more than a symbol
more than I bargained for
they wander ridges high
between the earth and sky
like spikes upon a crown we wear upon our brow
and want is not a need reserved for human beings
it's fingers on your throat
is pain that all things know
An army of the golems is stalking, now, the heart's lands
eating all reality
producing only dust and sand
nothing hurts them
nothing gets under their stone skin
and when their earthern mouths will open up
just what words should come out? but
"we wish we were dead"

- Earthmover on Deathconciousness by Have A Nice Life

Friday, August 5, 2011

Friday, July 29, 2011

We're Living On Borrowed Time

You're a three-dimensional being in a two-dimensional world.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Bohemian Street Art

 I'm finally getting around to posting the street art I saw in Nassau, Bahamas. There wasn't too much, but what I did see was pretty stunning. Unfortunately, one of my favorite pictures is ruined because I was in a moving bus when I tried to take the photo, and a light post was blocking a really well-done fly on a small shack.

Regardless, enjoy:


Monday, June 27, 2011

Hilarious Bible Excerpts

I've been out of the States recently on vacation (I'll post pictures of some cool street art I found on my adventures eventually) and ended up spending a lot of time in hotels. As you may have noticed, there is almost always a bible in the drawer next to the bed in a hotel room, which I decided to read in my down time. Some of the things I read were hilariously ridiculous, but at the same time, it's horrifying that some people legitimately believe these things. I don't mean to single out Christianity, but I didn't have access to a Quran or any other religious text (though I'm sure they are all filled with their own hilarious absurdities.)

Here are a collection of some of the most ridiculous excerpts I've selected from the Bible:

Any person who curseth his father or mother must be killed
-Leviticus 20:9

There are some pretty glaring contradictions in the Bible--this being one of them. What about "Thou shalt not kill"?

If a man has sex with a woman on her period, they are both to be cut off from their people
-Leviticus 20:18

People who have flat noses, or are blind or lame, cannot go to an altar of God
-Leviticus 21:17-18

Doesn't God create all people? Way to set them up for failure, God.

Anyone who dreams or prophesizes anything that is against God, or anyone who tries to turn you from God, is to be put to death
-Deuteronomy 13:5

Not only does the Bible tell you to kill here, but it tells you to kill someone for something they can't control, i.e. dreaming.

The eating of fat is prohibited forever
-Leviticus 3:17

Entrance into the assembly of the Lord was granted only to those with complete testicles
-Deuteronomy 23:1

Stubborn children were to be stoned, and the stoning was to be instigated by their parents
-Deuteronomy 21:18-21

False prophets are to be killed by their own parents
-Zechariah 13:3

To kill or not to kill, that is the question.

If a man beats his male or female slave with a rod and the slave dies as a direct result, he must be punished, but he is not to be punished if the slave gets up after a day or two, since the slave is his property
-Exodus 21:20-21

If a man happens to meet a virgin who is not pledged to be married and rapes her and they are discovered, he shall pay the girl's father fifty shekels of silver. He must marry the girl, for he has violated her. He can never divorce her as long as he lives
-Deuteronomy 22:28-29

Yes, the Bible requires rape victims to marry the rapist.

If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters - yes, even his own life - he cannot be my disciple
-Luke 14:26

Luke may have had some psychological issues.

Don't let cattle graze with other kinds of Cattle
-Leviticus 19:19

Don't have a variety of crops on the same field.
-Leviticus 19:19

Don't wear clothes made of more than one fabric
-Leviticus 19:19

Don't cut your hair nor shave.
-Leviticus 19:27 

 For six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a holy day, a sabbath of complete rest to the LORD; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death.
-Exodus 35:5 

You will eat the fruit of the womb, the flesh of the sons and daughters the Lord your God has given you.
-Deuteronomy 28:53

How come you never see any of these quotes on t-shirts or bumper stickers?

Behold, I will corrupt your seed and spread dung among your faces.
-Malachi 2:3

Here are some of the contradictions I mentioned earlier:

 For I am merciful, saith the Lord, and I will not keep anger forever.
-Jeremiah 3:12
Ye have kindled a fire in mine anger, which shall burn forever.
-Jeremiah 17:4

These are both from the same book in the Bible.

If I testify about myself, my testimony is not valid.
-John 5:31
Jesus answered: "Even if I testify on my own behalf, my testimony is valid."
-John 8:14

These too.

And Jesus said, "For judgement I am come into this world."
-John 9:39
I came not to judge the world
-John 12:47

Think about how much people invest themselves in this book.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
-Matthew 5:16
Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.
-Matthew 6:1

Jacob said, "I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved."
-Genesis 32:30
No man hath seen God at any time.
-John 1:18

We should fear God
-Matthew 10:28
We should love God
-Matthew 22:37
There is no fear in love
-John 4:18

It's good to question beliefs. Especially your own.

Thursday, June 2, 2011


by Quinton Powers

Grey -
“Imagine if you please, a wire, and on this wire, standing in perfect conformity and precise uniformity, birds. Birds of all shades of black and grey: grey, gray, grae, black—every shade imaginable. Feel the mono-chromacity of the situation, the hopelessness in the tyrant of condensated beasts looming miles above the feathered subjects of the scene. See the breezes blowing around you, picking up the loose drapes of the clothes thrown about your just recently entered body. “Just recently entered?” you ask. Yes, you are also part of this scene, standing, watching, trying to understand the beings lined in front of you. You stand upon a great expanse of pavement, grey, cracked, about as colorful as the sky around you; you stand alone, ready, with head cocked at thirty-five degrees, waiting. Wait. Waiting? Waiting for what? Don’t ponder this too much, we’ll answer it later. Anyway, return to the aforementioned scene: birds, wire, cold, dreary, you standing. As the clouds roll ever so closer, something new catches your eye, what is it? Why, it is just one extra (and equally depressing) detail. One leg. The grey bird, fourth from the left, has only a single leg, yet there it stands, in your vision, as perfectly positioned as the rest. Astonished, gaze fixed on this anomaly, you fail to see a man approach from behind. He passes on your right, lifts his formerly akimbo arms into the sky, sprints toward the wire, opens his mouth, and emits a wondrous sound, a mature and hearty:
reply the birds. A new cloud appears. Of what? Feathers. Grey. A battle for the open sky begins after the sudden entrance of the scraggly man and his now famous and duly-remembered interjection. Wing-ed creatures burst away from order, cawing with utter surprise and contempt. The birds that once sat side-by-side, one-by-one, steady, uninterrupted, now filled the area above the two interlopers, breaking away from their former structures and facing the world ahead of them, ready for the subsequent wire, the next stage of life.

Gray -
“Exit all. All except for two. Still watching the last remnants of the feathered majesties depart, you turn and gaze upon a familiar sight. The bird, still perched on a single leg, lay in the exact position as before. A mirror of yourself, the bird returns your gaze with the power of a Nietzsche-ian abyss, piercing and averting your fragile eyes and mind. The tension of the situation builds as neither party moves, until, with almost utter surprise and complete apprehension, you take a step forward and spake upon the bird: ‘What are you waiting for? The whole world is open to you, my feathered companion. If you have the ability to travel anywhere you want, why are you here? You, bird, are the model of four million years of evolution, now act like it, get out of here and become something.’ You are greeted with a silence, what did you expect? You are yelling at a bird. As you depart, the one-legged creature offers up the last word as a reply: ‘caw,’ it says with complacent ignorance and a seemingly intelligent tone. If one were to infer the meaning of this seemingly inane sound, as you didn’t, it might have said, ‘Ask yourself the same question, human.’

Grae -
“Forty years. That’s how long it has been. Four, zero. Walking, with briefcase in hand and a familiar breeze chaffing your uncovered face, you turn and cautiously walk along the pavement, the same lifeless pavement. On your right lies an image of the past, a wire—correction: the wire—still hanging between the newly-bankrupt bakery and the unknown building on the left. Memories of the thoughtful and spontaneous events of your past return in waves; guffaw, caw, “leave”, free. Every day you walk by this monument, and every day you see the depressing image: five birds, nine legs; seven birds, thirteen legs; one lonely grae bird, one lonely graeing leg. Every day…except today. Today you are greeted with a soft thump—an apple landing in the fertile soil below. Only replace the soil with hard cement, and the apple with a creature of now-broken bones and feathers. The clouds above, huge cumulus giants, grant no light on this spectacle as you approach the fluttering mess laying before you, limbs splayed. All three. You count with utter disbelief: two wings, one leg. Yes, before you stands, err, lies the un-leaving bird of ye olden days; no longer with contempt does it caw. After years of decaying, the deceased creature fell from its wire; no longer does it stand as one among its peers. Looking upon its solitary leg, you realize, the bird never left. The wing-ed love of yours had the ability to leave at any moment, yet due to a language barrier of great magnitude, it never knew. As you reach down to grab your briefcase, your eyes once again return to the leg of the bird; then you look down at your own two and remember the speech you gave this same bird forty years prior. Back and forth, you look, and with a sudden gasp, you fall upon your knees in despairing realization: the speech applied to you as well.

Black: A Conclusion -
“Yes, just what are we, humans, but wing-less birds, with the shared and unacknowledged ability to go anywhere with our lives. With this in mind, return to the question you posed in Grey. And instead of having someone like me, your lowly guide, solve it, return to the scene of the wire and once again re-ask yourself that one simple question: just what am I waiting for?”

An excellent essay by a good friend of mine. Enjoy.


Sunday, May 29, 2011

The Mountain

by TSO Photography

This was filmed between 4th and 11th April 2011. I had the pleasure of visiting El Teide.
Spain´s highest mountain @(3718m) is one of the best places in the world to photograph the stars and is also the location of Teide Observatories, considered to be one of the world´s best observatories.

The goal was to capture the beautiful Milky Way galaxy along with one of the most amazing mountains I know El Teide. I have to say this was one of the most exhausting trips I have done. There was a lot of hiking at high altitudes and probably less than 10 hours of sleep in total for the whole week. Having been here 10-11 times before I had a long list of must-see locations I wanted to capture for this movie, but I am still not 100% used to carrying around so much gear required for time-lapse movies.

A large sandstorm hit the Sahara Desert on the 9th April and at approx 3am in the night the sandstorm hit me, making it nearly impossible to see the sky with my own eyes.

Interestingly enough my camera was set for a 5 hour sequence of the milky way during this time and I was sure my whole scene was ruined. To my surprise, my camera had managed to capture the sandstorm which was backlit by Grand Canary Island making it look like golden clouds. The Milky Way was shining through the clouds, making the stars sparkle in an interesting way. So if you ever wondered how the Milky Way would look through a Sahara sandstorm, look at 00:32.


Friday, May 13, 2011


Today is my 18th birthday, and since this is the age of "adulthood" in our culture, it means a lot of new things in a person's life, and as such, it has brought up quite a few thoughts as well.

Firstly, I don't feel like an adult. I don't feel any different from the 17-year-old person I was yesterday. When I was younger, I would look at adults and think "That person knows how the world works. That is a person who has obtained adult-knowledge, and is certified to do adult things." I honestly believed that, somehow, people knew all of the things that they needed to know to function in society at this point in their lives, but in all honesty, my dad still helps me do my taxes, and I can't even tell you what the word "mortgage" means. Suddenly, I'm an adult. It didn't come with an epiphany, it didn't come after I passed a test, it didn't seem special at all. I simply woke up this morning and thought "Oh, it's my birthday. I guess it's legal to smoke and watch porn now."

Secondly, I'm scared as hell of growing up. My greatest passion in life is adventure, and in a small town like the one I live in, that means trespassing into places you aren't allowed with a group of friends and having fun. If the police were to catch me doing that yesterday, it would have been "just a bunch of damn kids messing around," but today, it's "catching a man trespassing on private property." I'm losing all of the innocence I've taken for granted my entire life, and it's impossible to ever get it back. Everyone that I've grown up with and gone to school with are going to separate universities and moving away--everyone is growing and everything is changing. I'm reaching the peak of my youth, and soon I'm going to be 20, then 30, then 40, then I've lost all of my hair and not long after that I'm dead. My feet have already been placed upon that path.

How do you slow things down?


Friday, April 29, 2011

Changing Education Paradigms

I'm not exactly sure why I found this interesting. It's probably because I'm a student, so these kinds of things are relevant to me, I suppose.


Thursday, April 21, 2011

Why So Ambitious?

A genie has appeared that will cast a spell making you the most talented person in the world in any field of your choosing. You could be the greatest artist, the greatest fighter, the greatest musician, the greatest anything at all; however, it comes at a cost. No one will ever know about your talent.

Any work you create will be anonymous. No matter what you do, you will not receive recognition for it.

Was the talent really what you wanted?


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Monday, April 18, 2011

It's Sorta Like That, But Not Really.

You aren't supposed to care.

Expect more picture dumps.


Saturday, April 16, 2011

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Security Through Obscurity

In the technological age we live in, encoded information comes in many forms. Many companies (even the ones running this very website) use encryption to protect the information of their users and the structure of the website itself. The military has a history of using encoded messages so that valuable information isn't revealed to those not intended to see it. Children in middle school create secret codes in notes to pass to their friends. Encryption is everywhere.

Even the most secure encryption, however, has a flaw, just as the most well-equipped fortress contains a flaw: they are simple to find and they obviously contain something valuable. If someone sees an encoded message, it looks exactly that--a mess of characters or symbols, and, given enough time, can be decoded.

Steganography is different. Where encryption relies on a sort of "brute-force" defense, steganography instead relies on a theory of "you can't fight what you never knew existed." Information hidden by steganography could appear as anything, and those not intended to receive the message would never take notice. It could be printed on a box of cereal. It could be in the architecture of a building. It could be in the pixels or dimensions of a digital image of any conceivable type. It could be every third letter of every fifth word in a speech given decades ago. It could be this very blog post.


Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Sator Square



Monday, April 4, 2011


(Taken from The Books Of Terror And Longing, the Poetic Translations,
Book 2, Part III, translated by William Shelley, All Stars Aground

When they came to put their hands upon him
even then, they were slow
their movements strange and angled
as if they were guilty, and felt it,
though they professed to be angered and quick to dismiss
their movements betrayed their belief and all their fears were revealed.
There are undeniable truths in the faces of those
who would destroy you and everything you know and are
not a simple death
but a death that rings out, rings out
that echoes everywhere in the world until the sound is exterminated
by inertia
a death to fully end you
to erase you
This was the death they wanted for him
This was the death and the honor they gave him.
That morning was a cold one. We all rubbed our arms for warmth, gath-
ered to watch in the frost. There was almost never frost, so rare, and then
there we were, on that day, and the frost came, the most perfect of signs, the
most subtle of acknowledgments.
Because we knew this was It.
We are a not a religion of resurrections, Antiochus said.
We are not believers in second chances.
The square was an empty place.
There were no distractions.
The Romans read the proclamation,
but we barely heard it,
those words meant less than nothing and it was if they were speaking in a
foreign tongue
and didn’t we already feel so separate
didn’t we already feel so different and apart?
Our tongue was the foreign tongue
and we had lost all hope of understanding
now and forever
They tied his arms with force,
jerking the ropes back with malice and a snapping sound
I’m sure they wanted to break his arms.
Bu Antiochus never said a thing

never begged or pleaded
never opened his eyes a single inch.
His face had the look of someone in the most intense
of happinesses, the strongest of ecstasies
He was very happy
How like Christ!
We wanted a last sermon
we wanted to be taught one final thing
because it had not been enough
we were not better beings, not better people
we had not seen what he had seen and felt less for it
we wanted a final word
we wanted him to say anything, anything to us, anything meant for us
we didn’t want it to be over with everything left,
we didn’t say what we had wanted to say
but Antiochus said nothing
not even when his chest was on fire, and skin peeling,
because he had told us everything
shown us everything
and there was nothing special about what he saw
because don’t all of us see it?
every day, every year
all of us see it
all the time
and we don’t need to know anything special about it
we don’t need to learn anything new about it
because we already know
all of it
This was all there was
And when they put torch to tinder, I was smiling
grinning wide
the fire started with an aching swiftness
it didn’t hesitate for even a moment
how honorable
it just went about
it’s business.
I was so proud, then
when the fire ate away his skin and melted his bones
but they say the smoke filled his lungs,
and he was dead long before that
but I can only laugh
because they don’t know the half of it
Many of us were crying,
but they were fools, and hadn’t understood a single thing
that had happened.
It is not sadness that those people feel
it is desperation
it is fear and withering cold
that is the smoke that rings you
that is the fog that hides you, and that you curl around your shoulders

like a blanket in the night-time
it is the air you breathe and you cannot move away from it
because there is no away from it
no away at all
God knew this!
He knew this and he put you here
he created and he destroys
creates the one-things that exist
and destroys the things that never did
undoes those that might have been but never were
holds their heads under the water
his reasons always uncertain
but his certainty everywhere,
slowly compressing all space until our legs and face and chest
and knees and hands are broken and touching and folded
into ourselves
All things that are made are thus limited
they are only what they are
and no more
nothing can be built or born
only reproduced
only dumbly copied
But now I remember a story he told us
about this very thing
in the days before the holiest-murdered-one
before there was a history to think of
before there was a past or present
all the people were of god, and he of them
and god spoke to every man and woman
and he answered them in their prayers
(there was a time when god answered prayers!
when we didn’t have to search for him and think of reasons
to explain away his absence!)
and spoke to them in their dreams
and there was nothing but his will, every action and reaction
were his and his alone
each breath of wind and mote of dust
there was only god in the world.
and each man was a piece of this
with no existence in and of themselves, but
only as a part of the god-will
fragments of the greatest whole
the absolute.
And into this world was born a single man
with a sense of self
a feeling of otherness
the first modern man
not the same, somehow apart from everything and everyone
like a man standing in front of a painting
and everywhere he carried this feeling in him
always in his gut, pressing in on his forehead
he was bitter in happiness
and angered at peace

for it was never of him, and he was never of it
never his
everything was separate
and he couldn’t feel anything, and his soul was untouched
because it did not
and to no part of the spirit did he owe any allegiance
he was all stomach and heart and gut
his eyes saw only earth and sky and shit and vomit
things as they were, and it made him doomed and ecstatic
miserable and bitter and cunning and euphoric
and he was the first human, the only human
and some others called him Satan, but that could not have been his name
because he had not even that much angel in him.
We all bear his name today, our human race,
because he was the first,
and we are all his brothers and children and wives
we are his only family
because those who bore him failed him
as only your family can fail you
but now we are his family
his family, his family,
and so it was that it was he who convinced them
and so it was us who convinced them
you and I
to build a set of stairs
stairs unto the highest point
where the sky and stars meet in the darkest of their upper spheres
the deep black shore of the sky’s ocean
And it was he who was the first Hunter
the first to kill for food, the first to feel the need
the need to seek, to find and track and kill
to end things to begin things
was this not just like God?
Just what God would have done, and had done?
This was how beginnings and endings entered the world
no longer incorporeal things, left up to chance
but now made physical, with arms and legs and limbs of uncaring econ-
Through arrow head and sharpened stone
through a gap in the flesh where time and nothingness
and death and ending fell out and splashed their redness everywhere
blood pouring into the river
where he washed their skins and cleaned his hands and face
and washed the smell of it right off of himself.
Blood flowed there and made it’s way into the salt blue ocean waves and
and fish would drink that blood,
gathered up in schools and drunk with the headiness of lifetimes on land,
diffused with salt and saline, so light now, so small, that none could taste
it’s coppery stinging, but all were drinking,
all were eating,
all had blood inside them which was not their blood

,had stolen the blood of another,
bloody and not wholly themselves any longer and never would be again,
now part something-else,
blood brothers they would never see and that were already dead.
But no one cared, and no one complained.
In fact, they felt better, they felt full.
Men and women are creatures of appetites,
and they traded their love for a full belly
very, very long ago.
And they felt filled with it, and alive, both dead and alive,
and in the nights they whispered,
laying close in the frost and the dark,
pressing into one another to feel the beating heart
of another person, someone outside themselves
as living proof, living proof
they were not the last one, they were not the very last one
because when dark is everywhere all of our confidences are forgotten
and man is only a child again, without stick or blade or bludgeon
and the world is at it once was, wholly a place of the animals
where all churches are built to honor the tooth-and-claw
and all of human intelligence is worth exactly nothing
a place of pounding hearts and desperate running and crashing through
fallen tree-limbs
an unknowable chaos of wilderness
where beasts chant out into the frozen night-times
“who will kill, and who will eat, and who will die”
a perfect, even chorus
not a note out of place.
In those nights, the people whispered
“The Hunter does us all a great service
and we have done so much to deserve it
with axe and arrow, fire and stone,
he opens up the world for us
has fed us well
so brave and strong, cunning, wise
the best of all of us
because he dreams of how it shall be
and so it becomes;
he sees a better life”.
And they respected him
the respect we save for violent men
who have always been our leaders, and always will be
those we condemn when they act
exactly as we’ve always wished we could act
those who live with their hearts in their mouths and hands
the men we worship
when what we really worship is death
and those who can bring it to us
because we long for it.
We long for it.
And this was how he convinced them
to bend their backs
and angle their knees
to put hands on earth and arches in their necks

muscles tensed, skin damp and sweating
pushing weight onto weight, holding themselves up
to make a solid height and a stable base
as good as stone, and as strong
he used their trust, they gave him faith
freely, freely they had traded
and he shook his bow, and flashed his eyes
he told them of the life they gained, his to give
the only separate one, the only different one
who stood apart and felt nothing of life and nothing for it
and all those men, all those women
gave of their bodies everything there was
every inch and every sinew
and made themselves just things
not people but steps
not women but steps
not men but steps
steps for his feet, every human back
every human neck
but still, it wasn’t enough
we must go further, the hunter said
I hunt the darkest game, he cowers in the shadows of the black-blue sky
and still I feel this gap in me
the space between the world and my soul
a nothing-space, I feel it there -
but there were no more men, and no more women,
no more backs and no more necks,
so the Hunter asked the animals.
Those he’d eaten, he asked their bones
he asked dead mothers, he asked dead sons
asked the ones hidden in the stones, in crawl-spaces and burrows
in the dark holes of the trees
in their leaves and in the water
and he showed them his bow, and his eyes flashed,
and they alone knew,
all of them knew
they knew, they knew, they knew
they had always been separate
they had always had gaps, they had always been gaps
had always had spaces where hearts could have been
because God made them first, but had not made them best
had kept them in shadows and forests and fields
had let them be hunted, always afraid
afraid of being killed, afraid of being eaten
while they themselves killed, and ate
each other
God had let it happen
had made it happen
and it kept happening, every day,
and would keep happening, forever
yes, they knew
the animals know everything
and all in their thousands
they bared their teeth

and they bowed their heads
every plant, every animal
added weight, added height
and all the while they laughed secret laughs.
all taking place, all now a part
all act the part, all as one, all without selves
lost in the whole, that massive stair
now tall enough, he shouted, raised above the clouds
to where the air grew thin, to where the light blinked out
up higher than this, to the highest point revealed
by any time,
the highest of all.
And that man placed his foot
square onto the smalls of their backs
square onto the napes of their necks
square onto their eyes and their mouths
he took their stairs two at a time
he ran
he was not tired
he was happy, so happy
this was it
this was
And at the very top,
where he was alone, but not alone
he pulled back his string
and he tightened his bow
and said nothing at all
just breathed
and held it, a moment, and then
let everything go
no troubles
no fears
no people
no forests
no animals
no earth
no space
no souls
no nothing
no anything
and there were arrowheads
And one
only one
stuck fast into the throat of God.
And God fell, limp and dead, straight into the Earth
with every bone broken
and that arrow was driven straight out of the back God’s neck by the solid
and silhouetted against the sunlight

like the only tree standing in a burned out wood
Like a hunted animal, dead on the ground
God bled out slow until his heart stopped.
Like a stuck pig.
Like a dog on a spit.
And the hand that steered the ship
the plow that broke the plains
broke into a thousand jagged pieces.
And it took only minutes
for those people to come down
and, without a thought,
they began eating,
with their bare hands they ripped apart anything they could find
and ate until they were too full to move.
We are at that Desperate Banquet right now.
If you listen you can hear them chewing.


Thursday, March 31, 2011

The Sunsets Are Bloody Marvelous

"I am anti-life, the beast of judgement. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds... of everything. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?"

"I am hope."

- The Sandman

Monday, March 28, 2011

Stick It To The Man

I was feeling a little under the weather when I woke up this morning, so I decided not to go to school. I was feeling a bit artsy since I watched Exit Through The Gift Shop last night (which is an excellent film that I would recommend to anyone with an interest in street art), so I got out my markers and decided to make something.

Which resulted in this masterpiece. Fortunately for the city-workers and business owners of my town, I'm giving it to my friend to stick on his guitar.


Saturday, March 26, 2011

Earth Hour

"Earth Hour 2011 will take place on March 26, 2011."

"Earth Hour is a global event organized by WWF (World Wide Fund for Nature, also known as World Wildlife Fund) and is held on the last Saturday of March annually, asking households and businesses to turn off their non-essential lights and other electrical appliances for one hour to raise awareness towards the need to take action on climate change."


Earth Hour is happening tonight, so if you'd like to be the most boring type of super-hero, turn off your lights!


Thursday, March 17, 2011

Tattoo Guide

I've made this handy flowchart to help you make that big decision.


Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Story #6: On the Shortness of Time

If I could live without the thought of death,
Forgetful of Time's waste, the soul's decay,
I would not ask for other joy than breath,
With light and sound of birds and the sun's ray.
I could sit on untroubled day by day
Watching the grass grow, and the wild flowers range
From blue to yellow and from red to grey
In natural sequence as the seasons change.
I could afford to wait, but for the hurt
Of this dull tick of time which chides my ear.
But now I dare not sit with loins ungirt
And staff unlifted, for death stands too near.
I must be up and doing--ay, each minute.
The grave gives time for rest when we are in it. 

- Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

One of my favorite poems simply because I feel that I know exactly where the author was coming from, because I, too, dream of immortality.


Story #5: Original Sin


an artist
an artist
one day he drew a garden
while sitting on his patio beneath an umbrella

the artist
he SAW
the artist
green as an apple
writhing about the stones near his petunias

an artist
with FEAR
an artist
took his wooded brush
and set out to smite thy slithering foe

said artist
said artist
"Back from my garden!
Back or I will set my dogs upon you!"

and so he did...



a snake
a snake
set out upon his fate
to ravage and scourge the garden

thy snake
with VENOM
thy snake
with COILS
did approach the premise
with a heart full of anger and disdain

saw snake
saw snake
the figure of a painter
lunging 'neath the afternoon sun

did snake
did snake
place its death-like fangs
in thou painter's fleshy thigh

and the poison did spread...



a dog
with FUR
a dog
with VIGOR
did come to his master's aide
panting and rampaging among the flowers

spake dog
with WOOFS
spake dog
with BARKS
"Arf arf arf arf
Arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf!"

struck dog
struck dog
and did the snake retreat
inflected with grevious and mortal wounds

did dog
did dog
receive his caretaker's praise
in thy master's final moments of life.

and his master did die...


a poem written collaboratively with my friend. enjoy.


Monday, March 14, 2011

"The Inferno" Quotes

 Get up! breathe with the soul, for it is brave in every battle, and will always win, unless the heavy body be its grave.
- Canto XXIV hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain.
- Canto V

Amor, ch'al cor gentil ratto s'apprende 
(Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize.)
- Canto V

"Be silent, thou accursed wolf;
Consume within thyself with thine own rage.

Not causeless is this journey to the abyss;
Thus is it willed on high, where Michael wrought
Vengeance upon the proud adultery."

Even as the sails inflated by the wind
Involved together fall when snaps the mast,
So fell the cruel monster to the earth.

-Canto VII



-Canto III

I'm reading The Inferno for my English class. I'll post more interesting quotes as I come across them; this book is full of incredible quotes.


Thursday, March 10, 2011

Story #4: The Suicide King

Modern playing cards are filled with layers of meaning and symbology that can be traced back centuries. The four kings, for example, are based off of real rulers: the king of diamonds represents the wealthy Julius Caesar, the king of clubs is the brutal Alexander the Great, Spades represents the strong but kind David of Israel and Hearts represents the… emotionally disturbed, shall we say, Charles VII of France. It is this king that we will be dealing with today. It should also be noted that Charles was the only one of the four who was actually there to see the day that his face was printed on a playing card, which may rationalize why he acted apart from the others.

Charles’ visage was put on the king of hearts at the very beginning of his rule, but he never really got a chance to come into contact with playing cards until many years later when he became very ill with a fever and was informed that he would be bedridden for the rest of his life. It was during this period that Charles began learning card games to pass the time, such as an early version of black jack, “vingt-et-un” (twenty one).

Charles lay in his bed for two years, constantly fiddling with the cards and always getting weaker. As time continued to pass, there were reports that Charles had begun obsessing over the idea that the king being the thirteenth card in a suit was causing him bad luck. He talked about how he was starting to see the number pop up everywhere and that he was close to figuring out its secret. Of course, his ramblings were blamed on the fever, and by the end of the second year, he had been declared insane, and his son Louis XII took over the thrown.

One day, several months after the end of his reign, one of Charles’ physicians went to his chamber to find the frail old man standing in the middle of the room wielding a large sword. Before the doctor could react, the king said, “Ils m’ont montré la vérité de treize, et il n’est pas signifié pour les yeux mortels.” which roughly translates to, “They have shown me the truth of thirteen, and it is not meant for mortal eyes.” Without hesitation the king proceeded to ram the blade in through the left side of his head (between the ear and temple) until it came out the other side. He wavered a moment, before collapsing to the floor dead.

After the incident was announced and it was made public that the king had gone mad, the image of Charles on the king of hearts was altered to show himself offing himself. Although the picture is now shown significant-ly less graphically, the image of Charles thrusting the sword into his skull can still be found on modern day playing cards. Perhaps the strangest part of the whole story, however, is the day that Charles chose to kill himself: 7/6/1462. Whether or not it was intentional of the king, the facts that 6+7=13 and 1+4+6+2=13 can only be explained as coincidences. 

- Masartorio

Creepy, right? As it turns out, there is actually some truth to this one.


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Story #3: Ash Ketchum Theory

Did one ever know the reason why the pacing and story development change after Ash was hit by lightning in the beginning episodes? How Ash and his world were relatively normal until after the incident? I have a theory. The accident with the bike put Ash in a coma. Days later he was found and was hurried to the hospital and treated with heavy medications. This is why Team Rocket became less menacing. The medication took effect and stabilized his coma dreams, instead of being terrifying, they became idyllic, and he's able to live out his Pokémon master fantasies.

If one had noticed, the early episodes of Pokémon were of amazing quality. The rest of the series is just the results of his subconscious mind fulfilling his desires, as well as attempting to escape them. Should Ash realize he's in a coma, he would wake up, but suffer brain damage. So he has to take down all his mental barriers one by one until he can come to grips with what he is and escape his coma.

Ash's World

This explains why he doesn't change much physically. Also, the worldwide socialism can be explained if you once again realize that this is a dream world; he thought up a safe system of government that would run smoothly and keeps the world going allowing his adventures to work like they do. It also explains a few other things, such as how a child can go off on his own in a world full of dangerous untamed animals, and why every Pokémon center has the same exact nurse. Joy and Jenny he knew from his hometown, and they act as a safety net or anchor, allowing him to feel safe no matter where he goes. The professors, like the Joy's and Jenny's represent stability, and ash's ideals. This is why Gary became a professor. It's also the reason that every time he enters a new region, virtually no one has heard of him, despite his conquests, and why Giovanni leads Team Rocket. How could Paul, the rival of the Sinnoh area, not know of someone who has placed in at least the top 16 of all three leagues and has destroyed the Orange league and Battle Frontier?

Ash's Friends

Ash’s traveling partners are actually aspects of himself he can enjoy, but doesn't like to associate with himself. Team Rocket are his qualities that he deems "negative", but is coming to terms with. Jesse and James want to appease Giovanni, Ash's Father. Meowth especially wants to appease him because he remembers the good times with Giovanni. This places Meowth in a category known as ash's (corrupted) innocence, and another fragment of ash's humanity. If you note that Meowth can speak this quickly becomes apparent. In fact the whole reason for Meowth's speech is so he can help Ash accept Team rocket as part of himself eventually.

Brock represents his fatherly instincts, neither of which Ash can come to terms with. Brock leaves his siblings to "journey" with Ash. because Ash can't cope with having that much responsibility, much as his foray with a real relationship ends on mysterious terms. Ash just cannot handle commitment at his mental level. Brock's Stay with professor Ivy was an attempt to outright suppress his desires. You'll notice that James got much more dialogue in this part of the series, as well as getting more touchy feel-y with his
Pokémon and getting most of his back-story. Ash didn't enjoy this much, hence the reasons Brock comes back all horrified, and refuses to speak about it. (ash's subconscious was repressing him at the time, so other than a general feeling of dread he has no idea of what went on then.) This is also why Brock keeps coming back to the series...Usually AFTER Ash meets a new girl aspect of himself.

Misty is an image that Ash had of a girl. This is why she plays so prevalently in the series but is ultimately unattainable because he never really knew her before the coma. Likely the one that helped get him to a hospital. I have a theory in line with this: Since Misty was his initial love interest (if only subconsciously), he needed her to reach a level of womanhood. He felt that people could only have relationships when they've matured. But in practice, it turned out he couldn't cope with it and just wanted the normal, pushy, arrogant Misty he knew, and wouldn't let her keep Togepi anymore.

Misty is Ash's first attempt at a girl he could love, however, being a girl from the real world, all he really he knew of her was her anger, as a result she ended up quite hot headed in his mind. Constantly berating his inaptness, but eventually mellowing out until she had faded into the background. This was also traumatizing to him, being attached to it. Since then, the thought of anyone around him maturing to adulthood has been blocked, and anyone who shows signs of it will quickly end up leaving for another, more naive fill-in.

Max came with May, she played the Id with great aspirations, and he played the sensible Ego that "Session". They worked for a little while but Ash, being a teenager he kept reinventing himself and eventually wrote new aspects, but his mind slowly brought back the old ones as a crutch to make the transition easier.

Dawn is Ash giving himself a chance to love. since he already established Misty as someone he's not likely to go anywhere with, he created a new super female, one that was more like him, and less violent all the time. (One will note that both May and Misty had no tolerance for Brock whatsoever whereas dawn seems to try and shrug it off.) .

Tracey, The Breeder was a possible future for Ash that he discarded. It was one that he sent off to work with the Professor (the professors being Ash's ultimate ideal of a father figure) when he disrupted the dynamic Ash had with his other possibilities. Ash's mind is fighting the coma and since Ash viewed this one as a companion he was quickly replaced with a more threatening Rival.

Pikachu obviously represents Ash's Humanity, hence the episodes where they get separated, and ash wants desperately to find him, even to the point of working with the rockets ( aspects of himself he would never normally associate with) but for some reason cannot. They want to steal Pikachu (Ash’s humanity) and hand it over to his father, Giovanni. Jesse and James will always oppose ash because ash is terrified of the thought of his humanity lying in the hands of his father. However this is the same reason that he will work with those aspects of himself in order to save his humanity from just becoming flat out LOST. He couldn't evolve his Pikachu without challenging his concept of who he was, something he wasn't comfortable with while he was still working through his original issues.

Another thing is the narrator. The narrator is Ash's higher mind, recapping and explaining the progress he's made and the tribulations he will face allowing itself insight into how best to awaken him.

Ash's Family

Ash has issues With his Father; so he put him atop the evil corporation, and demonized him. There may be an actual team rocket, and I'm positive they're quite dastardly, but I doubt that ash's father is their leader, in fact the head of the rockets wasn't really identified as anyone until later on in the series. The split between ash's parents was likely over some sort of incident Ash did making a catalyst for the divorce, forcing his father to disown him and his mother to move out of the city and down to pallet town. This is why Giovanni runs the faceless Vile corporation, and Why he Berates Jesse, James, and Meowth as much as he does, and why they keep trying to please him. Another thing to notice is the difference in uniform, The rockets Wear Black and Red, where Team Rocket wears White...a symbol of their purity and naievete. They're willing to please father despite his utter hatred of those parts of Ash .

Mr. Mime is actually a stand in for Ash's father, one that can't emotionally abuse him or his mom. He is a Pokémon, a peace loving creature that's oddly humanoid, but that can never hurt a human. Ash's was never really hurt by a Pokémon, so he sees them all as harmless; whereas, in the real world they may be quite feral or vicious (as seen in the early episodes). Again falling back to the theory that the only real Pokémon are the ones from the first season, and everything else is just further speculation coming from his mind on what new species would look like.

Ash's Foes

Team rocket are aspects of Ash's personality that he has deemed "bad" James helplessness, and Jesse’s vanity. You'll remember that Meowth has the potential for rehabilitation, and doesn't want to be evil, so yet again this fits in with the conflicting personalities and demonized self theory. Team rocket started cross-dressing because ash had to come to terms with that part of himself. It was something he was able to allow his vain side to experiment with (and by virtue of that himself) When he found that it wasn't something for him, his "Free" side stopped playing with it. Further, their methods of capture become more and more ludicrous (and physically impossible) because Ash is just a kid dreaming these things up. This is the reason Team Rocket's disguises are always believed. He knows it's them (on some level), but chooses to ignore it, so he can better himself, in a sense the Ash who wants to escape is sabotaging the ash who wants to stay lost in his mind. So that there can be more conflict, and hopefully an eventual escape.

The filler episodes that don't focus on Ash and the gang are his mind working through, and humanizing the parts of himself that he demonized. It's a way for him to deal with issues that Ash and crew wouldn't touch, because it involves treading ground he himself had sworn not to go near. As I said, Team Rocket and the episodes they occupy are Ash dealing with ground he feels uncomfortable with tackling on his own. Jessie is Ash's vanity and gullibility, she will trick Ash into doing her bidding so she can please father. James' troubled childhood is his way of justifying his latent helplessness. I believe the split between Ash's parents was caused by this part of Ash, maybe an incident at school, bringing shame on the family and forcing them to move to the small, country town of Pallet. Ash's motivations for his journey were to escape mounting pressure at home.

So in a way, Ash IS Team Rocket. The rest of the whole organization Including Butch and Cassidy is symbolic of his inability to escape his father's machinations.

The new teams ( magma, aqua, and galactic) are Ash attempting to work out the problems he has with his father. to do that he first needs a new "bad guy" to feel good about beating, and if Giovanni isn't leading a criminal organization he can more easily relate to him.

The Pokemon in Ash's World

If one recalls, there were real animals early in the show and references to animals in the game and show. For example, a clear case to point out is the aquarium of fish in the Cerulean City Gym or that by the Pokédex that Pikachu is a “rat-like” Pokémon. But they don't matter to Ash's psyche so they don't come into play much. If Ash had loved puppies, everything would be about different breeds of dogs, and a dog fighting circuit. But, as the series goes on longer, we've been seeing less realistic animals and more Pokémon. This could be a sign of Ash’s mind deteriorating. As he's in this coma, he's losing concepts of some animals and machinery and replacing them with Pokémon. It could explain things like electric Pokémon working as power generators. A sign that his memory of the old world is slipping more and more as time goes by. The Pokémon realm will be idealized continuously the longer he has no stimulus from the real world. He may or may not be mentally deteriorating , but he is becoming more accustomed to his fake world's rules. The wild Pokémon are his rationalizations of the functioning of the world. It’s the "A wizard did it" Syndrome. If he doesn't know how it works, his mind says Pokémon. He justifies anything he can't explain with Pokémon, and real animals fall into the background because he has no real interest in them.

The Pokémon in Ash's team are his issues, for example Charmander represents his growth from child to teenager at first it's a cute easy to control thing, but eventually becomes a raging inferno of disobedience. Acquiring his team means getting at his issues, but as he trains them, he works said issues out. Other trainers are more direct forms of his issues, ones that he must either come to terms with or outright suppress. Gym leaders are more primary aspects of his personality with each Pokémon being stronger than the last, to display a level of skill he could be capable of if only he gave into it. In effect, he is doing battle with a part of him that he would rather not have in control. Bulbasaur was Ash's unwillingness to change, this is reflected when it declines to evolve and how it almost decided to stay behind unless he battled it. Squirtle was his willingness to follow the lead of others, as evidenced by the gang it ran with, even though he ran the gang, they were viewed as one group, and ash's subconscious just gave him the strongest one. Butterfree was his crushing loneliness, which he dealt with when he released it to join a flock. His bird types are his recklessness, always willing to sacrifice something at a moment's notice for the win. When Ash is trading Pokémon, it's an attempt to push his own problems away on someone else; however, he realizes this and usually trades back fairly quickly. Originally ash had the battles, which evolved into team battles and contests. The explanation for this is that his issues became more and more complicated, and the means of dealing with them needed to become more complex. the fact that he uses issues that he has already dominated to win these are signs that he's growing stronger.

Not only are Ash’s Pokémon are a manifestation of different parts of himself, so are Pokémon of other trainers as well. Koffing and Ekans were symbolic of Team Rocket's willingness to change; hence, their evolutions. Once his mind beat that roadblock down and allowed them to change once, it gives him the chance to truly change. Pupitar is a rationalization, a Pokémon that a rival caught before he met him. Even Ash would become suspicious if everyone he met had no carry-over from previous places he had been to.

Ash releases his Pokémon because his mind is forcing him to let go of them. The second he raises an overpowered team, a tournament comes up, and after fighting his way through it he has to go to a new land for new challenges, but with an overpowered team, there won't be any challenges, and no way to motivate him further, part of Ash wants to stay in the coma, and keep journeying.

Ash's Journey

Ash's traveling also never really nets him any fame, no matter what he does, or where he goes, and the answer for that is simple. Ash just can't picture himself as famous, so he essentially adopts a new identity every few months.

The reason he never truly becomes a master is because that would mean he'd have nothing left to dream, and would wake up from his coma. Ash’s dual personality is one that wants to maintain his fantasy world and slowly sort his thoughts out carefully. The other part wants freedom, and to return to his real life, to finally become a real Pokémon master. However if he's allowed to keep his powerful team there's no reason to meet and tame new Pokémon(Issues), he'll lose interest, and the chance of becoming self-aware comes around again. So it's not that he gives them up, it's that he loses them, and unless he's desperate (such as with Charizard) he can't get them back. It’s basically his mind forcing him to deal with his issues. It would also be a good reason why Paul has shown up at this point, and Ash has been forced to work with him on at least one occasion: It's his mind's last ditch efforts to snap him out of this, to force Ash to actually come to terms that this perfect world is not the best option and he needs to wake up. Paul is Ash's dark side, one that wants to push on even harder and harder, and the part of him that will stop at nothing to escape this coma world.

Ash’s rivals and the Elite four are ultimately the strongest part of this cycle. Having Pokémon that are essentially invincible, they represent both what can be attained and what is unattainable. Gary Oak is what Ash wants to be. He is wish fulfillment. He succeeded, and settled down to a normal life. Ash needs someone to succeed in his world or he won't be able to validate it and will start questioning why he's where he is. It’s a subconscious trap to keep him from becoming too aware of his situation. His mind must have figured out that awareness of the coma would snap him out of it, but it would cause major brain damage, so it took something the boy already loved and built a way out for him with it. However Ash is too complacent to finally fight his way out of it, and cannot escape. This is why he keeps encountering Legendary Pokémon, they're his mind's way of showing him he can do great things if he tries, and it's a way to encourage him to push forwards. The Legendary Pokémon are Ash's mind telling him that he has greatness in him and thus, can escape his happy–go–lucky reality.

Ash's Rivals and Others

Ash's Rivals are all possible futures he envisions for himself (note that they are all older than him). This originated with Gary Oak, someone Ash knew from real life, and built up into a sort of hero within his mind. Gary however progressed and changed to suit Ash's vision of himself and ultimate desire, eventually settling down into a professor after beating the Elite Four. With Gary in retirement his mind needed a new rival for him Thus the births of Richie (the Good aspect of his rivalry) and Paul (as the darker aspect, a cut-throat Ash, willing to do anything to escape the coma world).

Richie and his Pikachu were another success story for Ash, but he wanted one he could be closer with. One nearly identical to him. One that even used a similar roster to him. Paul and his Chimchar are the polar opposite of Richie, Paul wants nothing to do with any kind of weakness, and is almost aware of his situation. He's always pushing for something more.

The reason he discarded his original hat and the elements of Japanese culture so prevalent in the first season is simple. He wanted to travel and broaden his horizons, every time he reinvented himself to do so; he lost touch with his original self. If he ever does escape the coma he'll likely have achieved a sort of Zen state. With the amount of personal issues he deals with inside his head, and that the lightning strike and subsequent coma are a way for him to realize his true self, and destiny.

The Turn from Article to Fan Fiction

Mewtwo was a new form of treatment, done with electric impulses and a machine to knock Ash out of it, taking down every last one of his mental guards (the original Pokémon in the movie). In Ash's mind, Mewtwo and his clones were the treatment for the mental safe guards that were protecting Ash and keeping him comatose; the Pokémon of his world. The clones were counters to Ash's mental safeties, and so each appeared to Ash as the exact copy of his defense, intended to take it down by Force. The clones didn't play by the rules of Ash's world, they didn't use any special Pokémon attacks or moves – they just beat down their counterpart by brute strength. The treatment was working, but there were side effects. The electric jolts were beginning to affect Ash's nervous system, and if the treatment continued, he would be paralyzed. His mind realized this and manifested it to Ash by petrifying him in his dream. Were it not for the end of the treatment by Ash's mother (knowing her son would never want to live in a world he couldn’t explore) Ash would have remained as stone in his dream. After this, Ash needed to recover from the damage of the electric therapy. Obviously it was greatly dangerous to him, and in order to reduce the danger Ash's consciousness felt from it, Ash's subconscious began downplaying the effects of electricity in Ash's world, which is why Pikachu’s electric attacks -once noted for their strength by Team Rocket – no longer have any effect on Ash, other than comic relief.

Even the world Ash lives in evidences this. The sprawling forests and eco-friendly cities are all his childish innocence. He never travels on a bike despite the distance due to the accident having given him a phobia of them.

As one could see, it is very likely that Ash is trapped in his world. But like every dream, everything, there is a beginning and an end. What would happen if Ash could fully recover? What would happen if he never does? There are infinite branches of possibilities that spiral upwards and intertwine towards the top at a single point, both in his “world” and the real world. In his hospital room, we see Delia, obviously distraught talking to a doctor with a grim look in his eye. He's saying that their insurance is up, and the boy has had no change in brain activity for seven years. That a shock like this may awaken him. She tearfully agrees.

Professor Oak is there to comfort her as they take Ash off life support.

In Ash’s “world”.

Ash has finally defeated the elite four, and one by one the people around him start disappearing. eventually everything is black. Pikachu comes dashing towards him glowing brighter and brighter in the darkness. Eventually Pikachu reaches ash and the two embrace one last time.

Back in his room, as his life signs fade, Ash mutters his genuine, final words.



The image of his gaunt, tube-fed, ten-some-year bed ridden body on the bed. His head appears bulbous from atrophy. As he utters his last words, he barely opens his eyes, seeing a silhouette of the figure at the center of his turbulent emotions, his mother, her face obstructed by her hands wiping away tears. He makes contact with her eyes and lets out one last tear before losing all strength. She breaks down in hysterics.

The worst part of all this is that Ash will die, never having experienced actual love, imagine if you will, having lived in a world like his, completely shut off from all things but yourself, and your perception of yourself, with nothing but better yourself. No other people to interact with and issues to solve with no guiding hand.

The boy will die, never having known his dream, except as naught but a dream. The second he gets out into reality for that last moment, part of him knows it was all a lie, his faithful Pikachu? His friends? All his imagination, and maybe, he could have fought and clung to life, maybe even made a full recovery. But knowing that his efforts and ambitions had all been for naught, he just gave up and let the motion carry him away, just so he could be with Pikachu, in a place where his friends were waiting.

I would like to think that he'll realize that his mother loved him and was holding out hope that he'd recover all that time. On the flip side, though, when he sees her he knows that the hope she had is totally broken and she'd come to the crushing realization that the worst thing that can befall a parent has happened to her: outliving her only child. At once he knows he is loved and that it means that the one closest to him is utterly crushed.

The Conclusion

Still, there are other possibilities. The fountain of time flows in mysterious ways. One could not go back, against the current such as Gatsby; but, one could never see what is waiting for him downstream. Ash finally defeats Lance, only to be confronted by not Gary Oak, but a mute, mirror image of himself.

The voice of the narrator speaks to him, telling him that now he can finally escape the prison of his own mind. One by one, his friends appear and melt away into more copies of him, all cheering him on. After a long tough battle against himself with the assistance of all of his Pokémon he had ever befriended, he jolts awake.

In his hospital room he sees his parents asleep; he finds himself unable to speak.

Ash pushes forward towards his recovery. Going through physical therapy, training harder and harder with rehabilitative Pokémon, until he can walk on his own again. This time, an older and wiser ash sets out on a journey. Just like last time, he's late getting to Professor Oak's laboratory. And when there's only one Pokémon left...He suddenly recalls all his memories of his "life" and realizes that all his friends are gone forever.

As he sets out with his new companion, he finds the world is darker than he imagined. More “real”, Pokémon and people die; he too has aged.

He vows to become the Master he dreamed he was. He vows to himself.

He vows to “them”.

I WILL be the very best!


 This is probably the most lengthy story I'll be posting, but it does make you question things, eh?


Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Story #2: The Portraits

There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning.

As he looked around the inside of the cabin, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by several portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred and malice. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, the hunter awoke - he turned, blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.


Though it's short, this is one of my favorite scary stories.


Monday, March 7, 2011


"Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration of fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don't bother concealing your thievery-celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: 'It's not where you take it things from-it's where you take them to.'"

- Jim Jarmusch ec.wolf

Story #1: Untitled

An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn’t certain of which direction to go, and he’d forgotten both where he was traveling to and who he was. He’d sat down for a moment to rest his weary legs, and suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke: “Now your third wish. What will it be?”
“Third wish?” The man was baffled. “How can it be a third wish if I haven’t had a first and second wish?”
“You’ve had two wishes already,” the hag said, “but your second wish was for me to return everything to the way it was before you had made your first wish. That’s why you remember nothing; because everything is the way it was before you made any wishes.” She cackled at the poor man. “So it is that you have one wish left.”
“All right,” he said, “I don’t believe this, but there’s no harm in wishing. I wish to know who I am.”
“Funny,” said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. “That was your first wish.”


Since school is keeping me pretty busy lately, I think the next few posts are going to consist of interesting stories I've collected.

Who doesn't love a good story?


Sunday, February 27, 2011

Mock-Heroic Story

Once there was a boy, whom of his siblings he was the younger,
Who was sitting in his room alone when he began to hunger.
He decided it was time to eat a sandwich,
So large and hearty, his stomach it would enrich.
But there was a problem here,
Yes, as he entered the kitchen it became quite clear,
There was no sandwich already made,
His culinary prowess must be displayed!
He gathered his courage and opened the refrigerator;
He would show his hunger who was greater.
The meat, the mayo, and sliced cheese too,
Upon the counter these things he threw.
With wheat bread and lettuce he was prepared,
To face the famine against which he was squared.
He unsheathed his blade: a butter knife!
He was determined to end his hunger; to save his very life.
Grasping the mayonnaise in his mighty grip,
He spread it upon the bread like waves beneath a sailing ship.
The next ingredient was the sliced cheese,
Which he placed upon the sandwich with expertise.
Next he gathered lettuce green as the Emerald Isle;
Truly this would be a meal worthwhile.
The meat was ham fresh from the corner deli,
He could hear the roaring from his belly.
He lay down the final piece of bread with his work nearly complete,
His hands nimble like cat's feet,
He plucked an olive from the jar,
And to his hunger said “Au revoir!”

Here is a story I wrote for my AP English class as we read the Canterbury Tales.