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Category Archives: Writings

Random stuff, a lot of it appears in my head

Constant panting echoed through the pure white halls of Heaven as John Brown hustled towards the transporter room. Once inside, and still gasping, his sweaty hand slapped the red button to send him back to Earth. Sparkles flew and particles of light circled around him as the room began to incrementally shake in a mechanical way.

Soon enough, John was sliding through inter-dimensional wormhole. The walls of swirling purple plasma and constricting high pressure came to a relieving end as his body began to materialise on Earth. Visually, it looked much the same as the beginning of his journey: sparkles with particles of light spiraling around him.

After fully materialising, John stretched. His large white feathered wings straightened to their full length. His superhuman manifestation was entirely snow white, except his skin retained some element of life, bearing a fleshly hue. Considerably taller than a normal man, he still was retained an humanoid form, with the notable addition of the wings. Each hand held a large doubled edged sword with the blades encircled by glowing white flames.

Apparently, it was nighttime, with a mild breeze in the air. Noone was out and about, despite the nice light cast from the not entirely full moon. In this light of darkness, John began his first visit. The way in which he moved gave the appearance that under his long white robe, neither his feet nor legs were actually moving, but rather floating or sliding along the ground effortlessly.

Before long, his irking pace led him to the wooden door of a farmhouse. With both fists, still holding the swords, he beat on the door. A middle-aged woman answered the door.

Letting out an elongated “Hoooo!” with his rounded lips and with the tip of the sword in his left hand he bopped her on the head, inflicting a mortal wound. Upon hearing the commotion, her husband rose from his chair, yelling, “What the sam hell..”. Seeing the visiter, his eyes grew larger, leaving him in a paralysed shock. Brown then lunged towards him with the sword in his right hand, piercing the man’s chest. The man hollered, “Ahhh! You got me!” before Brown lopped off his head with the other sword.

Now, the entire household was awake. The slaves rushed to their master’s aid, only to find they no longer had a master. Seeing them, Brown raised both arms into the air, and boisterously declared, “You are freeeee!” With feelings mixed with gratitude and fear, they fled his presence.

The remainder of the night continued in much the same way. John joyously jogged from one homestead to the next. He developed an rhythmic methodology, not unlike that of a ballroom dance. In fact, the Bitter Sweet Symphony Remix began to play at the beginning of each visit he made.

Finally, after another visit, the wide eyes of his no nonsense expression gazed into the sky to see that dawn was quickly approaching. Around half way back to the town square, he realised he wasn’t going to make it. Dropping both swords, he used each hand to hold up his flowing robe. Bustling along as quickly as he could, he cried allowed with a tinge of desperation in his tone, “I have to get back to Heaven!”

Reaching the destination right in time, he quickly spun around and stomped his right foot onto the ground. The earth shook and sparkles flew as particles of light began to encircle him.


This is the concept for a TV game show slash reality show. Basically, a store is selected to be used a stadium, no colosseum. Depending upon the size of the store selected, participation could either be team based, one on one, or even free for all. In fact, it would probably be interesting to have a few different leagues to keep things interesting.

Additionally, there could be some variation by means of different scenarios. For example, a defend and assault scenario where one team could be given a head start to bunker down in the store, and then the other team begins with an assault. Of course all the favourite modes could be done as well, like capture the flag, last man standing, etc.

Basically, the rules are that you can use whatever you find in the store to combat the other players. This means, you reach the gun sections first, you can use guns. Wanna be more creative? Get to the cleaning supplies aisle and concoct yourself some weapons. The possibilities are really limitless.

Obviously, long standing players would acquire a preference for certain items and techniques, so by switching the store around, it requires the players to be creative and to produce more weapons. At a hunting store, the best weapons are obvious. But what about at a book store? Or a grocery store? This is when things get interesting.

As I was at a conference, a doctor was speaking. Already, he had oiled his institution and programme in prestige. The arrogance metre was elevating. He was telling of how he had considered giving some pointers for the admission interview to a prospective student of the graduate programme of this particular doctor’s institution. Explaining why he chose not to do so, with the air of having received a revelation in his personal journey in life, he suddenly declared, “Because that would inject a bias!”. Whilst making this declaration, he cocked his head, jolted both index fingers into the air and even his buttocks from off his seat. I can’t say a normal person would have acted this way.

I have no quarrel with his decision nor his reasons behind it, but the way in which he recounted the event and turned it into an academic outburst is what raised the eyebrows. The whole incident was so prestigious.

Standing inside a dimly lit room of his house, young fell gazed out the window into the clear blue sky. It was another late Friday afternoon, right when there’s that stillness outside. No wind, and very little sound. Hardly another soul to be seen. He looked back inside the room, seeing the dust particles floating in the rays of sunlight. But, beyond the sunbeams, a dark figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Lucifer.

Another steady step, and then he stopped. His eyes continued to gaze into the boy’s, as Lucifer opened his mouth with a touch of wetness. Then it became clear, his lips where wet so his offer could roll of them so smoothly: “Give me your soul, and I’ll grant you seven wishes.”

Startled, the boy stepped back with his right foot. Reaching into behind his back, he pulled out an orange water pistol and fired with lighting precision into the face of Lucifer. The attack was accompanied with the response to the offer: “Screw you!”

In a shrill voice, Lucifer shrieked in pain, “Ahhh my eyes! You douche!” Continuing to fire, the boy rolled once he was empty, picking up a water burst rifle. This weapon was quite the analogue to a shotgun, pump action with bursts of water.

Repeatedly being hit with shots from the new weapon, Lucifer began roaring as he stepped backwards. Suddenly, a black hole opened behind him, spanning the entire width of the room and even part of the floor behind. On its edges, drips of darkness blurred and mingled with the physical realm of the room. Continuing to step backwards, Lucifer finally put his weight on a foot that had no foundation and he fell backwards into the black hole, roaring as his stiff body rotated.

Though we failed the mission, we were still alive. Our chopper had gained enough altitude that we were relatively safe, no enemy fire, no enemy aircraft, and no anti-air. The only ‘threat’ that remained were a few ants on the ground still pursuing us. They had slaughtered most of our unit on the ground with their swords, but there wasn’t much they could do to us now.

After a few minutes, I looked back. We’d lost a lot of good men down there.The patches of blood were still visible, even from this far away. It’s at this time, that I noticed the enemy was still chasing after us. More disturbing is that they were actually keeping up with our helicopter.

Then, one of them pulled ahead of the rest. Gradually, he was not only keeping up, but actually gaining on us. As he got closer, I remembered him. All of them fought fiercely, but this one, it was like he was possessed. By now, I could distinguish the colour of his armour against the glow of that giant sword. The sword was as sharp as any from these lands, but had to have been over 2 metres long and it burned as hot as Hell itself.

When I began to make out the details of his face, I realised that he was no longer on the ground. He was running in the air. No, not quite. He was stepping on butterflies. Not stomping on them, but gracefully bounding from one to another with every stride.

The situation was quickly turning into a real problem. Alerted, the commander ordered us to open fire with whatever weapons we had left, mostly just pistols. No effect, that which actually hit barely dinted that blue armour.

He disappeared. I looked out the door and saw him nowhere. In an instant, I was face to face with him as he jetted up from below. His eyes were opened wide with that possessed look. As quickly as he appeared, still outside, he jetted to my right, the front of the copter.

With my jaw dropped, I don’t think I moved for a second. But when I did, I could see a beam of light spanning from the left to the right side of the fuselage coming towards me. It sliced right through the helmet ‘protected’ heads of the pilot and copilot. This was it, he was decapitating the whole freakin’ chopper.

A trinket was tossed down from the heavens. It was fashioned in the shape of an animal, maybe a giraffe, with a glow and sparkle like cheap crap out of an entrance machine. While still in the air, a young zealot sprang into the sky to take hold of the trinket. In the air, he did a flip, and then stretched out his body with all his might, reaching up so far that his armpit ached until his desperate hand finally took hold of the trinket.

Once he acquired the object, and whilst still in the air, it was as if time stopped. A disturbing holler of excitement come through his mouth as beams of red and pink stars began puking out of both eyes. Time started again, but the stars continued coming out of his eyes and he began descending back to the ground. As he descended, his body was nearly in a seated position, as if he were sitting in a chair. But if the invisible chair were rotating continuously forward, making the man continuously flip.

This continued and the rotations became faster and faster as he came lower and lower. Amazingly, he literally hit the ground running and proceeded to run down the street. He continued running until he reached the other side of the Earth and disappeared.

Many, many years ago, the god of excrement made a deal with humankind. He said, If multiple times a day you will show me your private parts and present your urine and feces as an offering to me, I will utterly remove such waste from your presence. Humankind agreed. Then, the god of excrement instructed, Build you a room and place in it an altar idol which you shall call Toilette for which to offer your gifts unto me. Humankind did so. And to this day, nearly every building has a room dedicated to the god of excrement, with an altar idol in his image.

Okay, so there’s this big controversy about the age of some of the girls on China’s Olympic gymnastics team. The rules are that they’re supposed to be at least 16 to compete. Not everyone is convinced that all these girls are.

For several of the gymnasts from other countries, the prompt stating their name, nation, etc. has clearly stated their age to be 15. I’m guessing this is allowed because their birthdays are actually later this year.

I think a lot of people have overlooked, or just don’t realise, how Chinese count age. In most of the Western world, if you’re born on 4 July 2008, you are not considered a year old until 4 July 2009. This isn’t so in China (as well as some other Asian nations). In China, you are considered a year old on the day you are born.

So, if the Chinese are counting this way, then yes, they very well could have 15 year olds  (by Western thinking) on their team. Now, if we applied the scenario above where a girl is actually 15, but will be 16 later this year to Chinese counting, we effectively decrement these numbers by 1. Thus, a girl who is 14 (by Western thinking) and will be 15 (again, by Western thinking) later this year, we can see how there could indeed be 14 year olds on the team.

For the record, I don’t think it’s a big deal. The girls can do their skills, then they deserve their medals. What really needs to be investigated is the judging and the tie breaking procedure, and whether there should even be a tie breaker.

Masses, and masses of people, an ocean of people standing everywhere. But there’s a trail that really stands out because there’s no people on it. It’s the only piece of ground for kilometres where there are no people. If you looked down the trail, you wouldn’t see the end. Not because the trail wasn’t straight, but because it’s so long.

As you walk down the trail, you reach a shadow that spans over the trail and the masses. At this point, you can finally see the end. There’s a large tower. For the most part, the tower’s texture is rounded and smooth like river stones. But there’s spikes or horns emanating from it, presenting a devilish contrast. The whole either slate grey or black, you can’t really tell because the sunlight on it makes the colour ambiguous.

Closer, and closer you go. Soon you can see the trail leads up a rather steep set of grandiose stairs. And the stairs lead up to disturbingly large doors. In the cast iron blackness of the doors, you can clearly see there etched jackal feastings and carnivorous ceremonies.

With a consistency and elegance, the doors smoothly float open. Once open, Duel of the Fates began to blare across the entire spectrum. And as you see Sawyer walk out from the door, you realise for the first time in your life that the song is saying “Sawyer comes forth! Sawyer lives with us!”.

Despite some minor ambiguities, I have determined that the song Shake It by Metro Station is referring to playing a game of chess. The three protagonists of this narrative are a boy, a girl, and a friend of the boy. Here’s the interpretation:

(Let’s Drop!)

This is referring to setting up the board and game pieces.


(Come On)

(Shake, shake)

These are just various cheers of excitement for the game to commence.

I’ll take you home if you don’t leave me at the front door (leave me at the front door)

The boy is offering to take the girl home if in turn she will play a game of chess with him at her house.

Your body’s cold, but girl we’re getting so warm

The girl is cold, but she’s getting warmed up for the game.

And I was thinking of ways that I could get inside (get inside)

The boy’s considering various tactical moves.

Tonight you’re falling in love (let me go now)

Normally, the girl doesn’t enjoy chess, but the boy is hoping that she will become a more regular player.

This feeling’s stirring me up (here we go now)

He’s referring to the anticipation of the game.

Now if she does it like this, will you do it like that

Now if she touches like this, will you touch her right back

Now if she moves like this, will you move it like that (come on)

At this point, the picture becomes blurry and we see a flashback. In anticipation of this game, the boy’s friend is coaching him on which moves to use to counter the girl’s moves.

Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, uh shake it

Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, uh shake it

Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, uh shake it

Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, uh shake it

Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, uh shake it

If achieving victory becomes impossible, the friend advises the boy the to shake the board as a very last resort.

Your lips tremble but your eyes are in a straight stare (eyes are in a straight stare)

Now the girl exhibits nervousness, but is able to maintain focus.

You’re on the bed but your clothes are laying right there

Apparently, they upped the stakes and are playing strip chess, with the girl losing. Likewise, it appears that they were able to move the board onto the bed, presumably to be more comfortable.

And I was thinking of places that I could hide (I could hide)

Basically, the boy is referring to covering his king, castling perhaps.

Tonight you’re falling in love (let me go now)

Again, the boy asserts his opinion that the girl will become obsessed with chess after this game.

This feeling’s stirring me (here we go now)

The thought of creating a new chess player is an emotional experience for the boy.

Well I saw you dancing and I couldn’t get you off my mind

From the context, it seems the girl was taking a long time to maker her move, so the boy imagined her dancing.

(I could tell that you could tell that I was taking my time)

It seems the boy was stalling his move or considering it carefully, and the girl noticed this.

I was thinking of ways that you would stay and be mine

Now the boy is having grandiose thoughts of making the girl his disciple.

(Your body’s shaking, turn me on, so I can turn off the lights)

At this point, the game is nearly over. The girl distraught because she is on the verge of losing. It seems that this is causing her a long time to make a move, so the boy uses a poetic construction to requests that she wake him up when the game is over so that he can go home and go to sleep.