I'm a fence-post right now, as in "Between you, me, and the fence-post". Yeah, but, I'm really excited about the possibilities. I can't go into what exactly it is, but it's going to be fun, and it's going to be very, very, interesting. Enlightening. Invigorating. Exasperating. And tons of other adjectives.
But, until I can say anything about it. I'm still a fence-post.
*sigh*
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Future Imperfect - Prologue 3
Day of Mourning - Olarune 20, 998 YK - Mid-morning in Flamekeep
"We gather here this morning to remember those lives that were lost four years ago," preached the priest from atop his makeshift pulpit. There weren't many people gathering around him, but it was his duty to speak. "Four years have gone by since Cyre was claimed by the Mists, and we still do not know why. But we do what we can, pray to the Flame that the souls of the departed find refuge and comfort."
The priest paused to take a breath, and heard a dull roar coming from the Cathedral. He turned, and saw a mass of people running down the steep roads that lead to the highest ground in the city. He could not tell what they were running from, but they were panicked.
"Brothers and Sisters. Do not fear, for the Flame protects us here in the city. What harm can come to us here?" he shouted to the first of the evacuating mob. They didn't slow down at all.
The priest stepped down and was quickly swept up in the flow, his body buffeted by the current of bodies. He finally relaxed and moved with the flow, allowing himself to become a part of the rushing mob.
The priest and the mob continued down the streets of Flamekeep, until they reached the edge of the water, and stopped. Some, brave or foolish, began to wade into the water.
"What happened?" asked the priest to one of the panicked members of the milling mob.
"The Flame, the Flame, the Flame," was all that he got in response, as well as an arm pointed at the Cathedral.
The priest looked, and even from the edge of the water, he could see the smoke rising from the Cathedral. It was not much, at least now, but as he watched, it increased, and grew darker. Within a minute the smoke flowed from all the windows and doors of the Cathedral, filling the sky with it's billowing darkness.
"Flame protect us," the priest said to himself.
He could not make the motions of blessing himself before he died.
Two miles away a caravan rider stopped when the bright flash erupted from the direction of Flamekeep. He stopped his wagon and stepped to the ground. As he began to walk past the horses, he fell to the ground, a massive shockwave causing him to fall.
An hour later the teamster crested the final ridge before Flameseep and stopped. Before him he saw only devastation. He fell to the ground, head in his hands, weeping uncontrollably. A minute later he stopped sobbing and stared up into the sky, raising his hands in protest, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Why!?"
"We gather here this morning to remember those lives that were lost four years ago," preached the priest from atop his makeshift pulpit. There weren't many people gathering around him, but it was his duty to speak. "Four years have gone by since Cyre was claimed by the Mists, and we still do not know why. But we do what we can, pray to the Flame that the souls of the departed find refuge and comfort."
The priest paused to take a breath, and heard a dull roar coming from the Cathedral. He turned, and saw a mass of people running down the steep roads that lead to the highest ground in the city. He could not tell what they were running from, but they were panicked.
"Brothers and Sisters. Do not fear, for the Flame protects us here in the city. What harm can come to us here?" he shouted to the first of the evacuating mob. They didn't slow down at all.
The priest stepped down and was quickly swept up in the flow, his body buffeted by the current of bodies. He finally relaxed and moved with the flow, allowing himself to become a part of the rushing mob.
The priest and the mob continued down the streets of Flamekeep, until they reached the edge of the water, and stopped. Some, brave or foolish, began to wade into the water.
"What happened?" asked the priest to one of the panicked members of the milling mob.
"The Flame, the Flame, the Flame," was all that he got in response, as well as an arm pointed at the Cathedral.
The priest looked, and even from the edge of the water, he could see the smoke rising from the Cathedral. It was not much, at least now, but as he watched, it increased, and grew darker. Within a minute the smoke flowed from all the windows and doors of the Cathedral, filling the sky with it's billowing darkness.
"Flame protect us," the priest said to himself.
He could not make the motions of blessing himself before he died.
Two miles away a caravan rider stopped when the bright flash erupted from the direction of Flamekeep. He stopped his wagon and stepped to the ground. As he began to walk past the horses, he fell to the ground, a massive shockwave causing him to fall.
An hour later the teamster crested the final ridge before Flameseep and stopped. Before him he saw only devastation. He fell to the ground, head in his hands, weeping uncontrollably. A minute later he stopped sobbing and stared up into the sky, raising his hands in protest, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Why!?"
Future Imperfect - Prologue 2
Day of Mourning - Olarune 20, 1048 YK - Evening over Flamekeep
The Golden Dragon slowed and began to fly in a wide circle. Fifty years previous, it would have been circling far above the busy bay around Flamekeep, just one of many ships, both in the air and on the water. It also would be among the rubble it was now circling.
Her captain stood at her bow, hands clasped behind his back. He we looking out at the hills to the west, and as the Golden Dragon circled, his gaze fell upon Scion's Sound, the bustling Throneport in the distance, then once more upon the hills. He gaze never ventured down, to look at the ruins of what was once the greatest capital in the Five Nations.
"Captain," said a tall female shifter, breaking his reverent silence.
"Yes Ms. Fraser?" he asked, a slight tone of annoyance in his question.
"Captain, you asked me to tell you when one of the other ships had arrived," she explained.
"Ah," he replied, then time with interest.
"Yes, the Ash Valley and the Angorn's Fancy have both arrived and have fallen in behind us," she informed him. "April says that the Argentvorax might be late, both otherwise the sending stone has been silent."
"Good, I guess it's time to inform our passengers that they can come out on deck. with both the Valley and the Fancy here, the Riedrans or the Karrnathi shouldn't interrupt us before the ceremony," he said, then sighed and walked aft, towards the bridge. "Dismissed Ms. Fraser."
She nodded, gave a quick salute, then turned on the ball of her foot and jogged off towards the stairs down into the ship.
The Golden Dragon slowed and began to fly in a wide circle. Fifty years previous, it would have been circling far above the busy bay around Flamekeep, just one of many ships, both in the air and on the water. It also would be among the rubble it was now circling.
Her captain stood at her bow, hands clasped behind his back. He we looking out at the hills to the west, and as the Golden Dragon circled, his gaze fell upon Scion's Sound, the bustling Throneport in the distance, then once more upon the hills. He gaze never ventured down, to look at the ruins of what was once the greatest capital in the Five Nations.
"Captain," said a tall female shifter, breaking his reverent silence.
"Yes Ms. Fraser?" he asked, a slight tone of annoyance in his question.
"Captain, you asked me to tell you when one of the other ships had arrived," she explained.
"Ah," he replied, then time with interest.
"Yes, the Ash Valley and the Angorn's Fancy have both arrived and have fallen in behind us," she informed him. "April says that the Argentvorax might be late, both otherwise the sending stone has been silent."
"Good, I guess it's time to inform our passengers that they can come out on deck. with both the Valley and the Fancy here, the Riedrans or the Karrnathi shouldn't interrupt us before the ceremony," he said, then sighed and walked aft, towards the bridge. "Dismissed Ms. Fraser."
She nodded, gave a quick salute, then turned on the ball of her foot and jogged off towards the stairs down into the ship.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Future Imperfect - Prologue 1
Day of Mourning - Olarune 20, 1048 YK - Early Morning over the King's Forest.
The rain was getting worse, already her visibility was barely a hundred feet off the bow. She looked out the glass of the small pilot house, watching as one of her crew, a warforged, came up to the door on the side.
She sighed, and stood up, hoping that the construct had good news, but doubting it in the weather.
It opened the door, quickly stepped inside, and closed it.
"Thirty-Six," she said, looking at the wet 'forged. She then commanded, "Report!"
It bowed it's head, the grey metal of it's armor plating dimly reflecting the small lamp mounted on the back wall of the pilot house, "This one regrets to inform you that the ship has disappeared."
She had expected this, especially in this weather, "Regrettable, but we should still be able to track it's rings, in fact, that's what you were supposed to be doing. So," she paused to adjust her uniform, "tell my how it disappeared."
If the warforged could be nervous, it probably would have been, "One second, the rings were there, just as before. Next second, rings were gone, no where in sight."
She sighed, "Dismissed." She then stared out the glass as the warforged opened the door into the rain, then closed it. She could see it make it's way across the small deck and the secure itself to the bow viewing station.
"Darlona," she said to herself, "what have you gotten yourself into?" She looked around at the small pilot house, barely five feet on a side, it's front dominated by glass windows, and it's back wall by various maps of the area. She sat back down in front of the wheel, and let out a heavy sigh.
"Back to base then," she said, turning the ship in a while arc, "Maybe I won't get demoted for losing the ship. It is quite stormy." She laughed to herself, looked down at the compass, and began the long journey back to base.
Half a mile away, though only a hundred feet or so above the ground, cruised an old and battered luxury airship.
"Captain," shouted a sailor as she let herself into the bridge, "The Kharvin is turning around. It worked."
"Good," said the captain, "we might get to Flamekeep after all." He slid his hand through he short, greying hair. His ship was old, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. As long as he didn't crash her into anything in the rain.
"Mr. Rancid," said the captain, looking over to the mithral plated warforged that piloted his ship, "take us to two thousand feet, and set a course for Flamekeep."
"Sir," it barked, and obediently began the effort of willing the elementals to go higher.
"Oh, and Mr. Rancid," said the Captain as he headed for the door at the front of the bridge, "do try and be graceful. We have an image to uphold. The Golden Dragon has been flying these skies for over fifty years. I intend for her to keep flying for fifty more."
"Aye Captain," replied the warforged as the Capain left the bridge for a walk in the rain.
The rain was getting worse, already her visibility was barely a hundred feet off the bow. She looked out the glass of the small pilot house, watching as one of her crew, a warforged, came up to the door on the side.
She sighed, and stood up, hoping that the construct had good news, but doubting it in the weather.
It opened the door, quickly stepped inside, and closed it.
"Thirty-Six," she said, looking at the wet 'forged. She then commanded, "Report!"
It bowed it's head, the grey metal of it's armor plating dimly reflecting the small lamp mounted on the back wall of the pilot house, "This one regrets to inform you that the ship has disappeared."
She had expected this, especially in this weather, "Regrettable, but we should still be able to track it's rings, in fact, that's what you were supposed to be doing. So," she paused to adjust her uniform, "tell my how it disappeared."
If the warforged could be nervous, it probably would have been, "One second, the rings were there, just as before. Next second, rings were gone, no where in sight."
She sighed, "Dismissed." She then stared out the glass as the warforged opened the door into the rain, then closed it. She could see it make it's way across the small deck and the secure itself to the bow viewing station.
"Darlona," she said to herself, "what have you gotten yourself into?" She looked around at the small pilot house, barely five feet on a side, it's front dominated by glass windows, and it's back wall by various maps of the area. She sat back down in front of the wheel, and let out a heavy sigh.
"Back to base then," she said, turning the ship in a while arc, "Maybe I won't get demoted for losing the ship. It is quite stormy." She laughed to herself, looked down at the compass, and began the long journey back to base.
Half a mile away, though only a hundred feet or so above the ground, cruised an old and battered luxury airship.
"Captain," shouted a sailor as she let herself into the bridge, "The Kharvin is turning around. It worked."
"Good," said the captain, "we might get to Flamekeep after all." He slid his hand through he short, greying hair. His ship was old, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. As long as he didn't crash her into anything in the rain.
"Mr. Rancid," said the captain, looking over to the mithral plated warforged that piloted his ship, "take us to two thousand feet, and set a course for Flamekeep."
"Sir," it barked, and obediently began the effort of willing the elementals to go higher.
"Oh, and Mr. Rancid," said the Captain as he headed for the door at the front of the bridge, "do try and be graceful. We have an image to uphold. The Golden Dragon has been flying these skies for over fifty years. I intend for her to keep flying for fifty more."
"Aye Captain," replied the warforged as the Capain left the bridge for a walk in the rain.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Josefer Martin - Growing up Super - Chapter 4
I shook the old memories from my mind. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. That would come at the debriefing. It was about thirty seconds before the end of class, and I had just enough time to stash my books, notebook opened to a blank page, and textbook worn almost to the point of falling apart, into my backpack.
Since I was at the back of the class, I was the last in line to leave the classroom, though I had much more left in my day then the rest of my classmates. Even though the live feed was cut off when we entered the vault, there was still the recording from Jessica's glasses to dissect during the debrief.
I was almost out the door when I turned and noticed Ms. Delarosa crouched over her keyboard, staring at the screen. "Ms. D, see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," she said, obviously distracted.
I walked a step closer to her, "Ms. D, you alright?"
She shook her head, "Yeah. Just trying to grok the algorithm you discussed in class."
I smiled, and strolled over to her desk, "I just made it up. I doubt it'll even work. That whole thing, from the 3D model to the basic program was just some smoke and mirrors. I made it up on the spot, whole-cloth, BS from start to finish."
"But," she began, a strained look in her eyes, "it wasn't BS. It worked, at least, the two-dimensional treesort did."
"Really?" I asked, pulling a chair from around her desk.
"Really," she said. She then smiled and pointed to a chunk of code on her screen, "See this. I had to finagle it a bit, but I got it to work."
I plopped myself down in the chair, forgetting even the backpack on my back, and began to look over the code. She had taken a basic idea that had come out of nowhere and built it into a coherent program. Sure it didn't do much, but that's because it was just a test.
I pointed to a line of code, and she described what it did. We began to work with the code, solidifying it as it was, then bringing it further, and further, until, just on the cusp of creating an n-dimensional treesort, we were rudely interrupted.
"Josefer Martin to the office, please," the intercom buzzed. I could hear it from the hall as well, which meant that instead of the usual room-only call I had come to expect since my Freshman year, they had gone with a broadcast throughout the school.
"Sorry," I hastily apologized, jumping out of the chair towards the door, "maybe we can finish it tomorrow?"
"Yeah" she said despondently as I ran down the hall towards the main office.
Since it wasn't a briefing I ran past Ms. Studney's office and waved to the secretary as I opened and then jumped inside of a supply closet. It began to descend as soon as the door closed. It did so slowly, incidental music from last summer's super hero blockbuster playing softly in the background. I chuckled to myself as I was slowly lowered the three levels to the training complex beneath the school, thinking back to the first time I had to take the secondary elevator, a week before the start of my Freshman year.
Jessica and I were scheduled for a tour of the facilities, but because of traffic the bus I had relied upon to get me to the school had arrived late. So, after a hastened and confusing conversation with the secretary, I had entered the supply closet elevator and made my way down to join the tour, already in progress.
As luck would have it, I arrived just as Matt, a senior and the new leader of the Garder Fox Senior High team, was belatedly begun the tour without me.
"As with Parker Junior High, Fox Senior High was built with supers, and our training, in mind. Unlike Parker, we've got a fully-featured facility equipped to handle eight supers as well as our various instructors and support staff. We've got a martial arts training room, a battle simulation room, a debriefing room, and even our own gymnasium."
I came up behind Jessica and assaulted her with a hug. She, of course, expected it, but Matt was surprised.
"Ah, Mr. Martin," he began.
"Joe," I interrupted to correct him.
"Joe then, how nice of you to finally join us."
"My pleasure. The traffic was horrendous."
"Your girlfriend got here on time," he commented.
"But," I countered, "she didn't have to take the bus, now did she?"
"No," she chimed in, "she didn't. Instead, she ran here, and arrived five minutes early."
"Enough," he exclaimed. "We don't have time for excuses. You're here, and so I won't have to do this a second time." He then turned and walked down the hall. It looked like the halls three stories up, only without the lockers.
"As I was saying, Gardner Fox Senior High was built with supers in mind."
I shook my head as the elevator stopped. "Why" I said to myself as I ran through the well-lit halls, "do I keep thinking back to past?"
"Maybe," said an oddly familar voice from out of nowhere. I stopped, but it continued, "because those that don't remember their past are doomed to repeat it."
I frantically looked around, but could not find the source of the voice, nor could I place it's familiarity. I shook it off, and continued to the debriefing room. I stopped right before the door and caught my breath, then casually opened it.
"Ah," came that same familiar voice form inside the room. I continued in. They were replaying old mission tapes on the main screen. Underneath the image was the name of the person wearing the camera. It was then that I placed the voice I had heard to a name, the same name that was on the screen, Mike. He continued to speak on the tape, "So nice of you to finally join us."
Since I was at the back of the class, I was the last in line to leave the classroom, though I had much more left in my day then the rest of my classmates. Even though the live feed was cut off when we entered the vault, there was still the recording from Jessica's glasses to dissect during the debrief.
I was almost out the door when I turned and noticed Ms. Delarosa crouched over her keyboard, staring at the screen. "Ms. D, see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," she said, obviously distracted.
I walked a step closer to her, "Ms. D, you alright?"
She shook her head, "Yeah. Just trying to grok the algorithm you discussed in class."
I smiled, and strolled over to her desk, "I just made it up. I doubt it'll even work. That whole thing, from the 3D model to the basic program was just some smoke and mirrors. I made it up on the spot, whole-cloth, BS from start to finish."
"But," she began, a strained look in her eyes, "it wasn't BS. It worked, at least, the two-dimensional treesort did."
"Really?" I asked, pulling a chair from around her desk.
"Really," she said. She then smiled and pointed to a chunk of code on her screen, "See this. I had to finagle it a bit, but I got it to work."
I plopped myself down in the chair, forgetting even the backpack on my back, and began to look over the code. She had taken a basic idea that had come out of nowhere and built it into a coherent program. Sure it didn't do much, but that's because it was just a test.
I pointed to a line of code, and she described what it did. We began to work with the code, solidifying it as it was, then bringing it further, and further, until, just on the cusp of creating an n-dimensional treesort, we were rudely interrupted.
"Josefer Martin to the office, please," the intercom buzzed. I could hear it from the hall as well, which meant that instead of the usual room-only call I had come to expect since my Freshman year, they had gone with a broadcast throughout the school.
"Sorry," I hastily apologized, jumping out of the chair towards the door, "maybe we can finish it tomorrow?"
"Yeah" she said despondently as I ran down the hall towards the main office.
Since it wasn't a briefing I ran past Ms. Studney's office and waved to the secretary as I opened and then jumped inside of a supply closet. It began to descend as soon as the door closed. It did so slowly, incidental music from last summer's super hero blockbuster playing softly in the background. I chuckled to myself as I was slowly lowered the three levels to the training complex beneath the school, thinking back to the first time I had to take the secondary elevator, a week before the start of my Freshman year.
Jessica and I were scheduled for a tour of the facilities, but because of traffic the bus I had relied upon to get me to the school had arrived late. So, after a hastened and confusing conversation with the secretary, I had entered the supply closet elevator and made my way down to join the tour, already in progress.
As luck would have it, I arrived just as Matt, a senior and the new leader of the Garder Fox Senior High team, was belatedly begun the tour without me.
"As with Parker Junior High, Fox Senior High was built with supers, and our training, in mind. Unlike Parker, we've got a fully-featured facility equipped to handle eight supers as well as our various instructors and support staff. We've got a martial arts training room, a battle simulation room, a debriefing room, and even our own gymnasium."
I came up behind Jessica and assaulted her with a hug. She, of course, expected it, but Matt was surprised.
"Ah, Mr. Martin," he began.
"Joe," I interrupted to correct him.
"Joe then, how nice of you to finally join us."
"My pleasure. The traffic was horrendous."
"Your girlfriend got here on time," he commented.
"But," I countered, "she didn't have to take the bus, now did she?"
"No," she chimed in, "she didn't. Instead, she ran here, and arrived five minutes early."
"Enough," he exclaimed. "We don't have time for excuses. You're here, and so I won't have to do this a second time." He then turned and walked down the hall. It looked like the halls three stories up, only without the lockers.
"As I was saying, Gardner Fox Senior High was built with supers in mind."
I shook my head as the elevator stopped. "Why" I said to myself as I ran through the well-lit halls, "do I keep thinking back to past?"
"Maybe," said an oddly familar voice from out of nowhere. I stopped, but it continued, "because those that don't remember their past are doomed to repeat it."
I frantically looked around, but could not find the source of the voice, nor could I place it's familiarity. I shook it off, and continued to the debriefing room. I stopped right before the door and caught my breath, then casually opened it.
"Ah," came that same familiar voice form inside the room. I continued in. They were replaying old mission tapes on the main screen. Underneath the image was the name of the person wearing the camera. It was then that I placed the voice I had heard to a name, the same name that was on the screen, Mike. He continued to speak on the tape, "So nice of you to finally join us."
Josefer Martin - Growing up Super - Chapter 3
It would be another week before my change in status came into effect. During the school year Mike and Zelda had been called down to the office probably ten times, and since the new year, Jessica had joined them about three times. Now it was my turn to find out what was going on, since they had never told me.
"Would Michael Schultz, Zelda Moonfire, Jessica Martinez, and Josefer Martin please report to the office please," came the voice of the school secretary over the intercom.
Jessica and I were in our math class, and the teacher, Mr. Zelman, nodded to the two of us, "It's almost the end of class, so you two better take your bags with you."
I got up, knowing what to do only because Jessica had done it before and following her lead. I shoved my textbook and my notebook into my backpack and followed Jessica out of the classroom.
"So," I asked as we walked down the hall, "what's next?"
"You'll see," was all she said. We got to the office about the same time as Mike and Zelda, who were just coming down the stairs from the second floor.
"Joe," commented Mike, "I see you're finally ready to join the big leagues. At least, as big as we get here at William H. Parker Junior High."
Before I could even reply, the principal, Mr. Hernandez, stuck his head out of the office, "Come on in you four, we've got about a minute to go."
"A minute to go for what?" I asked, but nobody said anything. Instead, we all followed Mr. Hernandez to his office at the back of the school's office, Zelda and Jessica getting personal greetings from the secretary.
Once we were all in his office, Mr. Hernandez closed the door and locked it, "Now, Josefer."
"Call me Joe," I interrupted.
"Joe then. Joe, since you're new to this, I'll explain as I get my office ready." He walked around his desk and pulled the blinds closed as Mike, Zelda, and Jessica all got seated comfortably in the seats, leaving one left for me. "As young supers you have great power, but you don't know how to properly use it to defend use normals in the world. That's what this program is for."
He sat down at his desk and motioned for me to do the same. He then pressed a button and four of the pieces of art arranged on his wall faded away and were replaced by screens that showed a live camera feed from inside a helicopter.
"There are the Juniors and Seniors over at Gardner Fox Senior High. Today they've been called out to help defuse a hostage situation downtown." He then pressed a button and the audio kicked in.
"Control this is Bob."
"Reading you load and clear."
"Control, we're going live."
"Roger."
"Okay guys," said Bob, the leader of the mission. "We're doing this by the book. Erin, you're on assault. Jake, damage control. Sue, keep those hostages safe."
"Roger," came the chorus from the others in the helicopter.
"Okay, we'll port in a floor below them, on the 17th. Erin, Jake, you take the stairs. Sue, I'll get you as close as I can once they make their presence know, okay?"
"Yeah Bob, we got it," said an annoyed male, whom I assumed was Jake.
"Jake, we can do this without you, if you'd rather not."
"No, just, well, we've done this a million times in simulation."
"Yeah, and this is the real world. You'll be lead next year Jake, you can make the calls then. We're doing it this way."
"Roger," replied Jake with distain.
"On three. One. Two. Three."
The screens all whited out and then shifted to show the interior of an office building. The views all panned around.
"Clear," came the voice of one of the girls.
"Clear," said the other.
"Clear," said Bob.
"Clear," added Jake with annoyance.
"Okay, let's do this."
Two of the views nodded and started to go away from the other two, Jake and Erin going for the stairs. They got there and cautiously climbed to the eighteenth floor.
"Now," said Mr. Hernandez, "As you can see, both Jake and Bob are alphas, but with different outlooks on mission execution. This isn't uncommon, but we'd rather not see it, that's why we try to get you working together even now."
"Bob," came the second female voice, now confirmed as Erin, "we're in position."
"Roger, on three. One. Two. Three."
The two in the stairs charged through the door and chaos fell upon the cubicles. Bolts of energy, the color I couldn't tell from the back and white views, shot out from Erin's hands and connected with assailants. There were five of them, and within seconds, four of them were down, but one of them had ducked in time and was now retreating.
"We've got a runner. Coming your way," shouted Erin as she followed the last hostile.
"Damage contained," droned an annoyed Jake. His view had shown little except a few blocked bullets and bolts of energy, but luckily, no damage either.
"We've secured the hostages," said Sue.
"Erin, Jake, stop him!" shouted Bob as the hostile showed up on his screen. A shot was fired, and was stopped by either Jake or Sue's efforts, or both, before it could reach him. He charged, as did Erin from behind, and the resulting grapple was hard to understand from without or within.
Ten seconds later, a tired Bob called back over the radio, "Control. We're going to need a pickup. Hostiles contained, and subdued."
"Roger Bob, we'll meet you on the roof. Good job."
"Okay guys, let's blow this joint."
The screens went white again and then showed views from the top of the building as a black unmarked helicopter without doors came down for a landing.
The views then faded to black, and then back to the artwork that previously occupied their frames.
"Now," said Mr. Hernandez, "this was a successful mission, as most of them are. I'll need all of you to write a report on the team's effectiveness in containing the situation, as well as recommendations as to what you would have done."
"Okay," I replied, as I grabbed my backpack.
"No," said Mr. Hernandez, "now Mr. Martin, at least, you need to start it now. There's a minimum of fifteen minutes we can remove you from classes, and you've only been here for four."
I looked to see Jessica, Mike, and Zelda all frantically scribbling on paper, trying to get down notes and comments from what they had just watched.
I sat back down and got out my paper, "Is it always going to be like this?"
"No," said Mike, smiling. "Sometimes, we get to help."
"Would Michael Schultz, Zelda Moonfire, Jessica Martinez, and Josefer Martin please report to the office please," came the voice of the school secretary over the intercom.
Jessica and I were in our math class, and the teacher, Mr. Zelman, nodded to the two of us, "It's almost the end of class, so you two better take your bags with you."
I got up, knowing what to do only because Jessica had done it before and following her lead. I shoved my textbook and my notebook into my backpack and followed Jessica out of the classroom.
"So," I asked as we walked down the hall, "what's next?"
"You'll see," was all she said. We got to the office about the same time as Mike and Zelda, who were just coming down the stairs from the second floor.
"Joe," commented Mike, "I see you're finally ready to join the big leagues. At least, as big as we get here at William H. Parker Junior High."
Before I could even reply, the principal, Mr. Hernandez, stuck his head out of the office, "Come on in you four, we've got about a minute to go."
"A minute to go for what?" I asked, but nobody said anything. Instead, we all followed Mr. Hernandez to his office at the back of the school's office, Zelda and Jessica getting personal greetings from the secretary.
Once we were all in his office, Mr. Hernandez closed the door and locked it, "Now, Josefer."
"Call me Joe," I interrupted.
"Joe then. Joe, since you're new to this, I'll explain as I get my office ready." He walked around his desk and pulled the blinds closed as Mike, Zelda, and Jessica all got seated comfortably in the seats, leaving one left for me. "As young supers you have great power, but you don't know how to properly use it to defend use normals in the world. That's what this program is for."
He sat down at his desk and motioned for me to do the same. He then pressed a button and four of the pieces of art arranged on his wall faded away and were replaced by screens that showed a live camera feed from inside a helicopter.
"There are the Juniors and Seniors over at Gardner Fox Senior High. Today they've been called out to help defuse a hostage situation downtown." He then pressed a button and the audio kicked in.
"Control this is Bob."
"Reading you load and clear."
"Control, we're going live."
"Roger."
"Okay guys," said Bob, the leader of the mission. "We're doing this by the book. Erin, you're on assault. Jake, damage control. Sue, keep those hostages safe."
"Roger," came the chorus from the others in the helicopter.
"Okay, we'll port in a floor below them, on the 17th. Erin, Jake, you take the stairs. Sue, I'll get you as close as I can once they make their presence know, okay?"
"Yeah Bob, we got it," said an annoyed male, whom I assumed was Jake.
"Jake, we can do this without you, if you'd rather not."
"No, just, well, we've done this a million times in simulation."
"Yeah, and this is the real world. You'll be lead next year Jake, you can make the calls then. We're doing it this way."
"Roger," replied Jake with distain.
"On three. One. Two. Three."
The screens all whited out and then shifted to show the interior of an office building. The views all panned around.
"Clear," came the voice of one of the girls.
"Clear," said the other.
"Clear," said Bob.
"Clear," added Jake with annoyance.
"Okay, let's do this."
Two of the views nodded and started to go away from the other two, Jake and Erin going for the stairs. They got there and cautiously climbed to the eighteenth floor.
"Now," said Mr. Hernandez, "As you can see, both Jake and Bob are alphas, but with different outlooks on mission execution. This isn't uncommon, but we'd rather not see it, that's why we try to get you working together even now."
"Bob," came the second female voice, now confirmed as Erin, "we're in position."
"Roger, on three. One. Two. Three."
The two in the stairs charged through the door and chaos fell upon the cubicles. Bolts of energy, the color I couldn't tell from the back and white views, shot out from Erin's hands and connected with assailants. There were five of them, and within seconds, four of them were down, but one of them had ducked in time and was now retreating.
"We've got a runner. Coming your way," shouted Erin as she followed the last hostile.
"Damage contained," droned an annoyed Jake. His view had shown little except a few blocked bullets and bolts of energy, but luckily, no damage either.
"We've secured the hostages," said Sue.
"Erin, Jake, stop him!" shouted Bob as the hostile showed up on his screen. A shot was fired, and was stopped by either Jake or Sue's efforts, or both, before it could reach him. He charged, as did Erin from behind, and the resulting grapple was hard to understand from without or within.
Ten seconds later, a tired Bob called back over the radio, "Control. We're going to need a pickup. Hostiles contained, and subdued."
"Roger Bob, we'll meet you on the roof. Good job."
"Okay guys, let's blow this joint."
The screens went white again and then showed views from the top of the building as a black unmarked helicopter without doors came down for a landing.
The views then faded to black, and then back to the artwork that previously occupied their frames.
"Now," said Mr. Hernandez, "this was a successful mission, as most of them are. I'll need all of you to write a report on the team's effectiveness in containing the situation, as well as recommendations as to what you would have done."
"Okay," I replied, as I grabbed my backpack.
"No," said Mr. Hernandez, "now Mr. Martin, at least, you need to start it now. There's a minimum of fifteen minutes we can remove you from classes, and you've only been here for four."
I looked to see Jessica, Mike, and Zelda all frantically scribbling on paper, trying to get down notes and comments from what they had just watched.
I sat back down and got out my paper, "Is it always going to be like this?"
"No," said Mike, smiling. "Sometimes, we get to help."
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Josefer Martin - Growing up Super - Chapter 2
"Mr. Martin."
"Mr. Martin?"
"Mr. Martin!"
"Oh," I shook my head, trying to clear my mind and get back to the task at head. "Um, yeah Ms. Delarosa?"
"If you have been paying attention Mr. Martin, you would have known what I had asked you, but since you seem incapable of doing so, I'll repeat myself," scolded my quite upset Computer Programming teacher. "How would you write a sort to organize this data," and she indicated a table she had written on the white board which had about twenty-five entries, "by a user selectable parameter?"
I bit my lip, "Let me think." I knew it would come to me, it just would take a while. "Ah," I exclaimed. I then spouted off the code for a quick treesort that branched off in a four dimensional structure. I had seen a two dimensional version of it in practice final.
"Um," stammered Ms. Delarosa, "could you come up here and make a diagram so your classmates, and I, can understand?"
I smiled, "No, I can't."
She looked angry, again, "And why can't you?"
"Simple" I said, leaning back in my chair, "it's a four-dimensional sort, which means that to illustrate it, we'd have to live in a universe with at least five spacial dimensions. We've got three. Thought, I can illustrate a two-dimensional version, if you'd like."
"Sure," she said, unsure of what she'd gotten herself into.
I quickly walked up to the front and opened up a text editor, "First, I've got to write it out." I typed the code for a rudimentary 3-D model of three generations of the two-dimensional tree sort, and then rendered it. "As you can see," I explained, "while it's more complex to visualize then a more simple nested treesort, or any other kind of nested sort, it takes about thirty percent less time. On a list of two dozen items, it's not a difference, and you could get away with the nested sorts, but once you get into the thousands, or even millions, say if you're trying to determine the password within a set length, it's use become much more apparent."
Ms. Delarosa became shocked, not knowing what to say, "Um, well, thank you Mr. Martin, you can sit down now."
With a smile on my face, I walked back to my seat, and sat back down. I wasn't sure if what I had said actually would have worked, but that wasn't the point. It got Ms. Delarosa off my back, and she wouldn't know how to check to see if it worked.
I leaned back in my chair, content that I wouldn't be bothered until the class was over.
I thought back to the day my intuition kicked in. It was March of my seventh grade year, Jessica's acrobatics had kicked in just before Christmas, but I wasn't worried, since guys usually develop after girls. I was practicing my gadgets after school, putting together random pieces of electronics and mechanics until I got something that worked. I had been working on my goggles, the ones that Mike had stolen earlier today, but then they were just beginning to be special.
"Let's see," I had said, "the LED goes here." I soldered down an LED, hoping that it'd be a light source for the HUD. Then, as Mike had said seven months earlier, it just kicked in, and I figured out the exact nature of the circuit. At first I thought that, like some people, my secondary power was an enhancement of my primary power. i was overjoyed, but then, as I thought about it, I figured out it could have been like Mike's power, hyper intelligence.
"Hey, Mike," I said, looking over the pile of books he had in front of him, "I think my secondary power's manifested."
He put down the Calculus book he was studying, "So, what you got?"
"Not sure," I said, "maybe a boost to my gadgets, maybe hyper int like you."
"Well," he said, standing, "there's a test we can do."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he grabbed a book of puzzles out of his backpack, "these are pretty easy for me, let's see how you do." He tossed it to me, and I caught it.
"Let's see here," I opened it up. They were sudoku puzzles. I grabbed a pencil out of my pocket, and started. At first, it wasn't any faster then I usually did, but then, I went faster, each new answer hastening the next. I finished the puzzle in two minutes, flipped the page, and started the next one. This one took my a minute, then the next one took my a bit less, but only because I had to extend the lead twice since it broke. After the tenth Mike spoke up.
"Joe, wait, stop," she pleaded.
"What?" I said, finishing the eleventh.
"Joe, you're not hyper int, or else there wouldn't have been a learning curve. I think you're an intuit."
"Intuit?"
"Think Sherlock Holmes, only quicker and without the deerstalker hat," he began, "but we'll have to talk with the principal to set up a test. I'm thinking at least a grade three, perhaps higher."
I smiled, "A grade three, that'd be great."
"But hey, you're still only an intuit. I'm still smarter then you."
"Thanks, you're a real uplifting guy."
"Hey, just telling it like it is."
"Mr. Martin?"
"Mr. Martin!"
"Oh," I shook my head, trying to clear my mind and get back to the task at head. "Um, yeah Ms. Delarosa?"
"If you have been paying attention Mr. Martin, you would have known what I had asked you, but since you seem incapable of doing so, I'll repeat myself," scolded my quite upset Computer Programming teacher. "How would you write a sort to organize this data," and she indicated a table she had written on the white board which had about twenty-five entries, "by a user selectable parameter?"
I bit my lip, "Let me think." I knew it would come to me, it just would take a while. "Ah," I exclaimed. I then spouted off the code for a quick treesort that branched off in a four dimensional structure. I had seen a two dimensional version of it in practice final.
"Um," stammered Ms. Delarosa, "could you come up here and make a diagram so your classmates, and I, can understand?"
I smiled, "No, I can't."
She looked angry, again, "And why can't you?"
"Simple" I said, leaning back in my chair, "it's a four-dimensional sort, which means that to illustrate it, we'd have to live in a universe with at least five spacial dimensions. We've got three. Thought, I can illustrate a two-dimensional version, if you'd like."
"Sure," she said, unsure of what she'd gotten herself into.
I quickly walked up to the front and opened up a text editor, "First, I've got to write it out." I typed the code for a rudimentary 3-D model of three generations of the two-dimensional tree sort, and then rendered it. "As you can see," I explained, "while it's more complex to visualize then a more simple nested treesort, or any other kind of nested sort, it takes about thirty percent less time. On a list of two dozen items, it's not a difference, and you could get away with the nested sorts, but once you get into the thousands, or even millions, say if you're trying to determine the password within a set length, it's use become much more apparent."
Ms. Delarosa became shocked, not knowing what to say, "Um, well, thank you Mr. Martin, you can sit down now."
With a smile on my face, I walked back to my seat, and sat back down. I wasn't sure if what I had said actually would have worked, but that wasn't the point. It got Ms. Delarosa off my back, and she wouldn't know how to check to see if it worked.
I leaned back in my chair, content that I wouldn't be bothered until the class was over.
I thought back to the day my intuition kicked in. It was March of my seventh grade year, Jessica's acrobatics had kicked in just before Christmas, but I wasn't worried, since guys usually develop after girls. I was practicing my gadgets after school, putting together random pieces of electronics and mechanics until I got something that worked. I had been working on my goggles, the ones that Mike had stolen earlier today, but then they were just beginning to be special.
"Let's see," I had said, "the LED goes here." I soldered down an LED, hoping that it'd be a light source for the HUD. Then, as Mike had said seven months earlier, it just kicked in, and I figured out the exact nature of the circuit. At first I thought that, like some people, my secondary power was an enhancement of my primary power. i was overjoyed, but then, as I thought about it, I figured out it could have been like Mike's power, hyper intelligence.
"Hey, Mike," I said, looking over the pile of books he had in front of him, "I think my secondary power's manifested."
He put down the Calculus book he was studying, "So, what you got?"
"Not sure," I said, "maybe a boost to my gadgets, maybe hyper int like you."
"Well," he said, standing, "there's a test we can do."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he grabbed a book of puzzles out of his backpack, "these are pretty easy for me, let's see how you do." He tossed it to me, and I caught it.
"Let's see here," I opened it up. They were sudoku puzzles. I grabbed a pencil out of my pocket, and started. At first, it wasn't any faster then I usually did, but then, I went faster, each new answer hastening the next. I finished the puzzle in two minutes, flipped the page, and started the next one. This one took my a minute, then the next one took my a bit less, but only because I had to extend the lead twice since it broke. After the tenth Mike spoke up.
"Joe, wait, stop," she pleaded.
"What?" I said, finishing the eleventh.
"Joe, you're not hyper int, or else there wouldn't have been a learning curve. I think you're an intuit."
"Intuit?"
"Think Sherlock Holmes, only quicker and without the deerstalker hat," he began, "but we'll have to talk with the principal to set up a test. I'm thinking at least a grade three, perhaps higher."
I smiled, "A grade three, that'd be great."
"But hey, you're still only an intuit. I'm still smarter then you."
"Thanks, you're a real uplifting guy."
"Hey, just telling it like it is."
OTR: Shut Up, Go Shopping, Support the War...and Nobody Gets Hurt!
From thousandreasons.org. Ana excellent editorial about the the War, Bush, and the Tyranny the combination has wrought.
read more | digg story
read more | digg story
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Josefer Martin - Growing up Super - Chapter 1
As I sat in the back of my seventh period computer programming class, one of my easiest classes, but still my favorite, I thought back over the day's events. Less then an hour before I had been held at gunpoint by a man I once called my best friend, who then robbed me of my most prized possession, and ran off both my new worst enemy and a multi-millionaire.
I then thought back further, back to the first time I met Mike and Zelda. It was the August of seventh grade, a week before classes were to begin. Jessica and I, at that time just beginning our partnership, and still getting the feeling of our eventual relationship, had been invited by the administration to tour our new school, William H. Parker Junior High School.
When we arrived at nine in the morning, having been dropped off separately by our parents, we weren't sure what to do. The parking lot was almost empty, but after walking up to the doors, we realized that the front doors were open. In retrospect, it's logical, since we were supposed to be there, but when you're twelve years old, the logic circuits aren't quite working at full capacity.
Jessica led the way, since she could sense the two people waiting for us in the lobby. I followed close behind, not really knowing what to expect. The two people waiting were just a bit older then us, actually a year or so, but otherwise looked entirely normal.
"You two must be Jessica, and Joseph," said the boy, "I'm Mike, and this is Zelda."
"Actually," I spoke up, "It's Josefer, but you can call me Joe."
"My bad," said Mike with a smile, "well, no matter, we'll get it all sorted out later. In the meantime, we're here to show you around Parker Junior High. Zelda here will show Jessica around, and I'll show Joe around."
"Yeah, sounds good," I admitted. He exuded confidence, and had definite charisma.
He took me by the shoulder and we walked down the main hall, the girls started up the stairs to look around the second floor. "Joe," he said, "I can call you Joe, right?"
"Yeah Mike," I confirmed, still unsure of what the proper response should have been.
"Joe, I remember what it was like when I was in your position. Still unsure of what to do, what not to do, and how to act around norms and supes. Well, I can't tell you how to act around norms, since that's for tomorrow, but the rest I can teach you, and so much more."
As we walked around the school, he showed me the various classrooms and offices, as well as the hidden places that the norms didn't know about. He talked about what I'd expect of both my school hours, and my extracurricular activities. He explained how we'd be taught the bits of history left out of the norms' educations, plus the extensive civics and martial arts instructions we'd receive.
He also talked about how the supe program worked. Before that day, I'd hadn't known much. Just what they'd told us at the Orientation Camp in July, and what I'd gleaned from the internet, some of which Mike was contradicting. He explained about the two stage power process, about how a supe would be born with one power, one they knew how to control from birth, but then, once they reached puberty, they'd gain a second, more powerful power.
He then bragged about how his second power had manifested in the middle of his math class, about how one moment he'd had to figure out the answer, and the next it just came to him. He then explained how he'd cheated by hacking into the school's computer system and changed all his classmates' grades to make himself look as smart as he knew, or at least thought, he was, at least by comparison.
That should have been my first clue as you what kind of man Mike would turn out to be, but then I wasn't an intuit, just a gadgeteer. By the time the day was up, and my parents had arrived to take me home, I had learned a whole lot about the world that most norms never did. I had also gotten my first glimpse as my future best friend, and worst enemy.
I then thought back further, back to the first time I met Mike and Zelda. It was the August of seventh grade, a week before classes were to begin. Jessica and I, at that time just beginning our partnership, and still getting the feeling of our eventual relationship, had been invited by the administration to tour our new school, William H. Parker Junior High School.
When we arrived at nine in the morning, having been dropped off separately by our parents, we weren't sure what to do. The parking lot was almost empty, but after walking up to the doors, we realized that the front doors were open. In retrospect, it's logical, since we were supposed to be there, but when you're twelve years old, the logic circuits aren't quite working at full capacity.
Jessica led the way, since she could sense the two people waiting for us in the lobby. I followed close behind, not really knowing what to expect. The two people waiting were just a bit older then us, actually a year or so, but otherwise looked entirely normal.
"You two must be Jessica, and Joseph," said the boy, "I'm Mike, and this is Zelda."
"Actually," I spoke up, "It's Josefer, but you can call me Joe."
"My bad," said Mike with a smile, "well, no matter, we'll get it all sorted out later. In the meantime, we're here to show you around Parker Junior High. Zelda here will show Jessica around, and I'll show Joe around."
"Yeah, sounds good," I admitted. He exuded confidence, and had definite charisma.
He took me by the shoulder and we walked down the main hall, the girls started up the stairs to look around the second floor. "Joe," he said, "I can call you Joe, right?"
"Yeah Mike," I confirmed, still unsure of what the proper response should have been.
"Joe, I remember what it was like when I was in your position. Still unsure of what to do, what not to do, and how to act around norms and supes. Well, I can't tell you how to act around norms, since that's for tomorrow, but the rest I can teach you, and so much more."
As we walked around the school, he showed me the various classrooms and offices, as well as the hidden places that the norms didn't know about. He talked about what I'd expect of both my school hours, and my extracurricular activities. He explained how we'd be taught the bits of history left out of the norms' educations, plus the extensive civics and martial arts instructions we'd receive.
He also talked about how the supe program worked. Before that day, I'd hadn't known much. Just what they'd told us at the Orientation Camp in July, and what I'd gleaned from the internet, some of which Mike was contradicting. He explained about the two stage power process, about how a supe would be born with one power, one they knew how to control from birth, but then, once they reached puberty, they'd gain a second, more powerful power.
He then bragged about how his second power had manifested in the middle of his math class, about how one moment he'd had to figure out the answer, and the next it just came to him. He then explained how he'd cheated by hacking into the school's computer system and changed all his classmates' grades to make himself look as smart as he knew, or at least thought, he was, at least by comparison.
That should have been my first clue as you what kind of man Mike would turn out to be, but then I wasn't an intuit, just a gadgeteer. By the time the day was up, and my parents had arrived to take me home, I had learned a whole lot about the world that most norms never did. I had also gotten my first glimpse as my future best friend, and worst enemy.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Josefer Martin - A Day in the Life - Chapter 4
"…ome in. I repeat. Joe, Jess, this is Control, Come in." came the panicked voice over the radio.
"Control, this is Joe, we're here," I replied. He looked over to Jessica, and then at the vault around us, empty as it was.
"Joe, what happened?"
"Control, we have a problem. Mission failed."
"What do you mean failed," interrupted James over the radio, "Mel and I trounced those robbers like two minutes ago. Heck, we'd be out of here by now if you two hadn't been incommunicado."
"Jay," I said, my voice strained, I wasn't mad at him, but at myself, "The vault is empty. It was cleared out about thirty seconds ago. Poof, gone, and I didn't have time to trace it."
"What? But, you've been in there for three minutes, are you telling me you let them escape?"
"No," interjected Jessica, "He's saying we couldn't do anything about it. They'd already collected everything by the time we got here. If they had wanted to, we wouldn't have known until they checked the vault after we were gone."
"It was a trap," I added, "and a damn good one."
"Joe," commanded Control, "are you two ready for an evac?"
I looked over to Jessica, she nodded. "Yes Control. What's the location?"
"The roof, Jay and Mel are up here already."
"Roger, we'll be up in minute."
"You've got thirty seconds."
I quickly removed my headset, and looked at Jessica, "You ready for a jump?"
She nodded, "Yeah." She then took a step and hugged me. I blinked, and we dropped thirty centimeters to the roof. I released the hug after a quick squeeze, and turned to face the waiting helicopter.
"You two lovebirds coming or not?" asked Jay over the roar of the rotors. I barely heard him, but the headset was still in my hand.
I looked at Jessica, then tipped my head towards the waiting chopper. She nodded and we jogged over to the open door, ducking low so that the down-wash wouldn't knock us over.
We got inside and strapped ourselves in.
Jay tapped his headset, so I got the hint and put mine back on.
"Control, we're secure," I said, as the helicopter lifted off the roof of the bank.
"So," asked Melissa, "anyone we know?"
"Yeah," replied Jessica, "Zelda and Mike."
"What," exclaimed James, "I thought they'd skipped town!"
"Probably did," I explained, quickly thinking over the situation, "got themselves some costumes, probably some handles, and definitely some mooks. They came back for a reason."
"Money?" asked Melissa.
"Well," I explained, "not exactly. Yeah, they got the money, but it was to gloat, and to tell Jess and I that they were back, and that they weren't playing nice."
"Well, I'm sure the Supes can capture them," offered Melissa.
"No," said Jessica confidently, "Mike's too smart for that. Heck, you know how hard it was to communicate through that vault. If Zelda can put up a protection zone that secure in an unfamiliar place, image how secure their lair would be."
"Yeah," I conformed, "plus, Mike's smarter then most of the Supes in the city. Combined with Zelda's spells, which are as potent as any Supe in state can muster, they'll be nearly unstoppable."
"Nearly," confirmed James, "but you got a plan, right?"
I smiled, "Oh, yeah, lots of them, but they'll never work." I paused, then continued, "You see, I don't know enough of the details. Mike made sure of it. He knows as much about my limitations as I do, maybe more. He knows that I need clues to deduce from. Even Sherlock Holmes would have trouble with this one. The security on the vault and Zelda's hold on Jess and I ran out almost ten seconds after they left. I need a teleport to be less then two seconds old before I can get a lock, Jessica, being a teleporter doesn't need that fresh a trail, but still, ten seconds was too old. We couldn't trace the teleport before the trail dissipated."
There was a pause, then Melissa chimed in, "But, they've got a weakness, right? The universe won't let someone get that much power with a weakness. It's a fundamental law."
"Yeah, and that's the one bright spot in all of this," I acknowledged. "Zelda's a spellcaster, which slows her down. Mike's got an ego the size of a small moon."
"So," asked James, "we'll get them, right?"
"Yeah," I said, but it lacked confidence. I looked out the window at the city passing below us, "we'll get them. He's got something of mine, and I intend to get it back."
"Control, this is Joe, we're here," I replied. He looked over to Jessica, and then at the vault around us, empty as it was.
"Joe, what happened?"
"Control, we have a problem. Mission failed."
"What do you mean failed," interrupted James over the radio, "Mel and I trounced those robbers like two minutes ago. Heck, we'd be out of here by now if you two hadn't been incommunicado."
"Jay," I said, my voice strained, I wasn't mad at him, but at myself, "The vault is empty. It was cleared out about thirty seconds ago. Poof, gone, and I didn't have time to trace it."
"What? But, you've been in there for three minutes, are you telling me you let them escape?"
"No," interjected Jessica, "He's saying we couldn't do anything about it. They'd already collected everything by the time we got here. If they had wanted to, we wouldn't have known until they checked the vault after we were gone."
"It was a trap," I added, "and a damn good one."
"Joe," commanded Control, "are you two ready for an evac?"
I looked over to Jessica, she nodded. "Yes Control. What's the location?"
"The roof, Jay and Mel are up here already."
"Roger, we'll be up in minute."
"You've got thirty seconds."
I quickly removed my headset, and looked at Jessica, "You ready for a jump?"
She nodded, "Yeah." She then took a step and hugged me. I blinked, and we dropped thirty centimeters to the roof. I released the hug after a quick squeeze, and turned to face the waiting helicopter.
"You two lovebirds coming or not?" asked Jay over the roar of the rotors. I barely heard him, but the headset was still in my hand.
I looked at Jessica, then tipped my head towards the waiting chopper. She nodded and we jogged over to the open door, ducking low so that the down-wash wouldn't knock us over.
We got inside and strapped ourselves in.
Jay tapped his headset, so I got the hint and put mine back on.
"Control, we're secure," I said, as the helicopter lifted off the roof of the bank.
"So," asked Melissa, "anyone we know?"
"Yeah," replied Jessica, "Zelda and Mike."
"What," exclaimed James, "I thought they'd skipped town!"
"Probably did," I explained, quickly thinking over the situation, "got themselves some costumes, probably some handles, and definitely some mooks. They came back for a reason."
"Money?" asked Melissa.
"Well," I explained, "not exactly. Yeah, they got the money, but it was to gloat, and to tell Jess and I that they were back, and that they weren't playing nice."
"Well, I'm sure the Supes can capture them," offered Melissa.
"No," said Jessica confidently, "Mike's too smart for that. Heck, you know how hard it was to communicate through that vault. If Zelda can put up a protection zone that secure in an unfamiliar place, image how secure their lair would be."
"Yeah," I conformed, "plus, Mike's smarter then most of the Supes in the city. Combined with Zelda's spells, which are as potent as any Supe in state can muster, they'll be nearly unstoppable."
"Nearly," confirmed James, "but you got a plan, right?"
I smiled, "Oh, yeah, lots of them, but they'll never work." I paused, then continued, "You see, I don't know enough of the details. Mike made sure of it. He knows as much about my limitations as I do, maybe more. He knows that I need clues to deduce from. Even Sherlock Holmes would have trouble with this one. The security on the vault and Zelda's hold on Jess and I ran out almost ten seconds after they left. I need a teleport to be less then two seconds old before I can get a lock, Jessica, being a teleporter doesn't need that fresh a trail, but still, ten seconds was too old. We couldn't trace the teleport before the trail dissipated."
There was a pause, then Melissa chimed in, "But, they've got a weakness, right? The universe won't let someone get that much power with a weakness. It's a fundamental law."
"Yeah, and that's the one bright spot in all of this," I acknowledged. "Zelda's a spellcaster, which slows her down. Mike's got an ego the size of a small moon."
"So," asked James, "we'll get them, right?"
"Yeah," I said, but it lacked confidence. I looked out the window at the city passing below us, "we'll get them. He's got something of mine, and I intend to get it back."
Monday, June 26, 2006
Josefer Martin - A Day in the Life - Chapter 3
"Control," I continued, but there was no answer.
"It's no use Joe," Mike noted.
"Control, this is Joe, come in Control."
"I told you, it's useless."
"Control, we have a problem, respond," I said, worried.
"Joe!" Mike shouted, I stopped and looked at him. His hair, which used to be dyed black last year, was now a bright red. He was angry. "Your radio can't get through these walls."
"But," I began., he interrupted.
"But Jessica could sense us, I know," he put way his gun, it's holster hidden under his suit jacket. The jacket, along with his tie, the shirt, his pants, and even his shoes, were all dyed in a flame pattern. Right now, his clothes matched his hair, a combination that probably hadn't happened since the last time he worn the black jumpsuit before he graduated. "That's because it's a trap. I set a trap, a simple bank robbery. Have the mooks hold up the joint, create a ruckus, while Zel and I snuck into the vault. Since there are only four of them, and there weren't any supers overtly involved, I knew they'd send you. You see, it was all a part of my plan."
He smiled. I didn't. He continued.
"This vault," he gestured around him, "is very secure, at least, now it is. A minute ago, it wasn't. When we got here I had Zel whip up a two stage spell. The first stage weakened the vault, making it as easy to sense thoughts through as a piece of paper. That was the bait. Now that you're here, it's a bit stronger then it normally is, stage two." He smiled, "Zel, tell our guests what you've done."
"Gladly," she sneered. "Well, originally, the vault was just protected by a two foot thick wall of lead, concrete, and a titanium mesh. Secure, but only against telepaths, and only up to a Grade Four. Now, it's been reinforced to be completely magic, thought, and radio impenetrable. So, even though Miss Grade Two here could sense in," and she gestured to Jessica, "now nothing can get in or out, except me of course."
"Good job Zel," said Mike with a smile. "So, with a new situation, there was only two options you had. Either stick to the plan, take care of the mooks with all four of you, but potentially let the real thieves go, or split up, the Brick and the Telekinetic taking care of the mooks, four on two, a good morale booster, and you two coming here to the vault via one of Jessie's teleports. I knew you'd go for the latter. You're so predictable, all you Intuits are. Give you a situation and ninety percent of the time, you'll all do the same thing. Having known you for as long as I have, plus a bit of pushing from Zel, and I got it up to a hundred percent."
"So," I interrupted, "now that you've got us, what do you want?"
"To gloat," he said confidently. "To prove that no matter how fast you plan, you're too short term. That I can still out-plan even you, a Grade Five Intuit, because I'm smarter."
"Revenge?" asked Jessica.
"No, that'll come later, just you wait. No, now that we've had this little chat, it's time to get moving," Mike countered.
"So, you're robbing banks now? That the best plan you could come up with, Mr. Flame?" I goaded him.
"Wait," interjected Jessica, "I thought it was the Human Zippo?"
"No," I said, a smile creeping across my face, "I know what it is. The Great Flambé."
"Stop!" shouted Mike. His hands were clenched in fists at his side, wreathed in flame. Zelda stopped snickering a half-second later. "Zel, silence them."
Zelda smiled, "My pleasure." Her hand left the grip of the pistol, which continued to float in mid-air, pointed at Jessica. She brought her hands together, palm to palm, in front of her, and her irises fading from blue to white, and her skirt billowing up to fly straight out from her hips. The color of her tank top, skirt, and knee-high boots faded to white as well. Then, a second after she began, she stopped, her eyes returning to blue with a blink, and her clothes to their former hot pink just as fast. She grabbed the pistol from out of the air.
I opened my mouth to speak, but found that I couldn't, which was expected from Zelda's actions.
"Now that I don't have to listen to the two of you yammer on, I'll continue," he preached, probably not realizing the irony of his words. "I came up with this trap for two reasons. First, to let you two know Zelda and I were back in town, and that we're on the rise. Second, well, if you're going to rob a bank," and he pauses to point at the small pile of black plastic crates in front of the vault door, "you might as well take it all."
He gestured around the room, "Two hundred safe deposit boxes, and the morning's cash deposits, plus the records from the last five years. I got it all, and you can't stop me." He walked over to the crates, and popped one open, "Two million dollars in bonds." He then opened another, "Fifty-thousand in small, unmarked, non-sequential, used bills. A kidnapper's dream come true." He then closed them both, and walked back over to Jessica and I, "Oh, and I'll also be taking this."
He reached up to my face and grabbed my goggles. I tried to move, tried to stop him, but I couldn't. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Zelda shake her finger at me, scolding me, "Not so fast Mr. Martin."
"Exactly," said Mike, pocketing my goggles. "Now, I've got your goggles, the set of goggles your father left you when he died. The goggles that you received a special dispensation to wear as part of your uniform, after you integrated advanced electronics of course. These little babies change this from just a botched attempt to stop a bank robber to something personal."
It did, and every person in the room knew it was true.
"So," started Zelda, "Now that all is said and done, it's time we take our leave." She turned, leaving the pistol pointed at Jessica, and strutted over to the crates. She turned on the ball of her foot, "In about," and she paused to look at her watch, "thirty seconds, the silence will wear off, as will my reinforcements on the vault. You'll probably have ten seconds to get some sort of trace on my teleport, which we all know neither of you can't do in under twelve, before the path corrodes too far to trace." Mike walked up next to her, and put his arm around her waist, bringing her close and kissing her on the cheek.
"So long, and thanks for the good time," Mike said sarcastically.
Zelda smiled and waved goodbye, as the pair and the crates disappeared in a puff of white smoke. Her final word still hanging in the air, "Toodles."
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Josefer Martin - A Day in the Life - Chapter 2
Five minutes after leaving Mr. Fornby's sixth period physics class I was preparing to jump out of a perfectly good helicopter. The four of us were leaning out of the open doors as Ms. Studney piloted. Next to me, wearing a skin-tight black jumpsuit, was Jessica. She looked at me through her sunglasses and smiled. I then looked behind me at James and Melissa. They too were wearing the black jumpsuits and sunglasses. I nodded to them, and then set my goggles down over my eyes. As the HUD popped up and focused, Ms. Studney began to speak over the radio, "Joe, you're lead on this one."
I took a deep breath, "Roger control." I then looked out below the helicopter, as it hovered 300 meters over the street below, "Three. Two. One. Jump!"
The four of us executed a precision exit from the helicopter, and began a quick descent. I focused on the altimeter reading on the HUD. "Three," I shouted over the wind, "Two. One. Stop."
Suddenly, two meters above the pavement of the alley, we stopped falling. I quickly executed a mid-air flip and landed on the asphalt. The other three followed suit, "Good jump. Mel, nice catch."
"Not sure we were going to make it," she replied.
"Would I let you down?" I asked, as I looked over the wall. I pressed a button on my belt and a hologram of the bank building popped up. I pointed to a section of wall a meter to the left, "Behind there's a storage room. We'll enter there."
Jessica looked at the four of us, "I'll have to make two trips."
"No time, Jay, if you would, a door?" I asked, as I walked to the wall opposite our future point of entry, "Mel, shield."
As James crushed through the wall, Mel projected a telekinetic field to protect us from the debris. Once inside the storage room, Jessica frowned.
"Control said four hostiles, right?" ash asked.
"Yeah, and a dozen or so hostages, what's the matter?" asked James, trying dust the concrete from his black jumpsuit, and failing miserably.
Jessica pointed at the still-floating hologram, and four figures popped up in red, "Well, there's four hostiles here." She then swept her hand back and forth and the room filled with the huddled forms of just over a dozen people, all green, "And thirteen hostages." She then left the lobby and pointed at the vault, where two more figures appeared, in blue, "Plus two unknown in the vault. They seem familiar, but I can't place them."
"Okay, change of plans," I said, taking command, "Jay, Mel, you take out the four up front, make sure none of the greens get hurt, and the red's are only out cold. Jess and I will take the vault in a port and pound."
"Roger," the replied, and we exited the storage room, Melissa and James taking a left, towards the front of the building, and Jessica and I went right, to get around to the vault.
Another two minutes, and we were in position, "Ready?"
"Ready," came the reply from Melissa a the front, just outside the lobby.
"Three," I began, grasping Jessica's hand, "Two. One. Go!"
Suddenly, Jessica and I were two meters forwards, inside the vault. Just as suddenly, I head the click-click of two guns being cocked.
"Hello Joe," came a voice from my left, a familiar voice.
"Jess, nice to see you again," came another from my right.
I sighed, seeing the faces behind the voices and the guns. On the left was Mike, a year older then me, and on the right was his girlfriend, and partner, Zelda. They had graduated at the top of their class last year, and then fell off the face of the Earth.
Mike smiled, and I radioed in quickly, "Control, we have a problem."
I took a deep breath, "Roger control." I then looked out below the helicopter, as it hovered 300 meters over the street below, "Three. Two. One. Jump!"
The four of us executed a precision exit from the helicopter, and began a quick descent. I focused on the altimeter reading on the HUD. "Three," I shouted over the wind, "Two. One. Stop."
Suddenly, two meters above the pavement of the alley, we stopped falling. I quickly executed a mid-air flip and landed on the asphalt. The other three followed suit, "Good jump. Mel, nice catch."
"Not sure we were going to make it," she replied.
"Would I let you down?" I asked, as I looked over the wall. I pressed a button on my belt and a hologram of the bank building popped up. I pointed to a section of wall a meter to the left, "Behind there's a storage room. We'll enter there."
Jessica looked at the four of us, "I'll have to make two trips."
"No time, Jay, if you would, a door?" I asked, as I walked to the wall opposite our future point of entry, "Mel, shield."
As James crushed through the wall, Mel projected a telekinetic field to protect us from the debris. Once inside the storage room, Jessica frowned.
"Control said four hostiles, right?" ash asked.
"Yeah, and a dozen or so hostages, what's the matter?" asked James, trying dust the concrete from his black jumpsuit, and failing miserably.
Jessica pointed at the still-floating hologram, and four figures popped up in red, "Well, there's four hostiles here." She then swept her hand back and forth and the room filled with the huddled forms of just over a dozen people, all green, "And thirteen hostages." She then left the lobby and pointed at the vault, where two more figures appeared, in blue, "Plus two unknown in the vault. They seem familiar, but I can't place them."
"Okay, change of plans," I said, taking command, "Jay, Mel, you take out the four up front, make sure none of the greens get hurt, and the red's are only out cold. Jess and I will take the vault in a port and pound."
"Roger," the replied, and we exited the storage room, Melissa and James taking a left, towards the front of the building, and Jessica and I went right, to get around to the vault.
Another two minutes, and we were in position, "Ready?"
"Ready," came the reply from Melissa a the front, just outside the lobby.
"Three," I began, grasping Jessica's hand, "Two. One. Go!"
Suddenly, Jessica and I were two meters forwards, inside the vault. Just as suddenly, I head the click-click of two guns being cocked.
"Hello Joe," came a voice from my left, a familiar voice.
"Jess, nice to see you again," came another from my right.
I sighed, seeing the faces behind the voices and the guns. On the left was Mike, a year older then me, and on the right was his girlfriend, and partner, Zelda. They had graduated at the top of their class last year, and then fell off the face of the Earth.
Mike smiled, and I radioed in quickly, "Control, we have a problem."
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Josefer Martin - A Day in the Life - Chapter 1
"Josefer to the office please," said the shrill voice over the classroom speaker.
Not again, I thought, as I began to quickly clean up my desk. I glanced up at Mr. Fornby, he looked mad. He was just in the middle of a lecture on using integrals to find the instantaneous velocity of the planets. This was the third time this week that I'd been called down to the office, and the second time during his Physics period.
"Is there a problem Mr. Martin?" he asked, trying to guild trip me into staying until the end of the period. He tried this last time, and the time before that, a month ago, and before that too. It never worked, but I guess what little ego he had as a high school teacher demanded that he at least try.
"I hope not, but you know the drill," I hastily explained as I hefted my backpack onto my left shoulder and began to walk to the front.
"It's a good thing you're acing all of your tests, Mr. Martin, or I'd have to have a talk with the principal about this," Mr. Fornby countered. He knew it was a lost cause. Ms. Studney, the principal, had explained to the teachers at the beginning of the year what was what, but they still didn't like their classes being interrupted.
"Hey, well, see you tomorrow, there's a test, right?" I asked as he reached the door to his classroom, turning to at least give him that courtesy.
"Yeah, tomorrow," he admitted with defeat. It's not like he could have won. Ms. Studney had to answer to the school board, and then the county after that. There's no way she'd let me, or Mr. Fornby, off the hook if I stayed. No, this was the way it had to be, and that way it had been since 7th grade.
I thought back on that last six years as I rushed down the hall, towards the office. I tried not to go too fast, but just fast enough to make up for lost time.
I had missed ten hours of school in 7th grade, including one day where it was four hours plus two hours after school. That was the first year I ever got straight A's. Eighth grade wasn't much different, that by then I was up to twenty hours a semester, and I missed the Junior High Spring Formal, not that my date was there either.
As I turned the corner from the Science hall to the Main hall, I thought back to my first year here, twenty-five hours a semester, and I even missed one full day. I also missed almost every single prep rally, so it's not exactly a big loss. Sophomore year was more of the same, except for an errant French teacher who decided that she'd penalize me for all my missed time. Last I heard she was working as a private tutor in Tokyo, harsh, but she broke the rules.
Last year, my Junior year, I missed fifty-three hours of school over both semesters. I even missed my junior prom. That sucked, but, such is life. Luckily, my girlfriend had understood since we got together in the summer before seventh grade, we'd been going steady ever since.
I finally made it to the office, and saw that Mr. Fornby had delayed me enough to make it here last. Already waiting with Ms. Studney was Jessica, my girlfriend, James, a large African-American who was a year behind me, could have player for the varsity football team, if he hadn't have missed the first game last year. Lastly, there was Melissa, James' girlfriend. They'd been steady since seventh grade as well.
"Good, now that Mr. Martin's here, we can get this over with," sneered Ms. Studney. He opened her office door, and followed us in. We sat down in the four seats in front of her desk as she walked around to face us.
"Now, to why I called you all here," she began, pressing a small button hidden under the edge of his desk. As she explained the situation, the room quickly descended three stories.
She finished just after the room stopped, adding a , "Good Luck," as we made our way out her office door. The room beyond looked like a locker room, and in a way it was, but it only had eight lockers, and there wasn't separate rooms for the girls and the guys. As Melissa and Jessica began to take off their clothes, I nodded my head at James.
Sometimes, being a teenage super hero has it perks.
Not again, I thought, as I began to quickly clean up my desk. I glanced up at Mr. Fornby, he looked mad. He was just in the middle of a lecture on using integrals to find the instantaneous velocity of the planets. This was the third time this week that I'd been called down to the office, and the second time during his Physics period.
"Is there a problem Mr. Martin?" he asked, trying to guild trip me into staying until the end of the period. He tried this last time, and the time before that, a month ago, and before that too. It never worked, but I guess what little ego he had as a high school teacher demanded that he at least try.
"I hope not, but you know the drill," I hastily explained as I hefted my backpack onto my left shoulder and began to walk to the front.
"It's a good thing you're acing all of your tests, Mr. Martin, or I'd have to have a talk with the principal about this," Mr. Fornby countered. He knew it was a lost cause. Ms. Studney, the principal, had explained to the teachers at the beginning of the year what was what, but they still didn't like their classes being interrupted.
"Hey, well, see you tomorrow, there's a test, right?" I asked as he reached the door to his classroom, turning to at least give him that courtesy.
"Yeah, tomorrow," he admitted with defeat. It's not like he could have won. Ms. Studney had to answer to the school board, and then the county after that. There's no way she'd let me, or Mr. Fornby, off the hook if I stayed. No, this was the way it had to be, and that way it had been since 7th grade.
I thought back on that last six years as I rushed down the hall, towards the office. I tried not to go too fast, but just fast enough to make up for lost time.
I had missed ten hours of school in 7th grade, including one day where it was four hours plus two hours after school. That was the first year I ever got straight A's. Eighth grade wasn't much different, that by then I was up to twenty hours a semester, and I missed the Junior High Spring Formal, not that my date was there either.
As I turned the corner from the Science hall to the Main hall, I thought back to my first year here, twenty-five hours a semester, and I even missed one full day. I also missed almost every single prep rally, so it's not exactly a big loss. Sophomore year was more of the same, except for an errant French teacher who decided that she'd penalize me for all my missed time. Last I heard she was working as a private tutor in Tokyo, harsh, but she broke the rules.
Last year, my Junior year, I missed fifty-three hours of school over both semesters. I even missed my junior prom. That sucked, but, such is life. Luckily, my girlfriend had understood since we got together in the summer before seventh grade, we'd been going steady ever since.
I finally made it to the office, and saw that Mr. Fornby had delayed me enough to make it here last. Already waiting with Ms. Studney was Jessica, my girlfriend, James, a large African-American who was a year behind me, could have player for the varsity football team, if he hadn't have missed the first game last year. Lastly, there was Melissa, James' girlfriend. They'd been steady since seventh grade as well.
"Good, now that Mr. Martin's here, we can get this over with," sneered Ms. Studney. He opened her office door, and followed us in. We sat down in the four seats in front of her desk as she walked around to face us.
"Now, to why I called you all here," she began, pressing a small button hidden under the edge of his desk. As she explained the situation, the room quickly descended three stories.
She finished just after the room stopped, adding a , "Good Luck," as we made our way out her office door. The room beyond looked like a locker room, and in a way it was, but it only had eight lockers, and there wasn't separate rooms for the girls and the guys. As Melissa and Jessica began to take off their clothes, I nodded my head at James.
Sometimes, being a teenage super hero has it perks.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
[IC] A Recounting
A dark-skinned man clad in a red linen shirt walked into the Goldshire Inn. His chain leggings made little sound as he sat down in front of the fire. He could barely hear the battle cries of the various duels outside the Inn, something that he had grown tired of shortly after entering the Inn itself.
Across from him sat nobody, and that was how it almost always was for him. He rarely travelled with others, though those that he did he kept in touch with when he could. Instead, he reached into one of his belt pouches, and removed a simple leather-bound journal. It looked new, probably recently purchased in Stormwind. He removed a pencil and began to write.
This is the story of Därtzen van Grüden. I was born twenty-three years ago, in a Weastfall farmhouse, now a burned-out ruin of a better time. I had a family once, a mother, a father, a kid sister, but now, they are all gone. Killed or kidnapped on an otherwise ordinary summer night.
I still relive that night in my dreams, less often with every month, but still, it comes to me. The warm embrace of my mother as she put my sister and I to bed. The game Mëlinda and I always played as a way of staying up later. The stern look from father that always showed a hint of anger, as well as love. The scream of my mother as she clutched my sister and I in the corner. The look of glee in the eyes of the masked man as he advanced. The futile attempt mother made to spare our lives. The cries as they look Mëlinda away. The loneliness as I wept for mother and father. The smell of smoke. The crackle of fire. My brief but futile attempts to drag their bodies from the house. The burning sensation as I leapt from the inferno into the grass. My sorrow as I felt truly alone, and was.
But, I've grown. I've made a place for myself, not much of one, but a place just the same. I've fought back. First in Northshire, then in Elwynn, then in Westfall, Moonbrook, and the Mines. I've taken the fight to them. I've had setbacks, yes, but I'm still here. I'm still fighting. And that, well, that makes me who I am. I am Därtzen van Grüden, and this is my story.
Across from him sat nobody, and that was how it almost always was for him. He rarely travelled with others, though those that he did he kept in touch with when he could. Instead, he reached into one of his belt pouches, and removed a simple leather-bound journal. It looked new, probably recently purchased in Stormwind. He removed a pencil and began to write.
This is the story of Därtzen van Grüden. I was born twenty-three years ago, in a Weastfall farmhouse, now a burned-out ruin of a better time. I had a family once, a mother, a father, a kid sister, but now, they are all gone. Killed or kidnapped on an otherwise ordinary summer night.
I still relive that night in my dreams, less often with every month, but still, it comes to me. The warm embrace of my mother as she put my sister and I to bed. The game Mëlinda and I always played as a way of staying up later. The stern look from father that always showed a hint of anger, as well as love. The scream of my mother as she clutched my sister and I in the corner. The look of glee in the eyes of the masked man as he advanced. The futile attempt mother made to spare our lives. The cries as they look Mëlinda away. The loneliness as I wept for mother and father. The smell of smoke. The crackle of fire. My brief but futile attempts to drag their bodies from the house. The burning sensation as I leapt from the inferno into the grass. My sorrow as I felt truly alone, and was.
But, I've grown. I've made a place for myself, not much of one, but a place just the same. I've fought back. First in Northshire, then in Elwynn, then in Westfall, Moonbrook, and the Mines. I've taken the fight to them. I've had setbacks, yes, but I'm still here. I'm still fighting. And that, well, that makes me who I am. I am Därtzen van Grüden, and this is my story.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Plans are made to be broken.
Well, so much for my plan to post more often. Heck, I've even got a [PLAN] post already written up, but I'm just not in the mood for it. I guess, well, that I've gotten complacent, not really wanting to post because I don't have to, or really want to, well, scratch that, I want to post, just not more then I want to WoW, or watch TV. It's about priorities, and I never got far enough into this thing for it to become a priority. Heck, my first post was back at the beginning of the Fall semester, and here it is, spring break, and I'm on like my two dozenth post.
Not a very good blog, but then again, that's about par for the course with me. I get really into something for a week or so, then fall off when nothing really comes out of it. Right now, this blog is just for me, and since I don't have any investment into it, at least, not recently, I really don't seem to have a lot of care for it.
Well, here's hoping that putting the [PLAN] tag on my last post doesn't mean that that plan is an improbable one.
Not a very good blog, but then again, that's about par for the course with me. I get really into something for a week or so, then fall off when nothing really comes out of it. Right now, this blog is just for me, and since I don't have any investment into it, at least, not recently, I really don't seem to have a lot of care for it.
Well, here's hoping that putting the [PLAN] tag on my last post doesn't mean that that plan is an improbable one.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
[META][PLAN] Resurrecting the blog
We all make plans in life. From the mundane, everyday plans of our daily rituals, to our vacation plans, our wedding plans, our retirement plans, our plans for our children, and out plans for our own life. Each and every one is an attempt to add order to the chaos of everyday life. Plans do change, though, some subtly, other more dramatically, but still, they change.
I bring this up because of my reflecting I've recently done regarding my own plans. I have many many, many plans throughout my life. From the mundane, to the life-altering, from the practical, to the fanciful. Some of them were used once and discarded. Others are used on a daily or weekly basis. Some were begun to be implemented, and then aborted or radically altered. Most, though, were thought up, and then abandoned before they could even become to come to fruition, orphaned to the whims of fate.
Now, most of that latter category are contingent on improbable or impossible circumstances, plans that could never come to fruition, or even begun, because of the conditions for implementation. So, in the interest of reinvigorating this faltering blog, hopefully one of my better plans, I will post those impossible plans. Each of these posts, like this one, will have the [PLAN] tag as a prefix, just to make it easier to navigate.
So, here' to one of my better plans.
I bring this up because of my reflecting I've recently done regarding my own plans. I have many many, many plans throughout my life. From the mundane, to the life-altering, from the practical, to the fanciful. Some of them were used once and discarded. Others are used on a daily or weekly basis. Some were begun to be implemented, and then aborted or radically altered. Most, though, were thought up, and then abandoned before they could even become to come to fruition, orphaned to the whims of fate.
Now, most of that latter category are contingent on improbable or impossible circumstances, plans that could never come to fruition, or even begun, because of the conditions for implementation. So, in the interest of reinvigorating this faltering blog, hopefully one of my better plans, I will post those impossible plans. Each of these posts, like this one, will have the [PLAN] tag as a prefix, just to make it easier to navigate.
So, here' to one of my better plans.
The War
I'm not sure why I started this, ro where I'm going with it, but here it is, none the less. Life has finally become mundane, at elast for a while. I have recently found myself conflicted though. I don't support the president, I didn't vote for him in '04, and I wasn't able to put my vote towards Gore in '00. This is the first part of my conflicting thoughts.
The second, though, is that I agree with him on one point. Just one. I agree that we need to stay in Iraq for the foreseeable future. I don't agree with any of the myriad reasons put forth for the commencement of Gulf War II, but I can't see any logical reason for the US to end it at this time. You see, if we were to pull out every troop right now, we'd lose. We'd stop losing lives, even though this is the least deadly war in US history (though there is a shitload of casualties), but we'd lose the war, and a few other things. We'd lose our credibility, since if we pull out, who will trust us in the future, when we couldn't even finish what we started.
We need to stay in Iraq, no because of democracy, though that is fine and dandy, but because if we leave, the terrorists win. They gain an unstable country with millions of sympathizers, and we lose one of our few allies in the region. Sure, we're not going about this the smartest way, but we can't just leave, it would cascade into another isolationist movement like we had after WWI, and that lead to WWII, because we refused to join in. This is a worse case scenario, the best case is just a mild PR nightmare, and the Iraqi people banding together to form a strong and liberal Muslim democracy.
So, we need to stay, and we need to help support the Iraqi citizens. We need to get the Iraqis defending themselves, and to see the terrorists for exactly what they are, homicidal maniacs that don't want to see a free and democratic Iraq. Sure, we put Saddam in power, but he was the lesser of two evils, and then he became the greater evil, but we left him in power after GWI because of politics. If we can't support an Iraqi coalition government, then he might become, once more, the lesser evil. That would be a sad day for America.
So, I hate to admit it, but I agree with President Bush, we need to stay the course in Iraq, because the alternative is worse.
The second, though, is that I agree with him on one point. Just one. I agree that we need to stay in Iraq for the foreseeable future. I don't agree with any of the myriad reasons put forth for the commencement of Gulf War II, but I can't see any logical reason for the US to end it at this time. You see, if we were to pull out every troop right now, we'd lose. We'd stop losing lives, even though this is the least deadly war in US history (though there is a shitload of casualties), but we'd lose the war, and a few other things. We'd lose our credibility, since if we pull out, who will trust us in the future, when we couldn't even finish what we started.
We need to stay in Iraq, no because of democracy, though that is fine and dandy, but because if we leave, the terrorists win. They gain an unstable country with millions of sympathizers, and we lose one of our few allies in the region. Sure, we're not going about this the smartest way, but we can't just leave, it would cascade into another isolationist movement like we had after WWI, and that lead to WWII, because we refused to join in. This is a worse case scenario, the best case is just a mild PR nightmare, and the Iraqi people banding together to form a strong and liberal Muslim democracy.
So, we need to stay, and we need to help support the Iraqi citizens. We need to get the Iraqis defending themselves, and to see the terrorists for exactly what they are, homicidal maniacs that don't want to see a free and democratic Iraq. Sure, we put Saddam in power, but he was the lesser of two evils, and then he became the greater evil, but we left him in power after GWI because of politics. If we can't support an Iraqi coalition government, then he might become, once more, the lesser evil. That would be a sad day for America.
So, I hate to admit it, but I agree with President Bush, we need to stay the course in Iraq, because the alternative is worse.
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