Uncategorized

On Michael Brown and Bullshit Outrage

Yeah, yeah, Michael Brown and other victims of police violence, blah blah blah.

What about the thousands of random victims of gang-violence? People who were assaulted or murdered just so a kid could get a kinda cool tattoo supporting the gang or the right tovsling dope on the corner? The thousands of non-black people harassed and harmed by police annually? ANYONE who is treated unjustly? One kid in a fucking riot dies and the police are just now getting attention? This really is a bullshit country. If you aren’t offended by the everyday happenings of the average american, then you are missing the real cause of these police abuses. Stupid Americans being stupid lead to stupid cops being stupid. Nobody knows any better and we can only think of violence as a solution. Instead of blaming anyone, why not take the opportunity to become someone who would never get shot by a cop?

besides, race is really not that big of a factor, when you consider 23/1000 people PER SQUARE MILE in East Saint Louis are murdered. No outrage for that, by the way. If you live in some areas of the city, your odds of being a victim of violent crime are over 1:15. No cry for mercy from gangs or stricter police monitoring in these truly dangerous places?

No, a kid in a violent riot getting shot was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Bullshit humanitarianism. I. notice no one compared this to Tiananmen square. That was a real example of abuse of power

Quit making the cops look like the /only/ bad guys in America. This country has a severe case of bloodlust combined with a healthy dose of idgaf. If racial bias in a crime is your only reason for raging against it, fuck you. All crime is hate crime, all violence is bred from ignorance, and all this silliness comes from the fact that a white cop shot a black kid.

I haven’t lived in STL for a while and this is just what I get from Fb  and the news. But I can’t figure out why it matters unless it’s a racial offense.

Hate me, un-friend me, call me a troll.  I don’t care. If you aren’t outraged at all the bastards who commit violence against truly innocent victims, I posit that you don’t have the right to get mad when a violent riot leads to a single death, no matter how innocent or guilty. Get off your politically correct ass and make us a country, q citizenry that deserves the respect it demands. Jesus, America, have you fallen so far that you don’t see yourself for what you are?

Dumb.

Advertisements
Standard
Style, Uncategorized

Magic: the Gathering Flavor text

This is just a compilation of flavor texts from cards that I really enjoy for any number of reasons. Those of you who follow the game will notice that I’ve been playing a long time, as some of the flavor texts are a form that is no longer allowed (stemming from the real world)


 

“Our war is against suffering, not against those who cause it” – Samite Creed

“Everyone deserves a chance to live.  My job is to make sure they get it.”

Just as each added feather steadies the wing, so does the flock grow stronger with each new member.

“Believe in the ideal, not the idol” – Serra

Justice flies swiftly on angry wings.

Though those who study are as many as the hairs on an ox, those who succeed are as rare as unicorns’ horns – Chinese Proverb

Wisdom is not the counting of all the drops in a waterfall.  Wisdom is learning why the water seeks the Earth

With natural laws abandoned, excess thrives.

Before tyrants or torturers, there was evil.

All ends in obliteration – love in hatred, life in death, and light in empty darkness

The spirit of the flame is the spirit of change.

Anger is fleeting; remorse is eternal.

Every act of destruction has a repercussion

“Do not fear adversity.  Let your courage be your strength”

“Because I am incapable of tears does not mean I have no need to shed them”

At times, survival must outweigh all other considerations

“For those of courage, even the sky holds no limits”

The one who dies with the most toys is still dead.

“The sword is just a tool.  It is the hand that delivers death”

“Friends teach what you want to know.  Enemies teach what you need to know.”

“The wise pay as much attention to what they throw away as to what they keep.”

“In Memories, we can find our deepest reserves of strength”

“In dark times, truth bears a blade.”

“People only say ‘I’m sure it was nothing’ when they are sure it was something”

“Spontaneous combustion is a myth.  If you burst into flames, someone wanted you to.” – Chandra Nalaar

“How blessed are some people, whose lives have  no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.” – Bram Stoker, Dracula

“Not every thought is a good one.”

“The First step to peace is to learn how to forget.”

“Those who claim to know the world in its entirety rarely have the requisite perspective” – Ulmarus the Wise

“The fatal flaw in every plan is the assumption that you know more than your enemy”

“The only blow that matters is the killing blow”

“When civilization reaches out its greedy hand, take it off at the wrist” – Garruk Wildspeaker

“The Finest Maneuvers take place in three dimensions”

“Wars are not fought on a single front.”

“Masters of the sword know the blade is not the only weapon at their disposal.”

“Nothing’s more valuable than perfect timing.”

“Wounds of the flesh are easy to heal. Wounds of the mind may never be undone.”

“Tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today”

“’Invincible’ is just a word” –Gideon Jura

Standard
daily, flash fiction, Over 500

Another Magic-themed Writing

It begins with a murder investigation.  I was hired by a client to look into the murder of her sister.  It was a routine job with the usual procedures.  I talked to my police contacts, I poked my nose in a few dank holes, and I came up with the man I thought  caused the death.  The police had already cleared him so, I took it upon myself to confront him and see if I couldn’t trip the man up, get a confession out of him.

Well, to put it plainly, that didn’t work well.  I found myself diving over my red Hyundai, gun in hand.  I carry a Heckler and Koch .45 longslide.  Don’t ask me why; I don’t really know much about guns. This one was a gift from a nut job who had need of my services.  Anyway, once the bullets started ricocheting off the car, I leapt out to the south and fired off three rounds.  The punk screamed out, “Shit, you got me!” and fell to the ground.  Upon checking the body, I saw that two rounds had hit him center of mass.   What’s more, his pockets were full.  I scoured the body hesitantly.  I hate death since my Awakening. I’ve learned enough in the world of magic to know that killing isn’t the wisest decision you could make.  Even people who deserve it… I know better than to take another’s life into my own hands.

Anyway, I looted the body, gathering up a nice little burner phone, $62, a lighter, and a knife.  The phone revealed a couple of text messages confirming that he was in fact the killer I had been seeking. That was a relief.  As I was preparing to perform some minor magic on the phone, I got that goosebump feeling.  The unseen sense alerted me to some kind of magic.  It’s never a good sign when there is sudden active magic around you.  I took a deep breath and tightened my core. As I breathed out, I allowed my essence to follow my breath, filling the area with my own aura.  I believe this particular sight is called “Supernal Vision” within the pentacle.  In the southeast corner, there was the flow of magic, an aura intentionally being flared.  I pointed my gun in that direction, even knowing that bullets were of little value in these situations.

 I checked around for any source of electricity and found one of those metal pipes that connected several outlets.  The corner was too dark to see but, the piping ran in that direction so, I decided to go for it. I channeled the current towards the dark, hoping there would be an outlet nearby and, lo and behold, there was.  I didn’t manage to startle or even shock the target but, he did in fact reveal himself to be a elderly gent. His most blatant feature, his bushy moustache, struck me as silly in its cartoonish, Yosemite Sam appearance. Of course, as anyone with the clearance to read this document knows, his moustache does nothing to detract from his soigné. Before the Old Man, I had never actually been approached by someone with such distinguished and refined tastes, not the least of which was his trademark cane.  That ornate golden design, which I now know to be a mark of the Guardians of the Veil, was only trumped in beauty by the precious bloodstone that topped the cane, shaped to a perfect sphere.

“Mr. Valiant, we are rather impressed with your work.  Your former mentor suggested you would be a great asset to our Order. As such, I have been asked to offer you a retainer.” I shivered as he stated my true last name, and my mentor.

“What for?”  I asked plainly, cautiously.
“A long term project…  I think you will find it very beneficial to say yes.”

Standard
flash fiction, Style, Under 500

Next time, just call 911 or something

I go to the local library and check out a few books. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d seen them. But on second glance, I realized the black shelf contained only a handful of old, leather-bound books. I picked one up and skipped in a few pages. I’d hardly ever seen this runic language in my lifetime.

Carrying the book, time seems to fly past. Yet upon arriving home, minutes become hours. Reading the material increases the velocity of my thoughts and my lucidity. Eventually, I reach the conclusion that the runes are not only extinct, but ciphered. Hours poured into the analysis of a single page. In the end, only one end can be reached. The book describes a gesture and an incantation. Performing the ritual, I open a window in space.

The experience blows me away. I watch businessmen sing karaoke in a Tokyo bar, then African tribes at war. Next, the window takes me to Europe, where a radical IRA cell plans an attack on a British-owned hospital. In that moment, the power at my disposal becomes apparent. I must stop anyone who would so callously take innocent lives in the masque of a political cause.

As I read further through the book, I learn of a way to reach through this window. With another spell, it becomes a door a door. The soldiers see me and immediately pointed their guns. The apparent fusion of two points in space disorients them as much as it does me. One thinks to throw a grenade. I close the door and open the window just in time to watch the grenade land in their house and explode.

I’ve never seen men lose limbs, burn in agony… their house must have been an explosives cache, as the thing practically disintegrated and not one man was left a complete body. I close the window before it is made clear if any survived. The image will haunt me forever. I know now the dangers of the power at my disposal, and why a wizard should never utilize his magic before trying a mundane solution to his problems.

Standard