Monday, September 29, 2008


Perched atop the couch
She surveys all that lies before her
If approached
The statuesque being bolts in a torrent of energy
Dashing this way and that
To avoid capture
Being held is so constricting
Being petted is so agitating
Except when she is on my shoulder
The green scaled body is so calm
Almost purring
If she could
As my finger rubs up and down her body
We sense a connection
She and I
We are one
If only for a moment

Friday, September 26, 2008

Jack Chance Case Files - Part 4: On The Lake

I gave Beth a call to see what she could shake loose about Robert Wallic but there was no answer at the office. The girl must still have been out on her errands. Thoughts from the morning rolled through my mind as I ate my eggs and sipped my coffee at the diner down on third. There wasn’t much to go on so far, but that was to be expected this early in the game. If it was any easier then any schmuck could do this job.

The afternoon was spent combing the streets of the neighborhood asking around if anyone had seen poor Robert. Every pawn shop and dive bar gave me the same response, they didn’t know no nothing much less recognize the face in the picture I swiped from his place. Leg work is the long boring part but it passes the time. It also gave me a chance to re-familiarize myself with the lay of the land. By dusk I had done my fair share of busy work and made my way to Mike’s on the Lake.

It was late enough that the dinner crowd was starting to thin but early enough that the regulars had yet to show. By passing the dining room I sat at the bar, ordered the fish fry, and listened in to the conversations that welled up around me. By the time I finished my meal I gathered that Julie was the usual weeknight bartender and that the billiards league was in the toilet.

Julie was a good bartender. She paid attention to the regulars, pouring heavy, and kept her eyes on the lowlife scum that wandered in. Chatting her up and tipping well got me an in or two. She remembered Robert, quite fondly actually. He usually sat at the bar with a notebook and wrote poetry all night. Every night that he was in he would buy her a drink and slipped her a poem with the tip. She saw their petty banter as a little game, a little back and fourth to pass the time until closing. He had stopped showing up a while back and she missed the entertainment.

“You asking about Robert?” A tall skinny guy asked me as Julie finished her story. I nodded and Julie went back to her business. “Robert’s a good kid. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s a good kid. It’s funny how he sits here night after night pretending to be a writer but you talk to him and he can’t tell a good story to save his life.”

I bought my new found friend a round and inquired as to what he meant. “Well,” he continued between sips, “take the last time I saw him for instance. We got to talking about my last trips to Vegas and New York. Clients were tripping over themselves to take me out to bars and strip clubs, trying to butter me up for their next purchase. Robert tried to compete. I’ll never forget the conversation. He tried to tell me that some smoking hot blonde was all over him and got him a new job. It was funny how he kept tripping over his words. He kept leaving out details and interrupting himself to try to put those details back in. it was a mess. I told him that if he wanted to snag that blonde he was talking about that he should work on his storytelling more than his poetry.”

I asked my new friend if he knew what the new job was, he said that it was Humboldt’s something or other. It was at least something to go on. I bought another round and listened in to his tales from Vegas and New York. Any further work would have to wait until morning.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

In The Game

“Run! Run! Run!” The woman shouted as the six year old cleared the bases. Two other kids rushed for the ground ball at the same time, racing each other to be the first to grab the errant ball. The catcher ripped off his mask and shouted for the ball to be thrown home. The parents, sitting in lawn chairs around the field, were cheering the kids on. It didn’t matter to any of them that the rules were not enforced in this game. No matter what happened, the little boy will be safe, he will make it home.

“Our man,” a man said as he leaned over in his lawn chair to talk into her ear as quietly as he dared. “Our man is held in their custody. Intel suggests that a 12 man team should be able to extract him.”

“Should? I can’t make decisions that go against policy based upon shoulds and coulds!” She still watched the game but her whispered tones towards the man had become harsh.

“Look, we need to get him out. The team is ready to go, they are on stand by. Just give the word and we will get him out.”

She turned to look directly at him and hissed, “I need to know that your team can do this.”

“They are the best, ma’am.”

“You better not fail or else there will be dire consequences from the top. Get him out and keep us in the game.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Monday, September 22, 2008

Dancing For Me

A storm raged outside my home and inside my heart
Sheets of rain slammed against the plate glass windows
Darkening the night such that I could barely see
The street light at the end of the block dimly illuminated
She was gone and there was nothing I could do about it

I opened up her jewelry box
The last remnant of her that I had
As the lid flipped up twinkling music started
A tiny ballerina started to twirl
She was dancing for me

Friday, September 19, 2008

Penumbral Gambit - Episode 6: Showdown

Disclaimer: Penumbral Gambit is a work of fan fiction set in the Star Wars universe. Several locations, items, and concepts belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd. The picture is a combination of an image from Sergio Leone’s “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” and an image from Wizards of the Coast’s “Star Wars Saga Edition” role playing game book. This story and image is purely meant for entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended.
“What’s going on out there?!” the voice demanded again over the comm unit. The four looked at each other as a shard of glass fell from a blown out window behind them.
Dubja snatched the comm unit out of Tahnel’s hand and while holding back his accent he said, “Nothing. Nothing is going on. Just a weapons malfunction. These Petersen brand grenades are very temperamental. When the grenade went off it spooked some of our men, thinking we were under attack, and they fired their weapons. Everything is fine out here. How are you?” The group grimaced at the question, and the people inside the throne room must have too. A click of the door’s locking device was audible as the comm unit clicked off.
“I can get that door open,” Jett said as he reached in his pack and pulled out some explosives.
“Not that way,” Tahnel said, “we can’t just blow the door off its hinges. We are trying to save the princess, and she might get hurt in the chaos. Not to mention that the king wants his son back alive.”
“Fine.” Jett grumbled as he put away the explosives and pulled out a tool kit. While worked on manually unlocking the door he muttered under his breath mocking the Jedi. “Can’t use explosives. Might hurt someone. Boo Hoo. I can control my explosions better than that. If I wanted to I could just knock that door over and no one would get hurt… much.”
Within a few seconds the door slid open and the group rushed into the throne room. Prince Perin stood in the middle of the room, clutching his sister Shaela in front of him with a blaster pistol to her head. A guard stood in each corner of the room, blasters at the ready, waiting for the Prince’s order to attack.
“Let the girl go and no one will get hurt,” Tahnel said in a soft soothing voice.
“No! I will not let Dorreth be subjugated by the will of the Republic. We are a free people and we will continue to live a free existence. The Republic only aims to bring death and destruction to my people. I will not let Shaela go until my demands are met and the induction into the Republic is stopped.”
“The Republic only seeks to bring peace to the galaxy.” Tahnel responded. “Was it not the Mandalorians that attacked the unaligned worlds in the Mandalorian war? It was their goal to gain strength by wiping out those planets. The ones under the protection of the Republic did not see that destruction.”
“Peace? HA! That is a joke.” Perin spat the words out. “Taris, a Republic planet I might remind you, was nearly wiped out in the Jedi Civil War a few years later. The Republic was not there to protect Taris and it will not be there to protect Dorreth. There are many enemies of the Republic that would jump at the chance to attack a peaceful planet like Dorreth. We would be left to die because the mighty Republic would not want to send troops to a backwater world to protect it. The mighty Republic has better things to do.”
Tahnel said with a sigh, “You are trying my patience. Your father has asked that you be returned to him unharmed and that this rebellion be ended. Senator Aklarr Tennet has paid us to end this rebellion and to end you. I’m sure my compatriots here will be more than willing to do as the Senator asks, but I would like to finish this without any more bloodshed.” Dubja and Jett grinned at this comment while Re’ahn simply lit her lightsaber.
“The Senator sent you to kill me? I don’t believe you! You lying Republic scum!”
“Believe or not, that is your decision. Just understand one thing, between the two of us only one will walk out of this room. Make your decision.”
As Perin’s mouth opened to yell for his guards to open fire Tahnel’s mind reached out to the captive Shaela. With the power of the force he pulled her from her brothers grasp and caught her in his grasp. As the guards opened fire the group leapt into action. Dubja tossed a stun grenade towards the prince while diving for cover and drawing his pistol. Jett’s blaster rifle came to life as it sent shot after shot towards a far guard, the wall erupted in a haze of plaster as each shot slammed into it. Re’ahn charged the closest guard, wildly swinging her lightsaber.
The prince ducked behind the throne, dodging most of the of the concussion blast from the grenade. He fired with his blaster pistol, but his shaking hand did not improve his aim. Jett and Re’ahn quickly dispatched of the guards while Tahnel protected the princess. Dubja flanked Perin, he paused only long enough switch his pistol to stun mode before plugging the rebel leader with a couple shots, knocking him unconscious. Shaela screamed and attempted to rush to her brother, but Tahnel held her back.
“Hesa just knocked out,” Dubja said as he prodded the body with his pistol. The bounty hunter put a set of binder cuffs to ensure that the captive could not escape if he did become conscious.
“Do you feel that?” Re’ahn asked with a tone of urgency in her voice. “There is evil near by.”

Wednesday, September 17, 2008


The sun fell and the stars rose behind the buick as it charged down the highway. “Are they following?” she asked as she clutched my arm.

“Shhhh,” I whispered. “It will all be ok.”

We had not been out of the city long. The excitement of the day had drawn out into the pre-night twilight. “I’m scared,” she said as she pulled tight on my arm. I told her that everything will be fine, that she will be safe as long as I am protecting her.

The girl fell asleep while holding my arm while I drove. It didn’t bother me that I couldn’t move my arm while she slept. I was almost comforted by her reliance upon me. I had been a washed-out bumb for so long that I had forgotten what it was like to be needed.

Truth be told, I’m scared. Twenty years and thirty pounds ago I could have handled this, but now— I’m old, I’m washed-out, I’m a nothing. Everyone that I have ever tried to protect before has met a grizzly end. I had always tried so hard, but even the fate of my charges sealed the end with my long carrier with the force.

I can protect myself just fine, whether it be a bar fight or a shootout, I always seem to come out on top. It is something different when you are in charge of someone else. God only knows how much I hate an escort mission.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Inebriated Pleading

When I make an ass of myself
Which seems to be quite often
It is not intentional
Never has been
Never will be
I did not mean it
All that I now do
Is ask for your forgiveness
It is all that I can do
When I am in this state
Please listen to me
You are the only one
Please listen to me
Only you can
I love you
For ever and always

Saturday, September 13, 2008

'Imperial Grand Strategy' Review

****/***** Yes, this is a couple of lectures and an interview in which production values leave something to be desired. I have read reviews of people writing they had a hard time staying awake or paying attention (is it really that hard to pay attention to someone simply speaking for awhile??), but the production is easily tolerable. Moreover, the content within is exceptionally informative (although sometimes a little dated) and supersedes the aforementioned faults. I heard everything just fine and was so entranced by Chomsky's substance (and occaisional sarcasm) time went quickly and I was justly rewarded. This should be required viewing for every American as intellectual Chomsky challenges/questions modern media and written history with compelling examples (see one of his books to see just how believable and thorough his footnotes are). It is not a matter of bipartisanship or the right or the left, but a matter of imperialist (almost feudalistic) corporate and governmental enterprises pulling the strings of countries all over the world, sometimes creating oppressive dictatorships. Topics include Monroe Doctrine philosophy, currency control, Neo-Reaganites within the current administration, Geneva Convention violations and much much more. Watch this!!!

Friday, September 12, 2008

Jack Chance Case Files - Part 3: First Impressions

I spent a few moments piecing together the few details that Joanne had given me. She had given me a lot of good information about who this Robert Wallic was but there was nothing that jumped out at me. I’ll have to start at the bottom and figure out the basics first. Before I headed out the door I left a note for Beth, my assistant, detailing the outline of the case and asking her to dig up the usual background check on Robert. She had taken advantage of business being slow and had the morning off to run a few errands.

The drive over to the north side of town was uneventful. Traffic only gets to be a pain heading out of town in the afternoons when the downtown business let out and the white collar workers flood out of the down town as fast as kids on the last day of school. I parked the jalopy around the corner and walked a block to Wallic’s place, a drab little bungalow. It could have been real cute with a fresh coat of paint, some landscaping, and a transplant to a neighborhood that wasn’t under the shadow of the surrounding factories.

A quick knock on the door confirmed that no one was home so I started to look for a spare key, unfortunately a key was no where to be found. I made my way around the house and used my lock picks at the rear door. It was only a few moments before I heard a click and the door creaked open.

From the kitchen alone it was obvious that a bachelor lived in the house. There were dirty dishes soaking in the sink and the only contents in the fridge was a case of beer and left over pizza. By the looks of the dishes and pizza it was a safe bet that Joanna was right and no one had been here in quite some time.

My search of the house was slow and deliberate, going through each drawer and closet with care. I made a mental catalog of each item that I found and put the seemingly unimportant pieces back while making a pile of interesting pieces in each room. Although thorough, my initial search of the house was fairly quick. The kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, and basement each gave up their own small pile of secrets.

Most of what I found added to the details of what Joanne had told me about Robert Wallic. Books and papers were piled everywhere. Robert fancied himself as some sort of a writer. Notes were scribbled on every piece of scratch paper and a few unfinished manuscripts lay about. A box of receipts showed that he spent a large portion of his evenings at Mike’s on the Lake. I knew the place, it was a tavern a few blocks away that was usually full of factory men no matter what time of day it was. The factories run around the clock and the guys are always looking for an after work brew and sometimes a brawl. It can be a rough place but the Friday night fish fry is decent enough to keep the common folk coming back.

I pocketed the spare key that I had found and left through the front door. The receipts that I had found were all time stamped in the evening. That would give me a few hours before I had to head out to Mike’s on the Lake to ask a few questions of the regulars. There were a few things that I wanted to check up on first so the delay would work out fine.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

'Stealing Home' Review

***/***** I remember watching this movie circa 1990 when I was about 12. Back then I thought this movie was great, so I rented it to see how my frame-of-reference would match up. However, I didn't like it near as much, but it is still a pretty decent movie for what it is. The "tell you how to feel" score is way too much, and if ever a film had too much sentimentality to it, this is that film. Nonetheless, there is something to be said of some of the themes and the way the coming-of-age story is executed. Mark Harmon stars as Billy Wyatt, a washed-up minor league baseball player who receives news that his childhood babysitter and friend Katie, has committed suicide. What follows is his journey home, complete with reflections on his past and his duty of respectively laying her ashes to rest. A lot of the story is in flashbacks, and we see how Billy has come to be--and what his relationship was like with Katie and others. One thing that bothered me, though, is that we were shown this background and story on Foster's character Katie, but we're never told why she killed herself? Overall, a mediocre 100 minutes of entertainment.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Hold My Hand

“Hold my hand!” Frank shouted over the din. Wind whipped by as the pair stood precariously over the deep gorge. Jenny reached out for Frank, her fingers mere inches away from his outstretched hand. “Come on baby, you can do it.”

“I can’t!” she shouted as her hands grabbed a hold of the rock face in front of her. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I just can’t do it.”

“You can do it, I know you can.”

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

'Reservation Road' Review

***/***** This film had the potential to be truly excellent. The performances by Phoenix and Ruffalo are Phenomenal, and you can almost feel all the guilt, melancholy, loss and suffering vicariously through them as they are besieged by these feelings. However, the screenplay had some very contrived occurrences and coincidences, that kind of took me out of the film and at times left me wondering if I had accidentally stumbled upon the Lifetime Network. Ruffalo's character accidentally hits a young child, then decides to flee the scene. For him and all involved, tumultuous times seem to say, "I have a surprise for you today." Definitely worth the time if you are a fan of either of the aforementioned actors. Added to this, the cinematography is tiptop, with drowned-out color schemes and the like personifying moods and such. In closing, I would have a little reservation recommending this, but overall, it is probably a road worth taking on a rainy hum-drum night.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Turning Gears

With a click and a clack
The cog of life spins for us all
It turns with no end
Taking us along for a ride
With any luck
You won’t be flatten between the gears
As they turn on their endless voyage
How can one make any progress
If it is all so cyclical
The world was as it was
Before you were born
And it will remain as it was
After you die
What is the point of it all
If it all is just a circle
As you spin on the gears
That we call life

Friday, September 05, 2008

Penumbral Gambit - Episode 5: Palace Assault

Disclaimer: Penumbral Gambit is a work of fan fiction set in the Star Wars universe. Several locations, items, and concepts belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm Ltd. The picture is a combination of an image from Sergio Leone’s “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” and an image from Wizards of the Coast’s “Star Wars Saga Edition” role playing game book. This story and image is purely meant for entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended.


A speeder truck pulled over to the side of the road and four figures darted from the hatchway into the darkness. They had quickly memorized the route to the royal palace while they traveled from the hotel downtown to the drop-off point. The green holographic images were fresh in their minds. Their minds traced the path as they ran; down the street, left at the third ally, right at the bank, and right at the restaurant. It did not take long before they were cutting through the fence and sprinting the open distance to the side of the three story building.

In silence they withdrew grappling hook launchers and fired at the roofline three stories above. The anchors held tight to the concrete above and the powered winches on their belts pulled them up. Once on the third story ledge, the one clad in armor set about opening the window. Like wraths in the night the group silently entered the secured royal palace.

In the pre-dawn light the group could make out the forms of cabinets, counters, and cooking appliances. They had inserted themselves in the kitchen, exactly where they planed. The Gungan placed his large ears against the door and listened. Footsteps could be heard in the hallway on the other side of the thin door. He stepped back from the door and waited.

With a shenk the door slid open and an armed guard on patrol stepped into the kitchen. Dubja drew his heavy blaster pistol, fired, and returned it to the holster before the guard’s lifeless body hit the ground. At the sound of the gunshot a second guard came running down the hallway from behind a corner. Jett stepped into the hallway and unloaded a five round burst into the guard, felling him in the volley.

The bodies were hastily dragged to an out of the way place in the kitchen. The group had hit its first spot of bad luck since their ship exited hyperspace on the far side of the star system’s gas giant. King Andon’s report had said that the third floor of the palace was thinly guarded and a patrolling guard had stumbled upon them as soon as they had infiltrated the building. Even though the plan was to run fast and hard though the palace, they had hoped to make it down to the second floor before running into any opposition. Tahnel removed a comm unit from one of the guards and listened. The airwaves were silent, their luck was holding.

Silently the infiltrators moved through the palace to the elevator on the right side of the building. The lift would only take them down to the second floor; from there they would have to make their way to the center of the palace where a grand lift would take them down to the atrium. Without a sound the elevator doors opened and the group entered.

Soon the doors slid open again and the group stepped onto the second floor. A guard sat slumped over in a chair in front of them. Dubja drew a switchblade from his boot and crept up to the sleeping guard. With a quick flick of his wrist he ensured that the guard would not wake from his rest.

The group made their way down the hallway towards the lobby in the center of the royal palace. All of a sudden a voice rang out behind the party. It called for them to halt and throw down their weapons. They turned to see a pair of guards behind them, both with their blaster rifles drawn and one was fumbling with a comm unit.

Re’ahn leapt into action, outstretched her hand and a wave of force shot out, knocking over the guards and flinging the comm unit away. Tahnel lit his green lightsaber and charged the prone targets. Re’ahn flicked on her blue lightsaber and was not far behind. The guards rose and fired their weapons but the pair made quick work of them.

It was not long before the group had made it to the second floor lift lobby. The grand entrance lift was a ten by ten meter platform that had ornate metal handrails with glass filling in the open areas. As the lift lowered the group could see into the well lit atrium. Fountains flanked the lift with a pool full of fish which ran under the lift connecting the water works and there were also crystal chandlers that seemed to hover just below the ceiling. Guards were stationed in front of the double doors to the royal chamber as well as on the other side of the main entrance glass doors and wall.

Dubja fired at a guard stationed at the royal chamber doors and dove for cover behind a fountain. Instantly the room erupted in a vortex of violence. The guards opened fire while the force users dove towards them with their lightsabers lit. Jett raked across the guards with covering fire.

The guards on the other side of the glass entry stared at the battle in abject terror. Tales of Jedi knight prowess in combat had reached even the backwater world of Dorreth. Dubja took advantage of their hesitation to fight; he flipped the front of his poncho over his shoulder, grabbed a fragmentation grenade, and tossed it towards the glass wall. The explosion showered the exterior guards with shrapnel and shards of glass, killing two of them instantly. The rest dropped their weapons and fled from the palace.

More guards rushed in from doors on the side of the atrium. The map had indicated that a small barracks was connected to the royal palace and the sudden rush of bodies confirmed the fact. Jett turned on his jetpack and leapt across the room, tossing a grenade at the open doorway before taking cover behind the stone fountain and pool walls with Dubja. The explosion rocked the room and took several of the guards out of the fight. The pair continued to fire into the remains of the crowd while the stone chipped away around them from the return fire. Grazes seared the pair’s flesh, but they kept up their attack.

Tahnel’s muscles rippled under his robes while the hacked away at guards with his lightsaber. Each hit was more devastating than the last as he made his way from guard to guard, killing each one in turn. A blaster bolt was about to hit the force user, but he held out his hand and used the force to absorb the shot.

Re’ahn danced around each guard as she slashed with her lightsaber. Seeing their movements in her mind through use of the force she could dodge their attacks with ease. However, her attacks had trouble finding their mark as she was seemingly playing with her opponents.

It was not long before the cacophony of destruction was over and the room was washed over in a wave of silence. The four warriors took a moment to catch their breath. All that lay before them was the large set of durasteel double doors that had protected the throne room from the battle.

A voice from Tahnel’s captured comm unit broke the silence. “What is going on out there?” the voice demanded.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

'The Dog Who Stopped the War' Review

***1/2 Out of ***** While I am not concerned with the fact that this is an english dubbed version as some reviewers have mentioned, it should be noted, as it seems to reside in many Quebecois native hearts. However, this was a movie as a child that I was a fervent admirer of; keeping in mind now that it was made for children, I rate it on a relative basis. The story is of children on winter break building an awesome snow fort, and jostling back-'n-forth for control with weapons such as snowballs and other unique concoctions, as idle hands and free time equal winter break lessons. If I had children, this definitely is a film I would try and get them interested in, as the snow fort wowed me when I was young, and I think even children today would agree, albeit with Pixar and all the computer animation, maybe I am out of date and just don't realize it. In addition, the movie's message is wonderfully allegorical and a positive one at that, for children (and adults alike).

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Singing For Our Lives

“Where are we off to now,” Mike slurred as he stumbled onto the sidewalk from the bar’s doorway.

“Man, that’s up to you,” Frank replied as he followed his friend into the night air. After thinking for a bit he added, “It’s your birthday after all.”

The pair walked half a block in silence, the gears in their heads slowly turning. “How about I.S. Surley’s?” Mike asked.

“Eh, their pool table has a lean to it,” Frank retorted then added, “how about O’Leary’s?”

“Drank to much whiskey last night. Red Satin?”

“Last time we were there I was hit on by a dude. Donald’s?”

“They don’t serve food. Red Roundabout?”

It’s shitty band for ten bucks night. Magma Mark’s?”

The conversation continued in this fashion for a block and a half before, in a flash of genius, Mike stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened as his lips stumbled while trying to form the words that his brain was trying to generate. “Me… You… Now… Karaoke!” Frank agreed and the pair rushed the two blocks to the Karaoke Klub.

That is how the pair arrived at the karaoke bar, on the stage with a microphone in their hands. A wild birthday night that left them singing for their lives.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

'Nietzsche and the Nazis' Review

***/***** This is a documentary in which the camera barely pans or zooms and consists of Professor Stephen Hicks lecturing directly to the lens with varying backdrops and is intermittently spliced with historical photographs or art works from the time of the Renaissance. It's best broken down and seen in its three parts, as it's very dense and comprehensive, they include: 1) National Socialism (and Collectivism vs. individualism) philosophy and how the Nazis took over democratic Germany in early '33, 2) Nietzsche's background and works such as 'Beyond Good and Evil' and 'The Will to Power', and 3) arguments for and against how/if he influenced Nazism. The first part is an excellent and thorough explanation of how a country slowly fell into a horrendous situation. Moreover, a lot of the info on Nietzsche and his philosophy is good too, however, Hicks fails to mention how Nietzsche's sister Elisabeth Förster-Nietzsche manipulated some of his last unpublished work, 'The Will to Power', changing lines, adding text and rearranging the chronology to appease members of the Nazi party. In the '60's, Mazzino Montinari and Giorgio Colli reaarranged and put back chronologically what was Nietzsche's final work, seemingly, and maybe Hick's argument is from this reference edition, however, the fact he fails to even mention this relationship with his sister to the Nazis renders his argument philosophically weak. He argues in philosophical terms, so it is legitimate to henceforth critique it so; it is the Informal Fallacy of False Cause. I will be generous on this one with six stars just 'cause the first two hours are very interesting. The third could be called highly questionable.

Monday, September 01, 2008

Random Bar Poems

Darkest night
Brightest light
Why can’t it just end?
Or at least just mend

The bar is still
But I am not
I am a restless sprit
I want to roam
I need to roam
I need excitement
Some where other then here
Somewhere else then here
I am gone
I vanish
Into the night
Away from the drunken revelry
Into the night
I disappear

When I make an ass of myself
Which is quite often
It is not intentional
I did not mean it
All that I do,
is ask for your forgiveness
It is all that I can do,
when I am in this state
Please listen to me
You are the only one
Please listen to me
Only you can
I love you
For ever
And always