Justice Pipe: A Vignette

 "Come 'ere, baby. I'm in love with you! Why you walkin' away?"

Steps quicken behind me and I match the pace, splashing through a puddle in my heels, dousing my bare legs in rain water.

"Where you going, sweet heart?"

He's closer now, too close. Time to run!

"Hey! You runnin' away from me?!"

Gotta run! Gotta hide! Gotta breath! The alley up ahead! Safety up ahead.

Ducking around the corner, I see the lead pipe drawn, ready, prepared at hearing the sounds of the chase that ran ahead of me down the road.

A shadow nears the alley way. "Oh I got you now, you little slut!"

A leering face, a step, perplexed, afraid, then...

*Whistle... crack!
*Whistle... Smack!
*Whistle... Thack! Shuck
*Whistle... shoop!

With each occurance, the sound became less recognizable as a blow from a length of pipe into a human skull, transformed into the sopping dull impact of tenderizing wet meat. In the alley light, one could just make out the word "JUSTICE" printed in red block text down its length stretched out from the hand of a masked denizen of these crime filled streets.

"One more notch for the pipe", it growled, drawing a knife and carving a mark on its tool; one in a series of many; then holstering the pipe again before disappearing into the darkness with me in tow.

We'll get another one before morning

River Rat: A Vignette

The rattlin' of the heatshield on his '96 Pontiac Sunfire bounced back through the open window coming along with the sulfur smell of wet fart manufactured by our dual industries of paper and meth, temporarily overpowering the stale scent of dead cigarettes. Dale, a wirey creature with patchy beard and fraying cutoff jeans, drives us in his prized ride. His shirt was white once, no longer.

Leaving the four lanes of the main drag, Dale initiates the "system", inserting a bass laden CD through the flipped down faceplate of his after market pawnshop purchase. Autoplay triggers and all sound is devoured by the belching vibration flowing from Dale's expertly home crafted and carpet coated bass box. The subs threatened to uncork Dale's trunk or shake loose an unobserved over-rusted fastener sending some unnecessary piece of car to keep company with the rest of the trash strewn along the roadside.

As we cruise down Old Farm our pace is checked by a rusted-out Ranger going 24. Dale swerves out around the blockage, all gas. We are kings of cool, saluting that prick as he eats exhaust.

We're nearby so I want to drop in on Jessyka over at the Shady 8. Dale makes his way that direction and we put eyes on her sitting outside her apartment, light 100 lit and in hand. Dale parks, letting the system play a moment and rattle the residents for affect before shutting her down.

We approach, offering the customary salutation. "Hey, there. Ain't seen you lately."

Gesturing to her Halifax County issued ankle bracelette, "you knew where to look."

"Yeah, well, I guess. Anything going on?" We light smokes and take a seat.

"Same shit. Sitting on my ass till the 20th."

Dale grins, "if you're sick of sittin', I'll find something to do to your ass."

"Har-de-har, Dale." Flicking ash on his shoes.

And so on, killing an hour and several cigarettes.

"We're getting a couple beers with Decker then meeting up with some people at the top of the hill. Alright if we come by later?"

"Bring me back some curly fries."

The sun's setting when we shut the doors on Dale's car, nodding and raising a salute fairwell as we pull into traffic. The bass erupts, the sun sets, the night is young and we got half a tank of gas.

My Dog

Today my dog would have been 11 years old. She died on a Wednesday morning two weeks ago. I never wanted a dog. I didn't want her. My now wife tried to talk me into buying a basset hound that day we got her. Never. "We should get a dog." No. "But that basset hound is so cute." Absolutely not, the only dog I might even think about getting would be that boxer puppy... "Well let's go see if they'll let us play with her."

I didn't know how to take care of a dog. Can't be so different from a cat. Just give them food and water, right? How do you get them to let you trim their nails? Why does she eat poop? Why don't places allow dogs? Who's going to take care of her when I have to go someplace? Is that a tick on her butt?

I learned the difference between fawn and brindle. She would eat my books. I taught her how to do some cool tricks. She would shake and hide under me when it thundered outside. She had a special way of talking to us. She slept at the foot of my bed. I'd get up in the middle of the night to walk her. I'd come home at lunch to walk her. I'd walk her in the morning and at night. She'd want to go for runs. One time she tried to attack a beggar that came to the door. Good dog.

She started getting older. She couldn't climb the stairs anymore so I'd carry her up sometimes. She couldn't walk very well and would slip on the floor so I got her a rug to stand on. After she lost control of her legs I was building her a wheel chair.

She was sick, but I thought she was getting better. I came home to check on her at lunch. I found her laying under my desk, head resting on my old briefcase. I wrapped her in a blanket and put her in our car. We drove her to the family farm to bury her near the edge of the timber and drove home with an empty car.

Mountain Man Jack: A Vignette

Tumbling through the earth scented fodder common to these wood, I struck my face upon a mossy stone and then continued my escapade down the steepening slope. My descent was arrested abruptly by the gentle embrace of the trunk of a Douglas fir. Half blinded by blood and pain, I managed the effort to lay on my back while heavily breathing in the dusty air. The crashing sound of a heavy beast moving closer through the underbrush, brambles and leaves, rapidly approached and roused me to my knees.

The shadow cast across me in this darkening evening belonged to an enormous creature clad in buckskin and beaverskin and coonskin and manskin. Gutterally spitting a greeting through his three teeth, I learned they called him "Jack". He had heard a "moghty ruckis" while hunting game and observed my frolic with alarm at losing the track of the elk he was trailing.

Neighborly as his preacher taught him to be, he aided me in stumbling to the river where I cleaned the moss from my wound. We sat for a time by the water talking seldom while he smoked his hand-carved pipe. Leaving me, he retraced my route, retrieving my bundle. I managed to shoulder the burden with a bearable amount of effort feeling well enough to make it to my camp. Jack wouldn't think to let me go it alone, a waste the resources invested in aiding me should I "keel o'er" on the way.

Back at my camp I thanked Jack for the help and rewarded him with a days worth of dried elk for the effort. Jack gladly accepted, assuring me "twern't a thing" while simultaneously lamenting the effort and lost hunting time. Bidding me farewell, Jack ambled down the trail whistling "Dan Tucker" through his teeth.

Everyone's a Metallica Fan

As the title suggests, everyone is a Metallica fan, even if they don't know it.  I love the band, but like some people out there, I once said things like "I'm a fan of Greenday. I like them because they rock hard but aren't too hard, like Metallica."  Now that my eyes have been opened I realize how lame I was... so very lame. The one consoling factor is that I was not alone, and even now, there are D.B.s out there spouting this gem, "Metallica? I mean, my dad liked them, and Enter Sandman rocked, but Arcade Fire is just so much better."  But this is what you usually get:

"I've heard a couple of Metallica songs on the radio, they have a good beat." -an actual quote from my mom.

Don't be like my mom, listen to Metallica. There really is something for everyone in the band's nearly 30 years of making music. My personal favorites of the moment come from the bands first decade together and represent ideas about individuality and independence of thought and action. I tend to fixate on lyrics, they're what really make music happen for me and ladies an gentlemen, lyrics don't come much better.

"Do you want what I want? Desire not a thing. I hunger after independence, lengthen freedom's ring." - from ...and Justice for All, track 3 Eye of the Beholder.

Now I'm sure that there are some nay sayers that will never be swayed, but they suck and we, the blessed baskers in the metal light know the one truth "Metal is the kingdom and Metallica our king."

Social Safety Net

What happens when they all fall in?

The Moon and You

The most important thing people will ever do is learn to leave this planet.  Given a long enough time line, life on this planet is finite.  Eventually, a long time from now, the Sun will burn through its supply of hydrogen and become a red giant, engulfing the inner planets and burning the remains of Earth to a cinder. If we remain bound to Earth and manage to survive as a species until then, this will be the end of humanity.  I have a vision of the distant future and in it the human race is immortal and will outlive the dregs of this world, solar system, galaxy, and universe.  In order to get there, however, we need to take action, practical steps that will help us leave this rock and teach us how to live in the broader realm of the universe.  We must do this before it is too late.  Today we have the resources to start this journey and in some ways it has begun, but in the near future political, social, environmental, and economic instability could rob us of our destiny, leaving us impotent against fate and the whims of existence.  That is what brings me here today to talk to you about our next step towards our collective goal, the Moon.

We've been there before. The Chinese are planning to get back there by 2020.  Americans, the most capable nation of people in this regard, have decided that it isn't worth the costs.  Our natural satellite provides us with a unique opportunity to explore and expound upon theory about living and subsiding on a celestial body other than our cradle of life here on this planet and put idea into practical application.  The Moon is a test bed that is within arms reach and we should use it to further our knowledge and ability. It would be better to try our luck there than to wait and see what might happen once we get to further destinations where help and rescue would be further away than a few days.

So I've been thinking about these things for a while now and I realized that I will probably never be able to go to the Moon. I really have no marketable skills that a space program could use in a colonization experiment. I've thought about studying horticulture in order to garner some possibly necessary skills that could be used on such a mission. Sustainable food production would be a concern right? Well, this has led friends to call me a Moon farmer... I hate them... "Hoho-haha, Zack's going to farm the Moon!  He's going to fly a tractor up there and bury seeds and grow them!  He's so dumb!" This is infuriating. Either misunderstanding what I'm talking about or mocking my good ideas.

Anyway back to me not going to the Moon. True, I wont be taking a rocket ride anytime soon unless I go down to the Chucky Cheese with a sack of quarters and a borrowed child but I did find a way to make the trip...

BEHOLD!!!

Friends I am unveiling to you my second book idea in as many blog posts.  This yet untitled masterpiece will chronicle a journey from Earth to the Moon. A group of scientists, contractors, engineers, and possible lunar extremists (they're going to take over the Moon base) embark on a journey to complete a project that will make life on the Moon and travel between planets in the solar system faster and more affordable.  The bad news, friends, is that it could also be a weapon of mass destruction if wielded by the nefarious Guild of Doom (or some such group of evildoers). There will be twists and turns and possible surprises thanks to a good idea that Natalie had. I know you're dieing for more info. Maybe a sneak peak into the first chapter "Lift Off," well too bad for you suckers. I guess you'll have to wait until or if it is written. Until then I guess you'll have to slake your thirst with old episodes of Star Trek, or Babylon 5.