Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Is It Just Me?
Or do those cardboard cup holders they give you to carry coffee and other beverages smell funny!? Seriously. Canadians, next time you go to Timmies and get a few coffee's smell your hand afterward. Those things smell really strange...I'm all for recycling but does it have to make my hand smell like farts?
Monday, December 13, 2010
Something to Think About
I'm currently reading the "Otherland" series by Tad Williams. It is a quadrilogy set slightly into the future and the world in which they live is no unlike our own. Much of the world is now modernized and urbanized and internet has become a second world. And of course just like the real world the virtual reality of the net is a society based on ability, likes and dislikes and of course wealth. The quality of your equipment limits the experiences you can have on the net and there is an "Inner City" where the very wealthy have their own secluded part of the net.
What's extremely interesting is the amount of business done on the net in these books. Most things are purchased online and an incredible amount of free time as well. Just as I might come home from work to play Xbox for an hour or surf the net, this society actually 'plugs' into the net and they are able to manipulate their bodies to create and destroy, play and to shop.
Online indiscretions are punished in the real world very severly. Identity thefts, vandalism, business disruption, and theft are all crimes that happens every day in the society. Net priviledges of the individual or individuals are tracker and removed and often these people serve actual jail time under UN-sanctioned laws for net use.
There are consequences in our society for the same things but they really have only emerged since the internet became popular in the 1990's. It's pretty rare that someone faces serious jail time for something they do on the internet today. A few weeks back I read an online article about a man who I believe lived in Iran, he was on Facebook and decided that he was going to create a page for "God." He added many friends and started promoting things like unprotected and unmarried sex and the smoking of marrijuana. Authorities tracked down this individual and he is now in prison what will likely be the rest of his life.
The online article had a statement from this young man's mothe rand she said that she hopes he stays in jail his entire life for she fears if he gets out he will be brutally killed.
This is probably a more extreme case than we can expect to see in the West but my point is that the internet is becoming a much for serious place. I wonder if it will ever reach the level of Otherland in my lifetime. I'm not going to be the one to say that it won't, especially with how incredibly much it has changed in my short lifetime.
What's extremely interesting is the amount of business done on the net in these books. Most things are purchased online and an incredible amount of free time as well. Just as I might come home from work to play Xbox for an hour or surf the net, this society actually 'plugs' into the net and they are able to manipulate their bodies to create and destroy, play and to shop.
Online indiscretions are punished in the real world very severly. Identity thefts, vandalism, business disruption, and theft are all crimes that happens every day in the society. Net priviledges of the individual or individuals are tracker and removed and often these people serve actual jail time under UN-sanctioned laws for net use.
There are consequences in our society for the same things but they really have only emerged since the internet became popular in the 1990's. It's pretty rare that someone faces serious jail time for something they do on the internet today. A few weeks back I read an online article about a man who I believe lived in Iran, he was on Facebook and decided that he was going to create a page for "God." He added many friends and started promoting things like unprotected and unmarried sex and the smoking of marrijuana. Authorities tracked down this individual and he is now in prison what will likely be the rest of his life.
The online article had a statement from this young man's mothe rand she said that she hopes he stays in jail his entire life for she fears if he gets out he will be brutally killed.
This is probably a more extreme case than we can expect to see in the West but my point is that the internet is becoming a much for serious place. I wonder if it will ever reach the level of Otherland in my lifetime. I'm not going to be the one to say that it won't, especially with how incredibly much it has changed in my short lifetime.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Poll Results #2
So my friends we find ourselves in the month of December and most of you who read this are probably groaning as you look out the window to see how cold and possibly snowy it is outside. Currently it's -2 degrees celsius outside and snowing. Oh Canada in December...I know you're jealous, I just know you are.
But what the end of November means is also the end of the monthly poll. The question this month was: "do you have a video game system?"
The majority of you answered yes, only one lonely person voted that they did not have a video game system. To you my friend I wish you luck. For the best of the rest we had Xbox 360 coming in with 4 votes, Handheld Gaming Platform's with 3 votes, the Nintendo Wii with 2, PC garnered one supporter and the PS3 had no voters, the only option not to receive a vote.
Being an Xbox 360 owner and a Nintendo DS co-owner (Miss McGoo and I share it) I must say I am pleased with the results. I consider myself a bit of a Wiitard so I'm glad that it didn't beat to the two systems I have although it came close.
Video games are certainly an interesting part of our culture in Canada and certainly in the U.S., Europe and Japan. They have only been introduced into a large percentage of the populations' households in the last twenty years. I know it was always something growing up that I was involved in and it certainly is still something I like to do when I'm just mossin' at home with nothin' to do. I hope you all spend some time away from your various consoles this holiday season and spend some time with friends and family.
And on that note please check out the new poll for the month of December.
Press on Fearless Reader
P.S. Miss Mcgoo I know you're reading this somewhere, just wanted to let you know option three was just for you baby!...you know...cause you never can decide :D!
Zulu Whiskey out
But what the end of November means is also the end of the monthly poll. The question this month was: "do you have a video game system?"
The majority of you answered yes, only one lonely person voted that they did not have a video game system. To you my friend I wish you luck. For the best of the rest we had Xbox 360 coming in with 4 votes, Handheld Gaming Platform's with 3 votes, the Nintendo Wii with 2, PC garnered one supporter and the PS3 had no voters, the only option not to receive a vote.
Being an Xbox 360 owner and a Nintendo DS co-owner (Miss McGoo and I share it) I must say I am pleased with the results. I consider myself a bit of a Wiitard so I'm glad that it didn't beat to the two systems I have although it came close.
Video games are certainly an interesting part of our culture in Canada and certainly in the U.S., Europe and Japan. They have only been introduced into a large percentage of the populations' households in the last twenty years. I know it was always something growing up that I was involved in and it certainly is still something I like to do when I'm just mossin' at home with nothin' to do. I hope you all spend some time away from your various consoles this holiday season and spend some time with friends and family.
And on that note please check out the new poll for the month of December.
Press on Fearless Reader
P.S. Miss Mcgoo I know you're reading this somewhere, just wanted to let you know option three was just for you baby!...you know...cause you never can decide :D!
Zulu Whiskey out
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Dragonflies
Here's a short story that I thought of today. I know it's not my usual stuff I hope you like it. As always looking for your comments Fearless Reader so don't be shy!
When I was about six or seven my grandmother died. It was the first death I had ever experienced that was deeply personal to me. When I stood before the casket I didn't cry, I furrowed my brow and was struggling with the concept of never seeing someone who had been in my life ever since I could remember.
I approached my Mom and asked her if I would ever see Grandma again. She told me something that I carried with me.
"You will sweetheart. You won't see the grandma you're used to but she will visit you again. Honey, Grandma has gone to heaven and when that happens your body leaves too. But when I was a little girl you're age my Momma told me that the people who mean the most to us come back to visit us even when they go to heaven. You see God doesn't want us to spend our lives alone, he sends our loved ones back to us as dragonflies," she said.
"Mommy how can that be? Grandma was too big to fit inside of a little dragonfly," I stated matter-of-factly with my hands on my hips.
"Baby not all of Grandma goes inside the dragonfly. Just her soul, the part of her that you loved most, all the best things about Grandma," she told me then patted me on the back. She walked away then and the rest of the day I don't really remember much. I spent most of it thinking about what my Mom had told me.
I hadn't thought about that for a numbers of years, because the next time I remember thinking about it was yesterday. I'm now eighteen and since my Grandmother's death I haven't had to experience any other close family deaths until two months ago.
You see my father was a career soldier. Spent his whole life there, until the day he died. He met my mother while on leave in Alberta and she came east with him to Ontario after spending four weeks without seperating. They had fallen madly in love and got married and shortly after that Mom started a coffee shop, she still owns and operates to this day. But Daddy was an army man. Loved it, thought what he was doing was a real difference maker. He told me that what they don't show on the news is the suffering of the people who live in other places around the world. There are a lot of places that aren't as amazing as ours. He told me that he was fighting so that they would have a chance to maybe have something better, something like what we have at home. He said he was fighting to keep the bad people away from his home, from his country.
Two months ago I got a call from his commanding officer. He had been killed while rescuing a group of trapped civilians and battered friendly troops from a Taliban assualt in a city in Afghanistan. I lost my hero. I wept on the phone with his commander. I couldn't help it. I had lost a mentor, a friend, an advisor and most of all a father.
This morning I was sitting on my deck sipping a coffee and watching the sunrise and I felt something land on my wrist. I went to swat it instinctively but when I looked down I saw a dazzling red and orange dragonfly. He sat there and seemed to look at me and moved his wings up and down like he was stretching them. The early sunlight was catching the brilliance of his colour and made him look even more majestic and fantastic.
I cried this morning. I wept as I looked at that dragonfly on my wrist. It sat with me for what seemed like hours but was really only minutes.
"I love you so much Daddy," I said the words I didn't had the opportunity to say. With a few more beats of it's wings the dragonfly lept up and flew away towards the rising sun.
Perhaps he had come down from heaven, to tell me he loved me one last time, to give me peace. To say goodbye.
DRAGONFLIES
When I was about six or seven my grandmother died. It was the first death I had ever experienced that was deeply personal to me. When I stood before the casket I didn't cry, I furrowed my brow and was struggling with the concept of never seeing someone who had been in my life ever since I could remember.
I approached my Mom and asked her if I would ever see Grandma again. She told me something that I carried with me.
"You will sweetheart. You won't see the grandma you're used to but she will visit you again. Honey, Grandma has gone to heaven and when that happens your body leaves too. But when I was a little girl you're age my Momma told me that the people who mean the most to us come back to visit us even when they go to heaven. You see God doesn't want us to spend our lives alone, he sends our loved ones back to us as dragonflies," she said.
"Mommy how can that be? Grandma was too big to fit inside of a little dragonfly," I stated matter-of-factly with my hands on my hips.
"Baby not all of Grandma goes inside the dragonfly. Just her soul, the part of her that you loved most, all the best things about Grandma," she told me then patted me on the back. She walked away then and the rest of the day I don't really remember much. I spent most of it thinking about what my Mom had told me.
I hadn't thought about that for a numbers of years, because the next time I remember thinking about it was yesterday. I'm now eighteen and since my Grandmother's death I haven't had to experience any other close family deaths until two months ago.
You see my father was a career soldier. Spent his whole life there, until the day he died. He met my mother while on leave in Alberta and she came east with him to Ontario after spending four weeks without seperating. They had fallen madly in love and got married and shortly after that Mom started a coffee shop, she still owns and operates to this day. But Daddy was an army man. Loved it, thought what he was doing was a real difference maker. He told me that what they don't show on the news is the suffering of the people who live in other places around the world. There are a lot of places that aren't as amazing as ours. He told me that he was fighting so that they would have a chance to maybe have something better, something like what we have at home. He said he was fighting to keep the bad people away from his home, from his country.
Two months ago I got a call from his commanding officer. He had been killed while rescuing a group of trapped civilians and battered friendly troops from a Taliban assualt in a city in Afghanistan. I lost my hero. I wept on the phone with his commander. I couldn't help it. I had lost a mentor, a friend, an advisor and most of all a father.
This morning I was sitting on my deck sipping a coffee and watching the sunrise and I felt something land on my wrist. I went to swat it instinctively but when I looked down I saw a dazzling red and orange dragonfly. He sat there and seemed to look at me and moved his wings up and down like he was stretching them. The early sunlight was catching the brilliance of his colour and made him look even more majestic and fantastic.
I cried this morning. I wept as I looked at that dragonfly on my wrist. It sat with me for what seemed like hours but was really only minutes.
"I love you so much Daddy," I said the words I didn't had the opportunity to say. With a few more beats of it's wings the dragonfly lept up and flew away towards the rising sun.
Perhaps he had come down from heaven, to tell me he loved me one last time, to give me peace. To say goodbye.
Sad but True
The rumours are true, totally substantiated. The Stache was trash and it got shaved. True story. End of story.
Your Folically Challenged Zombie Warrior
Your Folically Challenged Zombie Warrior
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Yeah I Went There...AGAIN!
Captain's log star date eleven, eighteen, two thousand and ten. I have been growing my moustache now for nearly three weeks and it is still but a shadow on upper lip. I wish to shave it but fear that I have commited to it's demands and must obey it's power until it's control weakens in eleven days. Until then I must bear it's burden. Eleven more days. Then I shall shave it and banish it from whence it came. The saddest part is that I'm pretty sure there is a woman in my office whose moustache is better than mine...I don't know who should be more ashamed.
This is Zulu Whiskey signing off.
This is Zulu Whiskey signing off.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Like We Haven't Heard That Before!
Just a quick rant before I sign off for the day. Brett Favre of the Minnesota Vikings has "vowed" this week that this season will be his last. If you follow the NFL you will remember Brett's retirement from the Green Bay Packers a few years ago, then the New York Jets and last year's promise that he was done after playing with the Minnesota Vikings...and then this year again. Same story.
Brett maybe you should just say that you'll make a decision at the end of the season. Wade Phillips knows that mid-season statements don't count for shit anyway. Right Wade?
Fifteen Greatest Film Series'
Lately I've been downloading some movies and I really forgot about a number of amazing films series.
I love a good trilogy or series because it allows you to become far more connected with the characters than in a one off film. Occasionally you are able to follow one epic story over the course of a series that could not be appropriately told in a shorter period of time. I thought I would throw out some of my favourite movie series. Feel free to comment your own, these are definitely just a list of my own favourites. Let me reface this list by saying this is not in any particular order, just as they are coming to mind.
1. James Bond 007 series. This is a no-brainer if you've read my 007 post from last year. Definitely one of the most iconic action heroes whose adventures span the globe, who reputation is always sterling and who always takes his martini shaken not stirred.
2. The Matrix Trilogy. Definitely a huge deal in the early 00's, the story of Neo, Morpheus, Trinity and Agent Smith is a modern classic. A story of good and evil and humanity's fight against extermination against machines. Definitely an interesting metaphor for the grip technology holds on us, definitely more evident now more than ever.
3. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Probably my favourite movie saga. Frodo's quest to destroy the one ring was wrought with epic battles, great friendships and betrayals. One of the things I like best about these films is the cast, every actor was such a good fit for the character he was portraying. I expect these movies will be remade in my life time...could it ever be as good as the first time?
4. Terminator series. Another great story of man fighting against machine. A great story of technology we creating turning against us. You are a liar if you've never said, "I'll be back." Arnold does an amazing job in the first three films and the fourth is worth watching but definitely vastly different from what had happened in the original trilogy.
5. Die Hard series. The original Die Hard is one of, if not the best action films of all time. Bruce Willis as the wise-cracking NYPD detective John McClane is iconic, as is his awesome tagline from the first movie "yippee ki yay motherfucker!" Rumour has it that Bruce wants to end the series with a sixth film, the fifth is scheduled to start filming next year.
6. Rambo series. A theme of some of these series seems to be an original trilogy then a fourth many years after the third. The Rambo films are in that category, definitely action classics, the original Rambo being the best as is also a trend.
7. Rocky series. Silvester Stallone again in a huge series that spans four decades. The Philly never-say-never boxer with no-name Rocky Balboa fights in six installments. Once you watch one you have to watch the whole series to follow the dynamic character through his up's and down's even though none of the films reach the greatness achieved by the first film.
8. The Godfather Trilogy. A film series that I fear will not be relevant to the next generation. These classics are probably considered the best film trilogy ever made. Al Pacino is incredible in these movies and without a doubt immortalizes himself in the hearts and minds of all who have watched these movies. Any movie where a decapitated horse head ends up in a guy's bed while he's sleeping is bound to be great.
9. The Man With No Name trilogy. Clint Eastwood stars in these three westerns about "the man with no name." The classic "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," is the legendary finale to this epic story.
10. Star Wars series. The first trilogy in this series was actually chronologically after the second trilogy. The original three spawned a pop culture spin off in every media outlet and a multi-billion dollar franchise. Although the second trilogy falls well short of the first three films these are definitely worth a watch both chronologically and in the order they came out.
11. Jurassic Park trilogy. Steven Spielberg directs these movies that take place in a fantasy world in which dinosaurs have been cloned and exist in our time. Based upon the Michael Crichton novels these films have a cool factor that movies without dinosaurs just can't match.
12. Austin Powers trilogy. The first comedy movies on the list, these movies are friggin' hilarious! Mike Myers absolutely rules as the "king of shag" in these films where some of the funniest scenes include him starring opposite himself.
13. Mission Impossible trilogy. Tom Cruise as super-agent Ethan Hawk is returning to the silver screen next year in a fourth film. Each film is vastly different from each other and definitely sets a different tone. All three are great fun to watch.
14. The Bourne Trilogy. Three films based on fantastic novels written by thriller legend, Robert Ludlum. Matt Damon plays Jason Bourne, an ex CIA assassin and agent as he struggles to dig up his dark past. true fans of this series pray that the god awful books written after Ludlum's death never make it onto the big screen.
15. Alien/Predator series. I was going to go with just Alien but the amalgamated AVP films were great in their own right. Although probably receiving more of a cult following than the rest of the films on this list, all the Alien and Predator movies have been a staple of my movie diet.
Did I miss your favourite? All the films I've talked about should make it onto your "must-see" list if they are not already there or have no been there for years already. Settle yourself down on a rainy day and spend some time Fearless Reader.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
We Remember...
On this November 11/10 I hope everyone found the chance to stop what they were doing and remember. After all today is Remembrance Day. If you haven't already had the opportunity at work or school then perhaps you should take a moment now.
Remembrance Day is still relevant. No ifs ands or buts. We need to remember those who gave their lives, those years ago and those recently.
Peace and love
Remembrance Day is still relevant. No ifs ands or buts. We need to remember those who gave their lives, those years ago and those recently.
Peace and love
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat Feedback
My Fearless Readers:
So far there haven't been any comments left for the short story entitled Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat. I am looking for some feedback as this is the first short story I have undertaken in about a year and a half. The title is latin and means: fortune favours the brave (depending on the translation can substitute brave for bold). Part Three took me about three and a half weeks to complete. Both it and Part Four are as I have written them, there will be spelling and grammatical errors but I needed to publish the end of the story after such a long time as a draft. I will be revising both parts when I am able to review it.
Thoughts, questions or comments regarding this short story?
As always, slicin' 'n' dicin'
So far there haven't been any comments left for the short story entitled Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat. I am looking for some feedback as this is the first short story I have undertaken in about a year and a half. The title is latin and means: fortune favours the brave (depending on the translation can substitute brave for bold). Part Three took me about three and a half weeks to complete. Both it and Part Four are as I have written them, there will be spelling and grammatical errors but I needed to publish the end of the story after such a long time as a draft. I will be revising both parts when I am able to review it.
Thoughts, questions or comments regarding this short story?
As always, slicin' 'n' dicin'
Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat IV
Part Four: The Aftermath
The Legate Mario Flavius was riding at the head of his legion. At his side was a young carpenter's apprentice named Calvus was at his side. The young man had demanded an audience with the Legate a few days before and had advised him that there was a massive horde of zombii that had attacked the fort garrisoned by Commander Larcius. The youth's testament of what had happened was supported by about thirty men who had been sent as various skilled workers and labourers on the fort.
Legate Flavius was not an ornory man nor was he a fool and he called to arms the legion under his command and they were underway the next morning. That had been two days ago. They were now approaching a smouldering ruin. What had once been a Roman fort was now ashes and smoking timbers and the stench was unlike anythink the Legate had ever smelled. One didn't become a Legate without first experiencing the taste of war but this was not the smell of any battle he could remember.
As they spurred their horses forward and the legion deployed behind them in a defensive position the Legate, Calvus and a small cadre of men on horseback rode forward to determine what had happened to the fort. Legate Mario Flavius had a sudden ache in his gut as he considered that zombii's were not creatures capable of buring down a fort and feared for a moment that this was a trap elaborately executed to bring his legion into an ambush. However his logic took over when he considered that his advance scouts had found nothing but the burning fort hours earlier and were still patrolling the surrounding country. The horses began to protest and they were forced to dismount and continue of foot. All of them covered their noses to block out the horrid smell. The acrid smoke was at least dissapating after what had obviously been an intense blaze.
"What happened here?" The Legate asked out loud. The question was not directed at anyone and he received no answer. Everywhere he could see scorched armour and charred bones. There was a massive amount of timber scattered on the ground, obviously the whole store had been lost to the hungry flames. There was oil too, it was contributing to the awful choking stench. "Someone burned this place to the ground," The Legate said looking back at Calvus. The boy had a helmet in his hand. It was badly scarred and it's horsehair crest had long ago been burnt off but it would have been the helmet of the Commander Larcius. In it was a skull, it was also burnt but had been protected by the helmet from completely burning up in the fire.
"They were here. Thousands of zombii's...they must have found a way to kill them all..." the boy said looking down at his grotesque tricket.
The Legate ordered the skulls to be counted and the helmets as well and they did find that there were over two thousand skulls amoung the rubble and ash. Armour for the full detachment of men was also discovered as well. The Legate officially issued the destruction of the fort as a mystery in his report to the Emperor. The unexplainable nature of what happened was not made any easier when all the tribes and villages of the surrounding area were abandoned. There was no further inquiry made into the event and no further expedition was sent into that territory. The young carpenter's apprentice took the only memorial away from that burnt field. The scorched helmet of a Roman Commander.
Epilogue:
The tavern was full of men and women of many different languages and races. It is always such in a port city and the servant girl carried two bottles of wine to the table with the three Roman looking men and the three Slavic looking men. As she poured the wine into their glasses she considered the odd nature of their appearance, strong builds but with weary eyes and travel dirtier clothes. Mercenaries? She dismissed the thought and walked away from the table as the biggest of the Roman's with the dark hair and the beard raised his glass to the others.
"To our Commander Laricus, he burned and died so that we could live. No greater sacrifice has ever been made. He was my best friend. Viktor..."
It was one of the Slavic men that returned the sentiment, a rather rough looking fellow that said, "I could say no more than you Ruffus, I intended to live my life, his gift to us as he would have wanted us to. Let's drink."
"To Laricus," all six men echoed as the servant girl moved out of earshot. Another group of old war horses drinking to a lost comrade-in-arms. There was certainly nothing out of the ordinary about that.
The Legate Mario Flavius was riding at the head of his legion. At his side was a young carpenter's apprentice named Calvus was at his side. The young man had demanded an audience with the Legate a few days before and had advised him that there was a massive horde of zombii that had attacked the fort garrisoned by Commander Larcius. The youth's testament of what had happened was supported by about thirty men who had been sent as various skilled workers and labourers on the fort.
Legate Flavius was not an ornory man nor was he a fool and he called to arms the legion under his command and they were underway the next morning. That had been two days ago. They were now approaching a smouldering ruin. What had once been a Roman fort was now ashes and smoking timbers and the stench was unlike anythink the Legate had ever smelled. One didn't become a Legate without first experiencing the taste of war but this was not the smell of any battle he could remember.
As they spurred their horses forward and the legion deployed behind them in a defensive position the Legate, Calvus and a small cadre of men on horseback rode forward to determine what had happened to the fort. Legate Mario Flavius had a sudden ache in his gut as he considered that zombii's were not creatures capable of buring down a fort and feared for a moment that this was a trap elaborately executed to bring his legion into an ambush. However his logic took over when he considered that his advance scouts had found nothing but the burning fort hours earlier and were still patrolling the surrounding country. The horses began to protest and they were forced to dismount and continue of foot. All of them covered their noses to block out the horrid smell. The acrid smoke was at least dissapating after what had obviously been an intense blaze.
"What happened here?" The Legate asked out loud. The question was not directed at anyone and he received no answer. Everywhere he could see scorched armour and charred bones. There was a massive amount of timber scattered on the ground, obviously the whole store had been lost to the hungry flames. There was oil too, it was contributing to the awful choking stench. "Someone burned this place to the ground," The Legate said looking back at Calvus. The boy had a helmet in his hand. It was badly scarred and it's horsehair crest had long ago been burnt off but it would have been the helmet of the Commander Larcius. In it was a skull, it was also burnt but had been protected by the helmet from completely burning up in the fire.
"They were here. Thousands of zombii's...they must have found a way to kill them all..." the boy said looking down at his grotesque tricket.
The Legate ordered the skulls to be counted and the helmets as well and they did find that there were over two thousand skulls amoung the rubble and ash. Armour for the full detachment of men was also discovered as well. The Legate officially issued the destruction of the fort as a mystery in his report to the Emperor. The unexplainable nature of what happened was not made any easier when all the tribes and villages of the surrounding area were abandoned. There was no further inquiry made into the event and no further expedition was sent into that territory. The young carpenter's apprentice took the only memorial away from that burnt field. The scorched helmet of a Roman Commander.
Epilogue:
The tavern was full of men and women of many different languages and races. It is always such in a port city and the servant girl carried two bottles of wine to the table with the three Roman looking men and the three Slavic looking men. As she poured the wine into their glasses she considered the odd nature of their appearance, strong builds but with weary eyes and travel dirtier clothes. Mercenaries? She dismissed the thought and walked away from the table as the biggest of the Roman's with the dark hair and the beard raised his glass to the others.
"To our Commander Laricus, he burned and died so that we could live. No greater sacrifice has ever been made. He was my best friend. Viktor..."
It was one of the Slavic men that returned the sentiment, a rather rough looking fellow that said, "I could say no more than you Ruffus, I intended to live my life, his gift to us as he would have wanted us to. Let's drink."
"To Laricus," all six men echoed as the servant girl moved out of earshot. Another group of old war horses drinking to a lost comrade-in-arms. There was certainly nothing out of the ordinary about that.
Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat III
Part Three: The Battle
The horizon was filled with an army of the dead. Even from several hundred feet away Larcius could spot some uniforms of the men he had lost yesterday. He had three hundred foot soldiers, fifty archers and probably about two hundred able-bodied men who could wield a sword and shield if they had to within the fort and able to fight.
The early morning sun was bright and strong and it penetrated into the desnse forest that surrounded the fort completely, save for the road to the east and the one leading west from the fort. If they were to stand and fight they would have to choose a gate to hold, the logical choice being the eastern road as it was the side the zombii's were approaching from. The twelve foot wall of the fort was made even high by the ditch dug in front of it. It would be an incredible feat for the most able bodied man to be able to avoid the sharp spikes of the ditch to scale the sheer wall with little to hold on while climbing. They could not hole up in the fort for long, they had only food for another few weeks then they would be forced to send a party into Aquincum to collect some food. It was fight or flight and the decision had to be made now.
Larcius didn't really have a choice, his orders told him to hold this fort against any aggressor. The empire was not so large and powerful because men at a station like his made the decisions. He would stand and he would fight and if necessary, he would die. He had been assigned to this post because he had once disobeyed an order, an order that would have gotten all the men under his command killed. He had put himself above the importance of the Empire. His life had only been spared because his sister was the lover of his commanding Legate. And so he had been sent to the distant province of Pannonian Inferior to die without glory or advancement. There was certainly neither of those to be had if he stayed or left but he was honour bound. He would not be considered a traitor again.
"Ruffus the call for battle if you please," he said, there was no turning back now.
"Yessir," Ruffus said quickly as he sounded the call. The assembled men before them readied themselves for combat, it would take them only minutes to be fully prepared to fight.
"Ruffus, Viktor we need to discuss the battleplan," he said as he stepped out of earshot from the legionnaires all busying themselves with their preparations. Once they were out of earshot from the rest of the men, not that they were likely to overhear but it was better that they not misinterpret what was about to be said Larcius thought.
"There is a plan Larcius?" Ruffus asked. Larcius could hear the skepticism in his voice and didn't like it but now wasn't the time for a tongue lashing.
"They are a massed force, slow moving, disorganized and without a plan of attack nor a purpose beyond a desire for living flesh...if we don't suffer casualties we can survive," Viktor said. He stroked his thick moustache as he looked Ruffus in the eye.
"You're right," Larcius said, "and my hands are tied. Our orders include defending this fort from any aggressor. This is no exception-"
"Commander!" Ruffus burst out. "You would have us die here! Risk our lives for what? Orders? Your honour? This is a fool errand Larcius, I have fought with you these last few years and I've never known you to be so insane. How are we going to fight those zombii? They are four maybe five thousand and we are three hundred and fifty-"
"Enough." Larcius said. His voice was deeper than usual and there was a razor sharp quality to the word he uttered. Ruffus starred at him frustrated, his face red from his exaggeration. "Ruffus my old friend...if you wish to leave then you may go. I will not hold you here. If you are found and an officer of the Legion learns that you have deserted up you will be arrested and executed for treason. We have three hundred trained legionnaire's, all veterans and most with combat experience. We have fifty archers, and although Roman's aren't know to be profficient archers they will be of use to us. We have at least three hundred able bodied men when you count the civilians and our own train os stable men, cooks and other aides. If we form a phalanx in the gate we can hold that line. We won't have to worry about being flanked or taken at speed so we can take our time and ensure everyone stays rested and watered and fed throughout the day. All things considered I've faced worse tactical situations on the field before. We will need every man to fight today or we will exhaust ourselves and surely die. Ruffus, I'm asking you as a friend, to stay and fight with me...will you stand with me brother?" Larcius asked, rising from his chair to hold out his hand for Ruffus. Ruffus thrust his hand into Larcius' grip and they shook heartily. Viktor in turn clasped his commanders hand and then Ruffus'.
"Come, I must address the men," Larcius said. They filed out of the room with Larcius but slowed up as he continued along the wall where he coud stand before the assembled legionnaires. "Men!" He called, his voice bellowing out and the small talk and hushed whispers were silenced and every eye was upon him.
"We face a terror unlike any I have ever witness. An army of creatures that does not breathe the air, drink water or feed on anything but living flesh. There is a host of zombii's approaching from the east and their number is in the thousands. We will defend this fort and ourselves, this terror cannot be unleashed upon the countryside and we cannot allow this legion of the dead to reach even the frontier border of the Empire. A bite from a zombii is fatal and it will kill you and you will rise again as one of them. Any man who suffers a bite will be quarantined and killed. There is no choice in the matter so do your best to stay in formation and defend yourself. We shall stand our ground just outside the gate, it should allow for thirty men to stand with their shields abreast and hold the line. Archers will take to the walls and fire on the mass below. Remember a kill shot must hit the brain or decapitate the zombii. We don't have much more time, if any man does not wish to stay then he can go in peace. If he is found at a later date he shall be put to death for treason," about forty of the civilians began to move to collect their belongings to leave and Larcius didn't pause to watch them leave.
"My squad will be the first in line, we shall spend thirty minutes on the front line then move back through the ranks for rest. Any man that falls, his place shall be filled immediatly we will hold them no matter how many they are. For your lives and your brothers-in-arms!" He raised his fist into the air and the men took up his cry.
Rushing down to the gate he and his squad marched forward and spread their line down the lengh of the gate. The oncoming horde was creeping ever nearer.
"When they come, be careful not to expose yourself. Don't take unneeded risks and stand firm," Larcius said loudly enough for a few rows of men to overhear. It seemed like an eternity waiting for their enemy to reach them. Larcius could hear his heart thundering in his ears, like the noise was somehow reverberating in his helmet and filtering back into his head completing the cycle. He noticed the sweat on his palms and on his brow and the nervous feeling in his stomach. The pre-battle stresses were taking their toll. Psychologically the horde before them although slow moving and unarmed were more damaging than a savage band of Germanic barbarians or even the blue-painted Scots of the Isle of Briton. There would be no mercy and their foe would be unrelenting they knew no better than to attack until they had all perished. Larcius grit his teeth and drove his fist into the back of his shield which resulted in a loud hollow drumming sound. He repeated in rhythm until the rest of his men followed suit.
Then there was a song, one voice, singing out with the beat. Larcius knew not the words that were sung as it was one of the native Slavic members of his cohort who sang the battle hymn in their tongue. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing Larcius could ever remember hearing and he silently wept as the man continue to sing. His voice never wavering like the oncoming mass of flesh pressing ever closer in front of them. For the first time Larcius began to notice the individual faces of the zombii before him. They had once been people, some soldiers, some mothers and some children. Some had been sculptors and some had been laborers. Now they were all dead and yet somehow alive. They were now within twenty feet and he recognized a member of the light cavalry detachment. His armour intact and his fighting knife still in it's sheath. His helmet still sat upon his head but both his arms had been bitten so fiercely Larcius could see the bone. Another zombii was a small child, not past twelve years old. It's eye was hanging from it's sockets and half it's cheek was missing. All the faces before him were just as horrific and brutalized
. A few more shambling steps and the creatures were at the point of his sword. "Strike!" He cried and moved his shield aside to slash across a zombii's neck as itreached out to him. The slash of blades and the grunts of the men were all that could be heard. Sandles grit against the ground as legs strained behind shields that held back the massing undead horde. Muttered curses and prayers slipped from lips as the swords fell again and again. Larcius' back began to ache as the shield from the man behind him held him in place more than his own exhausted legs. They had been hacking and slashing for what seemed like an eternity but was more than likely only five minutes.
"Back!" He shouted and his men expertly stepped aside and the lines crushed forward to hold the line.When he reached the back of the line he walked over to grab a drink of water that was held out to him by a young man of fifteen. There was fear in the youth's eyes, but it wasn't the type of paralysing fear Larcius was used to seeing on death ground but it was the type of fear you see in the eyes of a cornered boar. The kind of fear you don't want to ignore.
"Thank you for the drink. What's your name son?" Larcius asked the boy. He had been staring out at the battle as it continued behind Larcius and he didn't break his gaze when he answered. "My name is Calvus, I am apprentice to the carpenter Gauis Maridius. Commander I have stayed to fight with you. I would not flee just so I could see my family again, I would be so shamed and without honour I could not abandon you in this great hour of need." Larcius pondered this for a moment and was truly taken aback both by the lads courage and how well spoken Jovinus was. He put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. The boy looked away from the battle and into Larcius' eyes.
"You will make it home. We will not perish here today-" He was interrupted by the next call forward and rushed off to resume his place in the line. "Be strong today Calvus." He said before he was swallowed up by the mass of bronze and muscle.
The air reaked of sweat and blood and decay. He noticed that the zombii bodies had begun to pile up. By the time he and his line were at the front again the whole way across the gate was piled with zombii corpses. The men had been kicking them slowly to the sides and they were beginning to fill up the sides of the treaches and each side of the gate. Even with that the bodies were piled up to Larcius' waist. Most of the men were exhausted and weary. Only four men had been excuted, all had been inadvertantly bitten and could not be allowed to turn while behind the lines. Larcius thought several times that he was losing his mind, all he could hear was the sounds of blades ripping through flesh and the heavy breathing of exhausted men while the sun beat down on them. It had been nearly and hour since he had last been on the front line and his muscles were ready again for the savage work. He dug his shield into the dirt and slashed to his left and slashed to his right and slashed out in front of him and the ever pressing army pressed harder against the shield wall. The man to his left let lose a cry as his sword was stuck in the armour of what had been a Slavic warrior. The man did not have the sense to pull the sword lose with his battle weary mind and the zombii was ripping away at his wrist. Larcius struck, lightning quick, and the zombii had it's prize. The legionnaire screamed at the stump of his wrist and the men behind him pulled him back and a new man stepped forward while he slashed across the zombii's neck, not making the same mistake as the last man.
"Break!" Larcius barked and the men of his line pulled to the back again.
A scream went up and then another as two men were bitten. Their deaths sealed by their weary arms and dulled senses. The stairs creaked as Larcius moved up to the wall and looked over the massive body of the zombii's. The archers had expelled all their arrows and zombii's could be seen with twenty feet with their heads split and their brains spilt There was still an overwhelming number pressing against his men. Viktor approached from behind him and stood next to his Commander.
"Commander, we are suffering mmore casualties. At this rate we will not last long, we will certainly not destroy all of them. I know we are staying and I am with you but you need to consider sending away the youth. They can go on the remaining horses to Aquinicum to alert the Legate before the masses descend upon the city."
Larcius nodded and was silent for a spell.
"You're right Viktor. Go and tell Ruffus we are making our final stand, the youth and the civilians are to ride back to Aquinicum. I think I know how we can destory this horde...we will send every last one of them to hell." Viktor saluted and strode off to find Ruffus amoungst the pressing bodies of the legionnaires. Larcius removed his helmet and turned and strode down the stairs. The word was out and the preparations were being made for the departure. The stable master Dragan was leading horses out and men were riding in pairs to accomdate the number leaving. Larcius nodded as he saw the boy who had given him water earlier climbing onto the horses back behind his master carpenter.
The horses whinnied as they were kicked towards the open gate on the other side of the fort, as soon as the last horse exited the doors were pulled shut again. With his helmet perched on his head again Larcius strode toward his men. His fighting men, his dying men. They still faced at least a thousand zombii from his guess at their numbers and they had lost at least fifty men already. He took up his position at the head of the line.
"Men! It is time to end this. I know you are all tired and weary and bloodied. I have asked you to lay your lives down in service to the Empire. I must ask you to risk your lives even more," as he spoke his shield was pressed against. The weight against it was incredible! He repositioned his legs and pushed back against the wall of the dead. "We only have one course of action. Some of us will die but it is the only way that some of us will live."
The horizon was filled with an army of the dead. Even from several hundred feet away Larcius could spot some uniforms of the men he had lost yesterday. He had three hundred foot soldiers, fifty archers and probably about two hundred able-bodied men who could wield a sword and shield if they had to within the fort and able to fight.
The early morning sun was bright and strong and it penetrated into the desnse forest that surrounded the fort completely, save for the road to the east and the one leading west from the fort. If they were to stand and fight they would have to choose a gate to hold, the logical choice being the eastern road as it was the side the zombii's were approaching from. The twelve foot wall of the fort was made even high by the ditch dug in front of it. It would be an incredible feat for the most able bodied man to be able to avoid the sharp spikes of the ditch to scale the sheer wall with little to hold on while climbing. They could not hole up in the fort for long, they had only food for another few weeks then they would be forced to send a party into Aquincum to collect some food. It was fight or flight and the decision had to be made now.
Larcius didn't really have a choice, his orders told him to hold this fort against any aggressor. The empire was not so large and powerful because men at a station like his made the decisions. He would stand and he would fight and if necessary, he would die. He had been assigned to this post because he had once disobeyed an order, an order that would have gotten all the men under his command killed. He had put himself above the importance of the Empire. His life had only been spared because his sister was the lover of his commanding Legate. And so he had been sent to the distant province of Pannonian Inferior to die without glory or advancement. There was certainly neither of those to be had if he stayed or left but he was honour bound. He would not be considered a traitor again.
"Ruffus the call for battle if you please," he said, there was no turning back now.
"Yessir," Ruffus said quickly as he sounded the call. The assembled men before them readied themselves for combat, it would take them only minutes to be fully prepared to fight.
"Ruffus, Viktor we need to discuss the battleplan," he said as he stepped out of earshot from the legionnaires all busying themselves with their preparations. Once they were out of earshot from the rest of the men, not that they were likely to overhear but it was better that they not misinterpret what was about to be said Larcius thought.
"There is a plan Larcius?" Ruffus asked. Larcius could hear the skepticism in his voice and didn't like it but now wasn't the time for a tongue lashing.
"They are a massed force, slow moving, disorganized and without a plan of attack nor a purpose beyond a desire for living flesh...if we don't suffer casualties we can survive," Viktor said. He stroked his thick moustache as he looked Ruffus in the eye.
"You're right," Larcius said, "and my hands are tied. Our orders include defending this fort from any aggressor. This is no exception-"
"Commander!" Ruffus burst out. "You would have us die here! Risk our lives for what? Orders? Your honour? This is a fool errand Larcius, I have fought with you these last few years and I've never known you to be so insane. How are we going to fight those zombii? They are four maybe five thousand and we are three hundred and fifty-"
"Enough." Larcius said. His voice was deeper than usual and there was a razor sharp quality to the word he uttered. Ruffus starred at him frustrated, his face red from his exaggeration. "Ruffus my old friend...if you wish to leave then you may go. I will not hold you here. If you are found and an officer of the Legion learns that you have deserted up you will be arrested and executed for treason. We have three hundred trained legionnaire's, all veterans and most with combat experience. We have fifty archers, and although Roman's aren't know to be profficient archers they will be of use to us. We have at least three hundred able bodied men when you count the civilians and our own train os stable men, cooks and other aides. If we form a phalanx in the gate we can hold that line. We won't have to worry about being flanked or taken at speed so we can take our time and ensure everyone stays rested and watered and fed throughout the day. All things considered I've faced worse tactical situations on the field before. We will need every man to fight today or we will exhaust ourselves and surely die. Ruffus, I'm asking you as a friend, to stay and fight with me...will you stand with me brother?" Larcius asked, rising from his chair to hold out his hand for Ruffus. Ruffus thrust his hand into Larcius' grip and they shook heartily. Viktor in turn clasped his commanders hand and then Ruffus'.
"Come, I must address the men," Larcius said. They filed out of the room with Larcius but slowed up as he continued along the wall where he coud stand before the assembled legionnaires. "Men!" He called, his voice bellowing out and the small talk and hushed whispers were silenced and every eye was upon him.
"We face a terror unlike any I have ever witness. An army of creatures that does not breathe the air, drink water or feed on anything but living flesh. There is a host of zombii's approaching from the east and their number is in the thousands. We will defend this fort and ourselves, this terror cannot be unleashed upon the countryside and we cannot allow this legion of the dead to reach even the frontier border of the Empire. A bite from a zombii is fatal and it will kill you and you will rise again as one of them. Any man who suffers a bite will be quarantined and killed. There is no choice in the matter so do your best to stay in formation and defend yourself. We shall stand our ground just outside the gate, it should allow for thirty men to stand with their shields abreast and hold the line. Archers will take to the walls and fire on the mass below. Remember a kill shot must hit the brain or decapitate the zombii. We don't have much more time, if any man does not wish to stay then he can go in peace. If he is found at a later date he shall be put to death for treason," about forty of the civilians began to move to collect their belongings to leave and Larcius didn't pause to watch them leave.
"My squad will be the first in line, we shall spend thirty minutes on the front line then move back through the ranks for rest. Any man that falls, his place shall be filled immediatly we will hold them no matter how many they are. For your lives and your brothers-in-arms!" He raised his fist into the air and the men took up his cry.
Rushing down to the gate he and his squad marched forward and spread their line down the lengh of the gate. The oncoming horde was creeping ever nearer.
"When they come, be careful not to expose yourself. Don't take unneeded risks and stand firm," Larcius said loudly enough for a few rows of men to overhear. It seemed like an eternity waiting for their enemy to reach them. Larcius could hear his heart thundering in his ears, like the noise was somehow reverberating in his helmet and filtering back into his head completing the cycle. He noticed the sweat on his palms and on his brow and the nervous feeling in his stomach. The pre-battle stresses were taking their toll. Psychologically the horde before them although slow moving and unarmed were more damaging than a savage band of Germanic barbarians or even the blue-painted Scots of the Isle of Briton. There would be no mercy and their foe would be unrelenting they knew no better than to attack until they had all perished. Larcius grit his teeth and drove his fist into the back of his shield which resulted in a loud hollow drumming sound. He repeated in rhythm until the rest of his men followed suit.
Then there was a song, one voice, singing out with the beat. Larcius knew not the words that were sung as it was one of the native Slavic members of his cohort who sang the battle hymn in their tongue. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing Larcius could ever remember hearing and he silently wept as the man continue to sing. His voice never wavering like the oncoming mass of flesh pressing ever closer in front of them. For the first time Larcius began to notice the individual faces of the zombii before him. They had once been people, some soldiers, some mothers and some children. Some had been sculptors and some had been laborers. Now they were all dead and yet somehow alive. They were now within twenty feet and he recognized a member of the light cavalry detachment. His armour intact and his fighting knife still in it's sheath. His helmet still sat upon his head but both his arms had been bitten so fiercely Larcius could see the bone. Another zombii was a small child, not past twelve years old. It's eye was hanging from it's sockets and half it's cheek was missing. All the faces before him were just as horrific and brutalized
. A few more shambling steps and the creatures were at the point of his sword. "Strike!" He cried and moved his shield aside to slash across a zombii's neck as itreached out to him. The slash of blades and the grunts of the men were all that could be heard. Sandles grit against the ground as legs strained behind shields that held back the massing undead horde. Muttered curses and prayers slipped from lips as the swords fell again and again. Larcius' back began to ache as the shield from the man behind him held him in place more than his own exhausted legs. They had been hacking and slashing for what seemed like an eternity but was more than likely only five minutes.
"Back!" He shouted and his men expertly stepped aside and the lines crushed forward to hold the line.When he reached the back of the line he walked over to grab a drink of water that was held out to him by a young man of fifteen. There was fear in the youth's eyes, but it wasn't the type of paralysing fear Larcius was used to seeing on death ground but it was the type of fear you see in the eyes of a cornered boar. The kind of fear you don't want to ignore.
"Thank you for the drink. What's your name son?" Larcius asked the boy. He had been staring out at the battle as it continued behind Larcius and he didn't break his gaze when he answered. "My name is Calvus, I am apprentice to the carpenter Gauis Maridius. Commander I have stayed to fight with you. I would not flee just so I could see my family again, I would be so shamed and without honour I could not abandon you in this great hour of need." Larcius pondered this for a moment and was truly taken aback both by the lads courage and how well spoken Jovinus was. He put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. The boy looked away from the battle and into Larcius' eyes.
"You will make it home. We will not perish here today-" He was interrupted by the next call forward and rushed off to resume his place in the line. "Be strong today Calvus." He said before he was swallowed up by the mass of bronze and muscle.
The air reaked of sweat and blood and decay. He noticed that the zombii bodies had begun to pile up. By the time he and his line were at the front again the whole way across the gate was piled with zombii corpses. The men had been kicking them slowly to the sides and they were beginning to fill up the sides of the treaches and each side of the gate. Even with that the bodies were piled up to Larcius' waist. Most of the men were exhausted and weary. Only four men had been excuted, all had been inadvertantly bitten and could not be allowed to turn while behind the lines. Larcius thought several times that he was losing his mind, all he could hear was the sounds of blades ripping through flesh and the heavy breathing of exhausted men while the sun beat down on them. It had been nearly and hour since he had last been on the front line and his muscles were ready again for the savage work. He dug his shield into the dirt and slashed to his left and slashed to his right and slashed out in front of him and the ever pressing army pressed harder against the shield wall. The man to his left let lose a cry as his sword was stuck in the armour of what had been a Slavic warrior. The man did not have the sense to pull the sword lose with his battle weary mind and the zombii was ripping away at his wrist. Larcius struck, lightning quick, and the zombii had it's prize. The legionnaire screamed at the stump of his wrist and the men behind him pulled him back and a new man stepped forward while he slashed across the zombii's neck, not making the same mistake as the last man.
"Break!" Larcius barked and the men of his line pulled to the back again.
A scream went up and then another as two men were bitten. Their deaths sealed by their weary arms and dulled senses. The stairs creaked as Larcius moved up to the wall and looked over the massive body of the zombii's. The archers had expelled all their arrows and zombii's could be seen with twenty feet with their heads split and their brains spilt There was still an overwhelming number pressing against his men. Viktor approached from behind him and stood next to his Commander.
"Commander, we are suffering mmore casualties. At this rate we will not last long, we will certainly not destroy all of them. I know we are staying and I am with you but you need to consider sending away the youth. They can go on the remaining horses to Aquinicum to alert the Legate before the masses descend upon the city."
Larcius nodded and was silent for a spell.
"You're right Viktor. Go and tell Ruffus we are making our final stand, the youth and the civilians are to ride back to Aquinicum. I think I know how we can destory this horde...we will send every last one of them to hell." Viktor saluted and strode off to find Ruffus amoungst the pressing bodies of the legionnaires. Larcius removed his helmet and turned and strode down the stairs. The word was out and the preparations were being made for the departure. The stable master Dragan was leading horses out and men were riding in pairs to accomdate the number leaving. Larcius nodded as he saw the boy who had given him water earlier climbing onto the horses back behind his master carpenter.
The horses whinnied as they were kicked towards the open gate on the other side of the fort, as soon as the last horse exited the doors were pulled shut again. With his helmet perched on his head again Larcius strode toward his men. His fighting men, his dying men. They still faced at least a thousand zombii from his guess at their numbers and they had lost at least fifty men already. He took up his position at the head of the line.
"Men! It is time to end this. I know you are all tired and weary and bloodied. I have asked you to lay your lives down in service to the Empire. I must ask you to risk your lives even more," as he spoke his shield was pressed against. The weight against it was incredible! He repositioned his legs and pushed back against the wall of the dead. "We only have one course of action. Some of us will die but it is the only way that some of us will live."
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Church of the National Football League
I had such a blast yesterday, let me tell you about it. Every Sunday during football season I get excited, all week I have being reading the lastest updates and predictions about the league. Yesterday I got to attend my fourth NFL regular season game.
For the third year in a row the Buffalo Bills have held a regular season game at the Rogers Centre in the heart of downtown Toronto. For the third year in a row I have attended that game. I am not a Bills fan but it is still great to go to an NFL game, it's just not the same as the CFL. The stadium was pretty much packed and from my nose bleeds I could barely make out the individual players on the field. It's a fun view at times because you can see the whole field and watch plays develop. You can also recognize the different formations if you know football at all.
Buffalo played the Chicago Bears and for most of the game it was a back and forth battle that was actually entertaining to watch. I say entertaining and not good because on both sides of the ball both teams looked pretty sloppy but in the end the three points Buffalo missed after scoring a pair of touchdowns proved extremely costly as they lost 22-19.
The Buffalo Bills are the only winless team remaining in the NFL and are now 0-8, their record in Canada is almost as bad as this year's loss brings them to 0-3 after losing to Miami two years ago and the New York Jets last year.
If you know me then you know that football is something that I'm passionate about and I'm surprised this is my first post about football on this blog. The aforementioned fantastic girlfriend of mine sat with me on the subway ride back to my trusty wheels and we listened as other people discussed the game we had just left. As soon as the subway train reached an above-ground station I got out my Blackberry and checked the score in the game that really mattered to me yesterday, my beloved Oakland Raiders against their greatest rivals the Kansas City Chiefs.
Oakland has had a pretty incredible season so far and for the first time in quite awhile I am proud to say I am an Oakland Raiders fan. I am becoming more impressed every week with our team. But back to the story. Yesterday's game was big, it would have been big just because it's the Chief's but we're talking about a team that has beaten us seven times in a row at home, our greatest rival, posting three straight wins since the Superbowl run in 2002, we're talking about becoming a serious threat and not a joke. She patiently held my hand as I cursed when I noticed we were trailing 10-0. For an offense that had outscored it's previous two opponents 92-17, I had expected a few more points than that. When we reached my car and we got onto the highway I handed her my phone.
"Five minute score check baby."
This girl is amazing, I mean she friggin' told me who had possession, on what yard line, with how much time in whatever quarter, the current down and yardage and a description of the last play. This continued until we got home and throughout the ride we had gone up (14-13 and then 17-13) and then back down (20-17) and when we reached my house I ran inside and jumped on my computer to follow the game on the web.
Unfortunately being this far east the Raider's games are generally not televised but I went online to follow the last few plays. After waiting for what seemed like hours and watching the little black bar with the silver arrow move steadly forward we were rewarded with a report that Oakland had kicked a field goal to tie the game at 20-20. Overtime in the NFL is just like hockey, sudden death. I hate it because I always seem to see the games where the team that wins the overtime coin toss marches down and scores to win the game. The Chiefs won the toss. This threw me for whirl and swallowing my anger I put on a smile and grabbed my keys to leave.
"Don't you want to know how it ends?" She asked.
"It's over." Was all I said.
Forgetting she still had my phone we made it to my garage before she asked me if she could tell me something but I couldn't get upset. She put on a said face and she said: "We won by 3." And held my phone out for my to read the score for myself. I rushed into her arms and screamed out loud (probably waking most of the neighbours and my sleeping dog). Once we were headed to her house I began shouting and chanting and laughing and swearing. It was a feeling I haven't had in a long time. It was an ugly win but I'll take it.
Yesterday's win was like a mini-Superbowl, it was just so out of the ordinary and so fantastic it made a great day an amazing one.
One thing I will miss during the Zompacalypse: NFL football.
One thing I will not miss during the Zompacalypse: Miss McGoo...she will be right by my side kickin' ass and takin' names.
'til next time friends
For the third year in a row the Buffalo Bills have held a regular season game at the Rogers Centre in the heart of downtown Toronto. For the third year in a row I have attended that game. I am not a Bills fan but it is still great to go to an NFL game, it's just not the same as the CFL. The stadium was pretty much packed and from my nose bleeds I could barely make out the individual players on the field. It's a fun view at times because you can see the whole field and watch plays develop. You can also recognize the different formations if you know football at all.
Buffalo played the Chicago Bears and for most of the game it was a back and forth battle that was actually entertaining to watch. I say entertaining and not good because on both sides of the ball both teams looked pretty sloppy but in the end the three points Buffalo missed after scoring a pair of touchdowns proved extremely costly as they lost 22-19.
The Buffalo Bills are the only winless team remaining in the NFL and are now 0-8, their record in Canada is almost as bad as this year's loss brings them to 0-3 after losing to Miami two years ago and the New York Jets last year.
If you know me then you know that football is something that I'm passionate about and I'm surprised this is my first post about football on this blog. The aforementioned fantastic girlfriend of mine sat with me on the subway ride back to my trusty wheels and we listened as other people discussed the game we had just left. As soon as the subway train reached an above-ground station I got out my Blackberry and checked the score in the game that really mattered to me yesterday, my beloved Oakland Raiders against their greatest rivals the Kansas City Chiefs.
Oakland has had a pretty incredible season so far and for the first time in quite awhile I am proud to say I am an Oakland Raiders fan. I am becoming more impressed every week with our team. But back to the story. Yesterday's game was big, it would have been big just because it's the Chief's but we're talking about a team that has beaten us seven times in a row at home, our greatest rival, posting three straight wins since the Superbowl run in 2002, we're talking about becoming a serious threat and not a joke. She patiently held my hand as I cursed when I noticed we were trailing 10-0. For an offense that had outscored it's previous two opponents 92-17, I had expected a few more points than that. When we reached my car and we got onto the highway I handed her my phone.
"Five minute score check baby."
This girl is amazing, I mean she friggin' told me who had possession, on what yard line, with how much time in whatever quarter, the current down and yardage and a description of the last play. This continued until we got home and throughout the ride we had gone up (14-13 and then 17-13) and then back down (20-17) and when we reached my house I ran inside and jumped on my computer to follow the game on the web.
Unfortunately being this far east the Raider's games are generally not televised but I went online to follow the last few plays. After waiting for what seemed like hours and watching the little black bar with the silver arrow move steadly forward we were rewarded with a report that Oakland had kicked a field goal to tie the game at 20-20. Overtime in the NFL is just like hockey, sudden death. I hate it because I always seem to see the games where the team that wins the overtime coin toss marches down and scores to win the game. The Chiefs won the toss. This threw me for whirl and swallowing my anger I put on a smile and grabbed my keys to leave.
"Don't you want to know how it ends?" She asked.
"It's over." Was all I said.
Forgetting she still had my phone we made it to my garage before she asked me if she could tell me something but I couldn't get upset. She put on a said face and she said: "We won by 3." And held my phone out for my to read the score for myself. I rushed into her arms and screamed out loud (probably waking most of the neighbours and my sleeping dog). Once we were headed to her house I began shouting and chanting and laughing and swearing. It was a feeling I haven't had in a long time. It was an ugly win but I'll take it.
Yesterday's win was like a mini-Superbowl, it was just so out of the ordinary and so fantastic it made a great day an amazing one.
One thing I will miss during the Zompacalypse: NFL football.
One thing I will not miss during the Zompacalypse: Miss McGoo...she will be right by my side kickin' ass and takin' names.
'til next time friends
Saturday, November 6, 2010
October Poll Results
In the month of October I added a new feature to the blog, a poll. The question posed last month was what would you choose for hand-to-hand zombie combat. The options included, a chainsaw, machete, katana, Taylor Made driver and the entrenching tool. It was a close race with much division between voters but the Taylor Made driver did come out at the top of it's class.
This month I have changed the subject of the blog to video game systems. In today's age of electronics, social media, the internet and overall fiscal irresponsibility most people have some sort of gaming system in their household. Take a look at the options and leave a vote. We'll take a look at the results in December.
As for this months results apparently you like to tee 'em up Fearless Reader...and I won't argue with that.
Sleep tight...but not too tight...
This month I have changed the subject of the blog to video game systems. In today's age of electronics, social media, the internet and overall fiscal irresponsibility most people have some sort of gaming system in their household. Take a look at the options and leave a vote. We'll take a look at the results in December.
As for this months results apparently you like to tee 'em up Fearless Reader...and I won't argue with that.
Sleep tight...but not too tight...
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
You Gotta be Kidding!
To add insult to injury I now learn that the month of November is actually Movember and men are encouraged to grow a mustache for prostate cancer awareness.
Why those two things should be associated is really a seperate matter.
It appears the universe was listening when I made my plea for some stubble on my face...and not only was my request ignored but now I suffer the insult of a mustache every where I look. As if the normal number wasn't enough already!
Perhaps it is true and I am a new breed of man not requiring facial hair to survive...I suppose it would be less wind resistance when running from a group of zombie's.
P.S. I promised you the end of "Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat" Fearless Reader and I assure you it is on the way!
Why those two things should be associated is really a seperate matter.
It appears the universe was listening when I made my plea for some stubble on my face...and not only was my request ignored but now I suffer the insult of a mustache every where I look. As if the normal number wasn't enough already!
Perhaps it is true and I am a new breed of man not requiring facial hair to survive...I suppose it would be less wind resistance when running from a group of zombie's.
P.S. I promised you the end of "Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat" Fearless Reader and I assure you it is on the way!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
I Always Wanted One of Those!
Fearless Reader have you ever had one of these days?
Today, well I guess yesterday now that it is Saturday according to the clock, was halloween dress up day for the office and being a young guy of twenty I am still frustrated at not being able to grow a respectable, mustache, goatee or beard.
I mean how will any team I like win in the playoffs without my beard for support? But I digress, I was an 80's punk with rolled up shirt sleeves and aviators and smokes rolled up in my t-shirt. I had to pencil in a goatee with eye-liner. And the sad part is, from a distance it looked good and people who didn't know me were fooled.
I heard "Oh that really suits you." And of course my beloved Miss McGoo described it in one word; "Hot."
It was one of those days where I wished I had a real goatee. One of those days where something you really want seems like it's there but it just isn't you know? My old man rocked a wicked goatee for a number of years! It has since vacated his facial region but still, I gotta have the genes for that right?
Needless to say my chin will be cold this winter, as always, without the insulation of some facial hair to keep the wind off it on those nasty Canadian days.
Make your beards live long and prosper (unless you're female...in which case please don't grow a beard. Seriously nothing more nasty than a woman with facial hair!)
Today, well I guess yesterday now that it is Saturday according to the clock, was halloween dress up day for the office and being a young guy of twenty I am still frustrated at not being able to grow a respectable, mustache, goatee or beard.
I mean how will any team I like win in the playoffs without my beard for support? But I digress, I was an 80's punk with rolled up shirt sleeves and aviators and smokes rolled up in my t-shirt. I had to pencil in a goatee with eye-liner. And the sad part is, from a distance it looked good and people who didn't know me were fooled.
I heard "Oh that really suits you." And of course my beloved Miss McGoo described it in one word; "Hot."
It was one of those days where I wished I had a real goatee. One of those days where something you really want seems like it's there but it just isn't you know? My old man rocked a wicked goatee for a number of years! It has since vacated his facial region but still, I gotta have the genes for that right?
Needless to say my chin will be cold this winter, as always, without the insulation of some facial hair to keep the wind off it on those nasty Canadian days.
Make your beards live long and prosper (unless you're female...in which case please don't grow a beard. Seriously nothing more nasty than a woman with facial hair!)
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Miss McGoo, I love you
A Zombie Killer with a Heart
Every pretty lady deserves to go to a ball. It's true. So when I was presented with the opportunity to attend such an event in Niagra Falls tomorrow I naturally jumped at ensuring I could go. I am taking with me said pretty lady and I guess it's time I reveal another side of myself to you Fearless Reader (although you may be a fearful reader, but I promised I won't get too mushy).
I've been dating this girl for about 1o months and I guess the need to give her credit and the spotlight is overwhelming. They say behind every great man is a great woman and although I question whether I am a great man I know I have a great woman. She's been an inspiration to me over the last couple of months and was an incredible listener as I was struggling with not writing, then deciding I was going to blog again, and then deciding I was going to seriously pursue writing. She's got the patience of a saint and the insight of a professor.
If my own deliberations fail me then I have this supremely intelligent girl to talk to and bounce ideas off of. I wouldn't be writing this right now if not for her. She's the kind of person that makes you feel so good about yourself that you realize you CAN do anything. I know with her help I will acheive my goals and for that I am thankful. I am blessed and undeserving of the gift that is her love which she has given to me unconditionally.
She's recently been extremely helpful with my in progress story entitled Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat which I will reveal is a four part story. She's helped me become happy with the first two parts and the third is now underway and should be here for your viewing (dis)pleasure sometime in the next two weeks.
I hope I haven't tested your patience too much tonight Fearless Reader and I hope you don't think any less of my resolve when Z-Day rolls around! I just had to go there tonight;
Miss McGoo, I love you
Every pretty lady deserves to go to a ball. It's true. So when I was presented with the opportunity to attend such an event in Niagra Falls tomorrow I naturally jumped at ensuring I could go. I am taking with me said pretty lady and I guess it's time I reveal another side of myself to you Fearless Reader (although you may be a fearful reader, but I promised I won't get too mushy).
I've been dating this girl for about 1o months and I guess the need to give her credit and the spotlight is overwhelming. They say behind every great man is a great woman and although I question whether I am a great man I know I have a great woman. She's been an inspiration to me over the last couple of months and was an incredible listener as I was struggling with not writing, then deciding I was going to blog again, and then deciding I was going to seriously pursue writing. She's got the patience of a saint and the insight of a professor.
If my own deliberations fail me then I have this supremely intelligent girl to talk to and bounce ideas off of. I wouldn't be writing this right now if not for her. She's the kind of person that makes you feel so good about yourself that you realize you CAN do anything. I know with her help I will acheive my goals and for that I am thankful. I am blessed and undeserving of the gift that is her love which she has given to me unconditionally.
She's recently been extremely helpful with my in progress story entitled Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat which I will reveal is a four part story. She's helped me become happy with the first two parts and the third is now underway and should be here for your viewing (dis)pleasure sometime in the next two weeks.
I hope I haven't tested your patience too much tonight Fearless Reader and I hope you don't think any less of my resolve when Z-Day rolls around! I just had to go there tonight;
Miss McGoo, I love you
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Erasebook
Tonight I decided to finally remove my Facebook page. I haven't been on in months and I haven't used it regularly in over a year so it was time for it to go. I imagine that you will not have had the experience of deleting a facebook page before so let me tell you the story of mine.
I tried to load the screen once and my computer mysteriously froze. As in my COMPUTER...not just the window or program. I had to physically turn off the unit. This is not something that has happened to me before. So is it coincidence that I get a little bit farther when I log back on and my computer crashes again as my mouse hovers ever closer to that 'deactivate' button? I think not! But remember, this is coming from the guy who is telling you how to survive the Zompacalypse, always consider your source Fearless Reader. And for those of you who just went, "What in the hell is a Zompacalypse?" please consult my post entitled "Z-Day."
So I managed on the third attempt to hit the deactivate button, where I was then prompted to enter my password.
I was then prompted to end the 'hidden' code in the blotchy picture.
I was then consulted as to whether I was certain and was shown pictures of my 'friends' and notified that they would miss me.
I was then asked why I was deactivating my account and when I told Facebook I found it useless, it suggested ways for me to find it more useful.
When I assured Facebook that I was sure I wanted to deactivate it kicked me out. No confirmation, no verification, didn't even to offer to cook me breakfast.
It was an ordeal I just had to share with you, however as I type this I am a Facebook free man, in high school it was a self made label that said "Social Pariah" but to me right now it seems like a great choice. After all, if we were friends, I would ask you how your day was, invite you to my party, let you know when something interesting happened and generally gave a shit about your life.
So to you Facebook I bid you adieu. And in response to your comically long and horribly lame deactivation 'oh-my-god-that-was-a-pain-in-the-ass' deactivation nightmare...
SUCK IT!
I tried to load the screen once and my computer mysteriously froze. As in my COMPUTER...not just the window or program. I had to physically turn off the unit. This is not something that has happened to me before. So is it coincidence that I get a little bit farther when I log back on and my computer crashes again as my mouse hovers ever closer to that 'deactivate' button? I think not! But remember, this is coming from the guy who is telling you how to survive the Zompacalypse, always consider your source Fearless Reader. And for those of you who just went, "What in the hell is a Zompacalypse?" please consult my post entitled "Z-Day."
So I managed on the third attempt to hit the deactivate button, where I was then prompted to enter my password.
I was then prompted to end the 'hidden' code in the blotchy picture.
I was then consulted as to whether I was certain and was shown pictures of my 'friends' and notified that they would miss me.
I was then asked why I was deactivating my account and when I told Facebook I found it useless, it suggested ways for me to find it more useful.
When I assured Facebook that I was sure I wanted to deactivate it kicked me out. No confirmation, no verification, didn't even to offer to cook me breakfast.
It was an ordeal I just had to share with you, however as I type this I am a Facebook free man, in high school it was a self made label that said "Social Pariah" but to me right now it seems like a great choice. After all, if we were friends, I would ask you how your day was, invite you to my party, let you know when something interesting happened and generally gave a shit about your life.
So to you Facebook I bid you adieu. And in response to your comically long and horribly lame deactivation 'oh-my-god-that-was-a-pain-in-the-ass' deactivation nightmare...
SUCK IT!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat II
Part Two: The Morning
The call to arms sounded just after sun up. Larcius rubbed the sleep from his eyes but he was already slipping on the heavy leather kilt and armoured belt before the second call went out ten seconds later. He pulled the tunic over his head and began working on putting on his grieves and arm guards when a knock came at his door.
"Enter," he said gruffly as he continued to do up the straps on his armour. The night-watch sergeant stepped into his quarters, a short and somewhat small Serb the man was named Boian. "Three men sir, approaching on horseback. Moving slow and showing signs of battle, they are definately some of ours Commander," Boian said.
"I will be with you presently Boian, please send a squad to open the gate for these men," Larcius instructed as he saw Ruffus move into his quarters to do up his chestplate, the final piece of his armour. As Ruffus began to work on tightening the straps, Larcius remained silent.
"Thank you Ruffus, now, let's go see what the excitement is all about shall we?"
They both left Larcius' quarters and moved at a brisk pace to the platform built beside the wall so they could look out over the field in front of the fort. The place was buzzing with activity as three hundred and fifty foot soldiers readied themselves for combat. His battle group was one hundred legionnaires and fifty archers in support as auxilaries. The other two infantry groups were commanded by his two senior lieutenants, Ruffus being one and the other a gruff Serb named Viktor. Viktor was stalking towards them as well and saluted as he approached.
"Commander my men are equipped and ready for battle," he said smartly with a thick accent.
"Viktor let us pray it does not come to that, come with me gentlemen let's take a look," Larcius said taking the steps quickly, they again groaned in protest at his bulk.
The blank stares amoung the soldiers who were on the watch duty fell upon their commander. Larcius spotted the three men quickly, they were moving very slowly, within four hundred feet from the gate. His dark brown eyes squinted to better see the men moving towards them, the sun was at his back and he thought he recognized all three faces although battered and bloodied they were.
"Zombii..." One of the Slavic men whispered a little more loudly than he'd thought as he hissed it out with a sharp breath.
Larcius snapped his head towards the man and was about to scold him when Ruffus tapped his shoulder and pointed back towards the three men. One was jerking violently and was actually attempting to grab one of his companions from his horse.
"What the hell," Ruffus said.
Viktor leaned forward to whisper to Larcius and Larcius twisted his head to provide a better angle and as he looked over his shoulder he saw the stable master, Dragan, standing amoungst the gathered troops, he clutched an aged sword, longer than the short sword worn on the hip by the legionnaires and there was a fire in his eyes.
"That man is no fool, those horsemen could be zombii-" Viktor could say no more as the flailing horseman finally grabbed hold of his exhausted victim and pulled him to the ground roughly from the saddle. This startled the third horse and the rider seemed to wake somewhat and he kept the horse moving towards the fort at a good pace.
There were three archers on the wall, they immediately began fumbling for arrows from their quivers. At this distance they would do little good, these men were by no means highly skilled archers and there was no sense in firing at both men.
"Hold," Larcius barked.
"They couldn't get a kill shot anyway Commander," Viktor said. This remark only earned a silent look from Larcius.
There couldn't possibly be anything to merit this folly of zombii. It was a myth and a superstition handed down to each generation to scare obedience into poorly behaved children.
"Stay here, I'm taking a squad out there," Larcius said. He pushed past his lieutenants and walked down the creaking stairs. His personal guard, a squad of ten men stood waiting for him.
"Dragan could you please fetch a horse for me," he said meeting the old man's stare. Dragan shuffled off in the direction of the stables, still clutching the old cavalry sword in his hand.
Pacing over to the squad he instructed them to secure the third rider and make sure his injuries were attended to. Dragan had lead his horse over by the time his instructions were dealt the the wooden gate stood open with the lone rider nearly to the fort.
Heaving himself onto the back of the horse he kicked it forward, Viktor and Ruffus stared down at him and he felt their eyes on him as he left the fort. He passed the third rider on the field, the man was barely able to lift his head to meet Larcius' eyes. He recognized the young man as a promising young Roman named Marcus. Marcus' appearance was ragged, his helmet was missing from his head and his fighting dagger was the only weapon he appeared to still possess. His dark skin was covered in dirt from the road which was caked with blood and sweat as well from what had obviously been a laborious fight. There was scratch marks down his cheeks and arm as though a jealous lover had taken her wrath out upon him. There seemed to be a large bite mark on his bicep, it was not a bite from any animal Larcius knew. It looked like a man had taken a piece of his arm away with that bite. The arm hung loosely by his side and his head rolled to look up at Larcius.
"They are not men anymore Commander, nor shall I be for much longer if they have both turned. Kill me, please Commander kill me. I must have my head severed from my neck, please I beg you. I cannot become one of -" there was an odd groaning noise from deep inside the young man and his body began to convulse. He fell awkwardly from his horses' back and Larcius could hear the snap of his neck as his head struck the ground.
Larcius leapt down from his horse, calling to his squad to hurry to his side. He rolled Marcus onto his back and he continued to convulse, making that odd noise in his chest. His eyes weren't moving however, they remained mostly closed nor did he appear to be breathing, just as well as his neck bone was protruding from his neck. Larcius leaned back on his haunches and looked up at the faces of his men. Marcus finally lay still and when Larcius looked down on him again he noticed that the dead man's eyes were now completely open, and darting around in a rapid pattern.
"By the gods," Larcius whispered.
One of his squad members stepped forward and prodded the dead man's side with the end of his pilum, the javelin carried by all foot soldiers of the legion.
"He's moved on this one, " he said as he pushed a second time against Marcus' side but this time what had been Marcus rolled over and bit the legionnaire right on the ankle through his sandal.
"Fucker!" the man shouted and he brought his shield smashing down on the zombii's head, again and again until there was little left. Larcius could hardly believe it but there was no point in denying it now. He felt a terrible sinking feeling in his gut as dread poured into him as he considered their chances of survival is this was a tool of war unleashed upon them. He had to assume all of his light cavalry had been turned as well...and that they were coming this way.
"Can you walk and fight?" Larcius asked the man who had taken the bite.
"I think so sir," he said bravely. When they met eyes it was clear what the legionnaire intended to do. Larcius nodded his consent. The legionnaire turned round and the other two zombii's were approaching, within one hundred yards of their current position. Larcius turned to see Ruffus and Viktor, side by side on the wall looking out at he and his squad. Both faces looked completely drained of colour.
The legionnaire clenched a fist to his chest and nodded to the men around him saluting his squad members for what would be the last time.
Turning towards the zombii's he taunted, "Alright you bastards, let's have it now," and he stalked forward until he was within twenty feet of them. The legionnaire cocked back his arm and threw his pilum with the strength and accuracy of a veteran and professional soldier and it struck the lead zombii square in the chest, a killing blow for a man however this seemed to only knock the creature to it's back from the momentum of the pilum, carrying through it's body. Larcius could see the zombii's head and arms still moving, attempting to reach out to a victim that just wasn't there. The legionnaire advanced on the second zombii, hitting it with his shield, it stumbled and again with the ease of a man of arms he stepped forward with a striking blow across the arm that reached out for him. The razor sharp short sword severed the arm cleanly at the elbow and the man carried the momentum of that strike through to a second slash across the neck. The head fell from it's body and there ceased to be activity from that body. Larcius watched with grim satisfaction as the struggling zombii trapped with the pilum buried in it's chest was dispatched as the trooper smashed his shield onto it's skull.
"Inside, all of you and take my horse," Larcius ordered the rest of the squad as they marched back into the fort.
"What's your name soldier?" He asked the legionnaire.
"Jovinus Orcta Silvanus, Commander I know what you must do but promise me something first Commander," Jovinus said, his brown eyes alight and burning with passion.
"What can I do?" Larcius asked.
"If you survive what is to come and you make it back to Aquincum to report to the Legate what happened here look for the house with the long green banner out front. It is down the street from the Legate's headquarters and is where I lived with my wife and son, it is her fathers old house. My wife, Alexa, will be there minding the place and my seven year old boy will be there as well. Tell her I died in service to my Emperor and that I shall wait for her on the other side," tears were in his eyes as he knelt before his Commander.
"I shall tell them you died with honour, a soldier's death," Larcius said. He stood behind the legionnaire and placed his gladius at the base of the neck, he brought the blade up and pushed it through his neck. Completely severing the spine and major arteries from reaching the brain, it would be a sufficient wound to prevent the man from turning into a zombii.
Larcius carried the body back into the fort with him.
"We shall burn his body tonight upon a pyre," he said as the gates closed behind him.
"Commander," Ruffus called from the battlements, "he won't be the only one...take a look at this."
The early morning sun had risen sufficiently to give the field before the fort a large dose of sunlight and along the beaten path the three men had come this morning there tracked a large body of slow moving men. Very large. And they were not men, it was an army, an army of zombii.
The call to arms sounded just after sun up. Larcius rubbed the sleep from his eyes but he was already slipping on the heavy leather kilt and armoured belt before the second call went out ten seconds later. He pulled the tunic over his head and began working on putting on his grieves and arm guards when a knock came at his door.
"Enter," he said gruffly as he continued to do up the straps on his armour. The night-watch sergeant stepped into his quarters, a short and somewhat small Serb the man was named Boian. "Three men sir, approaching on horseback. Moving slow and showing signs of battle, they are definately some of ours Commander," Boian said.
"I will be with you presently Boian, please send a squad to open the gate for these men," Larcius instructed as he saw Ruffus move into his quarters to do up his chestplate, the final piece of his armour. As Ruffus began to work on tightening the straps, Larcius remained silent.
"Thank you Ruffus, now, let's go see what the excitement is all about shall we?"
They both left Larcius' quarters and moved at a brisk pace to the platform built beside the wall so they could look out over the field in front of the fort. The place was buzzing with activity as three hundred and fifty foot soldiers readied themselves for combat. His battle group was one hundred legionnaires and fifty archers in support as auxilaries. The other two infantry groups were commanded by his two senior lieutenants, Ruffus being one and the other a gruff Serb named Viktor. Viktor was stalking towards them as well and saluted as he approached.
"Commander my men are equipped and ready for battle," he said smartly with a thick accent.
"Viktor let us pray it does not come to that, come with me gentlemen let's take a look," Larcius said taking the steps quickly, they again groaned in protest at his bulk.
The blank stares amoung the soldiers who were on the watch duty fell upon their commander. Larcius spotted the three men quickly, they were moving very slowly, within four hundred feet from the gate. His dark brown eyes squinted to better see the men moving towards them, the sun was at his back and he thought he recognized all three faces although battered and bloodied they were.
"Zombii..." One of the Slavic men whispered a little more loudly than he'd thought as he hissed it out with a sharp breath.
Larcius snapped his head towards the man and was about to scold him when Ruffus tapped his shoulder and pointed back towards the three men. One was jerking violently and was actually attempting to grab one of his companions from his horse.
"What the hell," Ruffus said.
Viktor leaned forward to whisper to Larcius and Larcius twisted his head to provide a better angle and as he looked over his shoulder he saw the stable master, Dragan, standing amoungst the gathered troops, he clutched an aged sword, longer than the short sword worn on the hip by the legionnaires and there was a fire in his eyes.
"That man is no fool, those horsemen could be zombii-" Viktor could say no more as the flailing horseman finally grabbed hold of his exhausted victim and pulled him to the ground roughly from the saddle. This startled the third horse and the rider seemed to wake somewhat and he kept the horse moving towards the fort at a good pace.
There were three archers on the wall, they immediately began fumbling for arrows from their quivers. At this distance they would do little good, these men were by no means highly skilled archers and there was no sense in firing at both men.
"Hold," Larcius barked.
"They couldn't get a kill shot anyway Commander," Viktor said. This remark only earned a silent look from Larcius.
There couldn't possibly be anything to merit this folly of zombii. It was a myth and a superstition handed down to each generation to scare obedience into poorly behaved children.
"Stay here, I'm taking a squad out there," Larcius said. He pushed past his lieutenants and walked down the creaking stairs. His personal guard, a squad of ten men stood waiting for him.
"Dragan could you please fetch a horse for me," he said meeting the old man's stare. Dragan shuffled off in the direction of the stables, still clutching the old cavalry sword in his hand.
Pacing over to the squad he instructed them to secure the third rider and make sure his injuries were attended to. Dragan had lead his horse over by the time his instructions were dealt the the wooden gate stood open with the lone rider nearly to the fort.
Heaving himself onto the back of the horse he kicked it forward, Viktor and Ruffus stared down at him and he felt their eyes on him as he left the fort. He passed the third rider on the field, the man was barely able to lift his head to meet Larcius' eyes. He recognized the young man as a promising young Roman named Marcus. Marcus' appearance was ragged, his helmet was missing from his head and his fighting dagger was the only weapon he appeared to still possess. His dark skin was covered in dirt from the road which was caked with blood and sweat as well from what had obviously been a laborious fight. There was scratch marks down his cheeks and arm as though a jealous lover had taken her wrath out upon him. There seemed to be a large bite mark on his bicep, it was not a bite from any animal Larcius knew. It looked like a man had taken a piece of his arm away with that bite. The arm hung loosely by his side and his head rolled to look up at Larcius.
"They are not men anymore Commander, nor shall I be for much longer if they have both turned. Kill me, please Commander kill me. I must have my head severed from my neck, please I beg you. I cannot become one of -" there was an odd groaning noise from deep inside the young man and his body began to convulse. He fell awkwardly from his horses' back and Larcius could hear the snap of his neck as his head struck the ground.
Larcius leapt down from his horse, calling to his squad to hurry to his side. He rolled Marcus onto his back and he continued to convulse, making that odd noise in his chest. His eyes weren't moving however, they remained mostly closed nor did he appear to be breathing, just as well as his neck bone was protruding from his neck. Larcius leaned back on his haunches and looked up at the faces of his men. Marcus finally lay still and when Larcius looked down on him again he noticed that the dead man's eyes were now completely open, and darting around in a rapid pattern.
"By the gods," Larcius whispered.
One of his squad members stepped forward and prodded the dead man's side with the end of his pilum, the javelin carried by all foot soldiers of the legion.
"He's moved on this one, " he said as he pushed a second time against Marcus' side but this time what had been Marcus rolled over and bit the legionnaire right on the ankle through his sandal.
"Fucker!" the man shouted and he brought his shield smashing down on the zombii's head, again and again until there was little left. Larcius could hardly believe it but there was no point in denying it now. He felt a terrible sinking feeling in his gut as dread poured into him as he considered their chances of survival is this was a tool of war unleashed upon them. He had to assume all of his light cavalry had been turned as well...and that they were coming this way.
"Can you walk and fight?" Larcius asked the man who had taken the bite.
"I think so sir," he said bravely. When they met eyes it was clear what the legionnaire intended to do. Larcius nodded his consent. The legionnaire turned round and the other two zombii's were approaching, within one hundred yards of their current position. Larcius turned to see Ruffus and Viktor, side by side on the wall looking out at he and his squad. Both faces looked completely drained of colour.
The legionnaire clenched a fist to his chest and nodded to the men around him saluting his squad members for what would be the last time.
Turning towards the zombii's he taunted, "Alright you bastards, let's have it now," and he stalked forward until he was within twenty feet of them. The legionnaire cocked back his arm and threw his pilum with the strength and accuracy of a veteran and professional soldier and it struck the lead zombii square in the chest, a killing blow for a man however this seemed to only knock the creature to it's back from the momentum of the pilum, carrying through it's body. Larcius could see the zombii's head and arms still moving, attempting to reach out to a victim that just wasn't there. The legionnaire advanced on the second zombii, hitting it with his shield, it stumbled and again with the ease of a man of arms he stepped forward with a striking blow across the arm that reached out for him. The razor sharp short sword severed the arm cleanly at the elbow and the man carried the momentum of that strike through to a second slash across the neck. The head fell from it's body and there ceased to be activity from that body. Larcius watched with grim satisfaction as the struggling zombii trapped with the pilum buried in it's chest was dispatched as the trooper smashed his shield onto it's skull.
"Inside, all of you and take my horse," Larcius ordered the rest of the squad as they marched back into the fort.
"What's your name soldier?" He asked the legionnaire.
"Jovinus Orcta Silvanus, Commander I know what you must do but promise me something first Commander," Jovinus said, his brown eyes alight and burning with passion.
"What can I do?" Larcius asked.
"If you survive what is to come and you make it back to Aquincum to report to the Legate what happened here look for the house with the long green banner out front. It is down the street from the Legate's headquarters and is where I lived with my wife and son, it is her fathers old house. My wife, Alexa, will be there minding the place and my seven year old boy will be there as well. Tell her I died in service to my Emperor and that I shall wait for her on the other side," tears were in his eyes as he knelt before his Commander.
"I shall tell them you died with honour, a soldier's death," Larcius said. He stood behind the legionnaire and placed his gladius at the base of the neck, he brought the blade up and pushed it through his neck. Completely severing the spine and major arteries from reaching the brain, it would be a sufficient wound to prevent the man from turning into a zombii.
Larcius carried the body back into the fort with him.
"We shall burn his body tonight upon a pyre," he said as the gates closed behind him.
"Commander," Ruffus called from the battlements, "he won't be the only one...take a look at this."
The early morning sun had risen sufficiently to give the field before the fort a large dose of sunlight and along the beaten path the three men had come this morning there tracked a large body of slow moving men. Very large. And they were not men, it was an army, an army of zombii.
Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat I
Part One: The Night
It was a lonely post, and boring too, Larcius thought as he saluted with a clenched fist to his breast as the men stationed for first watch took their places on the wall. He waited while the men took their places and nodded as their sergeant got them arranged in their places and he trusted the man to maintain the watchfulness of the men under his command.
Larcius moved down the wooden stairs and each stepped creaked under his weight, he stood half a head taller than most men, was muscled from a life of constant training and action and was weighed down by his full armour and weapons.
They had spent the last month building the fort, it was an attempt to expand the boundaries of the empire's Pannonian border. Located fifteen miles from the city and fort at Aquincum this fort was surrounded by a heavy forest and many Slavic villages. The villages populations were made up of Serbs and Croats, barbarians who were mostly passive unless their land was taken away, this unlike the Germanic tribes who oft invaded in large parties and fought pitched battles with legions of Roman soldiers. Larcius had once served on that border but a misjudgment in battle had landed him halfway across the empire to a province who had but one stationed legion.
For the last hundred years the Slavic tribes of this region had been pounded into subservience and most were content with moving away from the ever expanding border of the empire.
Larcius moved towards his quarters, tonight he would sit alone and write his weekly report to be taken to the Legate of the II Adiutrix legion. It was in the Legate's lavish office where he was told he was to take a band of misfits and auxiliaries 15 miles from the border and establish a fort for future occupation. He would have five centuries under his command, one and a half cavalry and three and a half foot. With this he would routinely patrol the surrounding area and protect the fort while it was constructed by the army of workers who would accompany them.
And so far they had far exceeded their original expectations. By the first week he had surveyed the walls and they were almost completely in place with a ditch dug around the entire perimeter and by the third week oversaw the erecting of the barracks, stables, officer's quarters and the mess hall. They were now into their sixth week and all the men were beginning to dull with the routine of inaction. He had sent the cavarly on a patrol east to west this morning and they ought to return within the next two hours before nightfall.
He passed some men and continued on without socializing or inspecting their work if they were not off-duty. He was nither in the mood for banter or criticism. His friend and lieutenant Ruffus was approaching with a broad smile on his face.
"Larcius old friend, please tell me you aren't going to turn me down for a game of dice," he moved in closer and lowered his voice, "we need to talk, now. In private."
The words made it an order but the tone of his voice was something different, Larcius could sense a nervousness and fear in his lieutenants voice. Fear was not a typical tone to hear from Ruffus and as such it threw Larcius off kilter.
"I would never dream of it Ruffus," Larcius responded as they stepped into his quarters and closed the door behind them. His quarter's was a small hut constructed of wood with just two small rooms. He moved into the open bedroom and began to remove his armour and weapons.
"Speak Ruffus," was all he said and he removed his helmet and began working on the buckles of his chestplate.
Ruffus was looking out of one of the windows and removed his own helmet, placing it on the spartan table and pulled back a chair to sit on. He ran his hand through his dark hair and moved down to scratch the beginnings of the beard that had started to grow in the last couple days. Larcius' own head was completely shaven and he paused after removing the chestplate to look out the doorway of his bedroom at his old friend.
Looking up Ruffus managed an odd smile and got up again and looked out the window.
"I overheard a few of my men talking while they worked today. They spoke of a dark evil from long ago, of an affliction that makes men look dead but somehow they are still alive. They said they have seen omen's that do not bode well for us. I know what you're thinking but these are men who I know have fought and killed men before, this is not the idle chatter of adolescent boys. It rattled me the way they spoke of these creatures."
"Ruffus they are superstitous and the stories you have heard warrent no merit or concern. Why should you be so affected? We are not going to be attacked by invincible creatures from hell, I ought to send you up on the wall for the night watch for bringing such talk to me as though we are about to have a mutiny on our hands," Larcuis retorted. Completely shed of his armour, save for his thick leather kilt he removed his dirty, sweaty tunic and grabbed a new one from his clothing chest.
"Wine?" he asked as he walked past Ruffus and grabed a wineskin from a seperate chest and without waiting for an answer placed two glasses on the table.
"Please. I don't know how to respond to you Larcius. You know me not to be a fright or a gossip but the way the men spoke..." Ruffus said no further as he raised the glass to his lips and took a very long sip.
Looking down at the table in front of him Larcius thought for a moment more before speaking again. His intial reaction had been disbelief, now he was bordering on anger.
"Perhaps it has been too long a day and the work too mundane. Tonight we shall dine with the men and perhaps their spirits shall be lifted," he said biting back the sharp words he thought of unleashing upon his old friend.
"Very good sir," was all Ruffus said in reply.
That night most of the men, save for the one and a half centuries who were either on guard or would take up the other half of the night watch ate and drank their rations of salted pork and wine together. There was a forced labour to the conversation for those men who were Serbs or Croats which was about half the men. These men had primarily served as auxilaries to the II Adiutrix and were easily replaced amoung the population of Aquincum. When it reached three hours after sundown and the night began to take on a slight chill most men had already found their bunks. Ruffus was no where to be seen and Larcius left the party of officers to continue their conversation of women and feats of valor to check in with the stable master.
He could not recall during their dinner nor after hearing the cavalry come back from patrol. The stable master was an old Slav by the name of Dragan. He entered the larger of the two stables where Dragan had actually made his home only to find it abandoned. It was a bright night, the moon nearly full and he strained his eyes trying to pierce the darkness.
"No one is going to come back Commander," Dragan said, the voice coming from the darkest corner of the stable.
"Who do you speak of Dragan? I have come to inquire after the cavalry, you have received no word from Fronto?" Larcius asked, speaking of the lieutenant of his cavalry detachment.
"No sir, nor do I suspect we will. There have been bad omen's of late, first the men found a dead hawk outside the gate this morning," Dragan spoke softly.
"Surely you don't expect me to be bothered with this," Larcius said, a little more than frustrated, as he turned to leave Dragan spoke again.
"The bird was an albino, this is a very bad sign amoung my people. Also the carpenters hauled in a dead tree today, this tree was black, black as the darkest night I have ever seen. There has been other signs, death is descending upon this place."
"So we are all to die then? Am I to wake up tomorrow in the underworld? Shall I pack some coins with which to bring the ferryman?" This was said with more than a little sarcasm.
"No. What I meant was the dead descend upon us. The living dead. The only way to kill such a creature is decapitation. Cut the legs out from under it and it will pull itself along the ground towards you. It's the biting that turns you. A bite will turn a man in under an hour into one of those things. I saw one once, when I was a very young boy. A man, or what we thought was a man, came into our village. He had vicious bite marks on his arms and shoulders and barely had the strength to walk let alone wield the bloody sword he carried. He spoke of a terror that wiped out his family, slow moving but relentless, pressing and ever pressing against the gates until they broke. He thought he had made it safe from his village but ran into a group not a mile from our town. He had tried to kill the wretched beasts but was taken from behind. He warned us off, warned us they were coming. He had my father cut his head from his shoulders without flinching or any fear. He feared becoming one of them more than certain death. That Commander Larcius is what decends upon us." Dragan was shaking and his eyes were closed, reliving his story.
"Dragan that story may work to prevent your children from running away but it will not keep me awake this night. You are lucky no one is around, I would have to have you punished if you spoke in such a way in front of the men. I am to be notified immediatly upon the return of our cavalry, they have obviously camped for the night and will return in the morrow." Larcius turned and stalked off to his quarters, fuming with frustration over the sudden superstition that the men seemed to have adopted because of the number of times the wind blew and the colouring of dead plants and animals.
He stepped into his dark quarters and by memory took the five paces to his bedside and removed his clothing and was in his bed sleeping within minutes.
It was a lonely post, and boring too, Larcius thought as he saluted with a clenched fist to his breast as the men stationed for first watch took their places on the wall. He waited while the men took their places and nodded as their sergeant got them arranged in their places and he trusted the man to maintain the watchfulness of the men under his command.
Larcius moved down the wooden stairs and each stepped creaked under his weight, he stood half a head taller than most men, was muscled from a life of constant training and action and was weighed down by his full armour and weapons.
They had spent the last month building the fort, it was an attempt to expand the boundaries of the empire's Pannonian border. Located fifteen miles from the city and fort at Aquincum this fort was surrounded by a heavy forest and many Slavic villages. The villages populations were made up of Serbs and Croats, barbarians who were mostly passive unless their land was taken away, this unlike the Germanic tribes who oft invaded in large parties and fought pitched battles with legions of Roman soldiers. Larcius had once served on that border but a misjudgment in battle had landed him halfway across the empire to a province who had but one stationed legion.
For the last hundred years the Slavic tribes of this region had been pounded into subservience and most were content with moving away from the ever expanding border of the empire.
Larcius moved towards his quarters, tonight he would sit alone and write his weekly report to be taken to the Legate of the II Adiutrix legion. It was in the Legate's lavish office where he was told he was to take a band of misfits and auxiliaries 15 miles from the border and establish a fort for future occupation. He would have five centuries under his command, one and a half cavalry and three and a half foot. With this he would routinely patrol the surrounding area and protect the fort while it was constructed by the army of workers who would accompany them.
And so far they had far exceeded their original expectations. By the first week he had surveyed the walls and they were almost completely in place with a ditch dug around the entire perimeter and by the third week oversaw the erecting of the barracks, stables, officer's quarters and the mess hall. They were now into their sixth week and all the men were beginning to dull with the routine of inaction. He had sent the cavarly on a patrol east to west this morning and they ought to return within the next two hours before nightfall.
He passed some men and continued on without socializing or inspecting their work if they were not off-duty. He was nither in the mood for banter or criticism. His friend and lieutenant Ruffus was approaching with a broad smile on his face.
"Larcius old friend, please tell me you aren't going to turn me down for a game of dice," he moved in closer and lowered his voice, "we need to talk, now. In private."
The words made it an order but the tone of his voice was something different, Larcius could sense a nervousness and fear in his lieutenants voice. Fear was not a typical tone to hear from Ruffus and as such it threw Larcius off kilter.
"I would never dream of it Ruffus," Larcius responded as they stepped into his quarters and closed the door behind them. His quarter's was a small hut constructed of wood with just two small rooms. He moved into the open bedroom and began to remove his armour and weapons.
"Speak Ruffus," was all he said and he removed his helmet and began working on the buckles of his chestplate.
Ruffus was looking out of one of the windows and removed his own helmet, placing it on the spartan table and pulled back a chair to sit on. He ran his hand through his dark hair and moved down to scratch the beginnings of the beard that had started to grow in the last couple days. Larcius' own head was completely shaven and he paused after removing the chestplate to look out the doorway of his bedroom at his old friend.
Looking up Ruffus managed an odd smile and got up again and looked out the window.
"I overheard a few of my men talking while they worked today. They spoke of a dark evil from long ago, of an affliction that makes men look dead but somehow they are still alive. They said they have seen omen's that do not bode well for us. I know what you're thinking but these are men who I know have fought and killed men before, this is not the idle chatter of adolescent boys. It rattled me the way they spoke of these creatures."
"Ruffus they are superstitous and the stories you have heard warrent no merit or concern. Why should you be so affected? We are not going to be attacked by invincible creatures from hell, I ought to send you up on the wall for the night watch for bringing such talk to me as though we are about to have a mutiny on our hands," Larcuis retorted. Completely shed of his armour, save for his thick leather kilt he removed his dirty, sweaty tunic and grabbed a new one from his clothing chest.
"Wine?" he asked as he walked past Ruffus and grabed a wineskin from a seperate chest and without waiting for an answer placed two glasses on the table.
"Please. I don't know how to respond to you Larcius. You know me not to be a fright or a gossip but the way the men spoke..." Ruffus said no further as he raised the glass to his lips and took a very long sip.
Looking down at the table in front of him Larcius thought for a moment more before speaking again. His intial reaction had been disbelief, now he was bordering on anger.
"Perhaps it has been too long a day and the work too mundane. Tonight we shall dine with the men and perhaps their spirits shall be lifted," he said biting back the sharp words he thought of unleashing upon his old friend.
"Very good sir," was all Ruffus said in reply.
That night most of the men, save for the one and a half centuries who were either on guard or would take up the other half of the night watch ate and drank their rations of salted pork and wine together. There was a forced labour to the conversation for those men who were Serbs or Croats which was about half the men. These men had primarily served as auxilaries to the II Adiutrix and were easily replaced amoung the population of Aquincum. When it reached three hours after sundown and the night began to take on a slight chill most men had already found their bunks. Ruffus was no where to be seen and Larcius left the party of officers to continue their conversation of women and feats of valor to check in with the stable master.
He could not recall during their dinner nor after hearing the cavalry come back from patrol. The stable master was an old Slav by the name of Dragan. He entered the larger of the two stables where Dragan had actually made his home only to find it abandoned. It was a bright night, the moon nearly full and he strained his eyes trying to pierce the darkness.
"No one is going to come back Commander," Dragan said, the voice coming from the darkest corner of the stable.
"Who do you speak of Dragan? I have come to inquire after the cavalry, you have received no word from Fronto?" Larcius asked, speaking of the lieutenant of his cavalry detachment.
"No sir, nor do I suspect we will. There have been bad omen's of late, first the men found a dead hawk outside the gate this morning," Dragan spoke softly.
"Surely you don't expect me to be bothered with this," Larcius said, a little more than frustrated, as he turned to leave Dragan spoke again.
"The bird was an albino, this is a very bad sign amoung my people. Also the carpenters hauled in a dead tree today, this tree was black, black as the darkest night I have ever seen. There has been other signs, death is descending upon this place."
"So we are all to die then? Am I to wake up tomorrow in the underworld? Shall I pack some coins with which to bring the ferryman?" This was said with more than a little sarcasm.
"No. What I meant was the dead descend upon us. The living dead. The only way to kill such a creature is decapitation. Cut the legs out from under it and it will pull itself along the ground towards you. It's the biting that turns you. A bite will turn a man in under an hour into one of those things. I saw one once, when I was a very young boy. A man, or what we thought was a man, came into our village. He had vicious bite marks on his arms and shoulders and barely had the strength to walk let alone wield the bloody sword he carried. He spoke of a terror that wiped out his family, slow moving but relentless, pressing and ever pressing against the gates until they broke. He thought he had made it safe from his village but ran into a group not a mile from our town. He had tried to kill the wretched beasts but was taken from behind. He warned us off, warned us they were coming. He had my father cut his head from his shoulders without flinching or any fear. He feared becoming one of them more than certain death. That Commander Larcius is what decends upon us." Dragan was shaking and his eyes were closed, reliving his story.
"Dragan that story may work to prevent your children from running away but it will not keep me awake this night. You are lucky no one is around, I would have to have you punished if you spoke in such a way in front of the men. I am to be notified immediatly upon the return of our cavalry, they have obviously camped for the night and will return in the morrow." Larcius turned and stalked off to his quarters, fuming with frustration over the sudden superstition that the men seemed to have adopted because of the number of times the wind blew and the colouring of dead plants and animals.
He stepped into his dark quarters and by memory took the five paces to his bedside and removed his clothing and was in his bed sleeping within minutes.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Great Works & Works in Progress
Reading is one of my favourite pastimes, it has been for a number of years. I think it's probably a motivation for why I write. Reading is very important to me and I think it's important for everyone to do, it's definintely necessary for any writer to do.
For me I associate certain times of my life with books that I read at the time (I do the same with music too) and it seems I spend every summer reading a series. I don't know how this started but it is a trend that began a couple of years ago.
Currently I'm reading a great series by Naomi Novik, the story follows Captain Will Laurence and his dragon Temeraire. It is based in fantasty but when read feels more like historical fiction than anything else. It's definitely a good read and I always like to advertise a good book (or books!) when I come across one (or them!).
I have decided that I will be entering some writing contests next year. What will likely happen is I will post the bits of the story as they come to me on this blog. Partly because I need to write somewhere and I like to have the posts on here to keep you reading and because I wouldn't mind some comments on what is good, what is bad and any other thoughts on what I've posted. Once I know what contests I will be entering I will know what kind of stories I will be writing, although I do have a couple ideas that I was hoping would become more clear to me so I can write about something other than well; writing.
Fearless Reader I promised you I was back and I am. I am more serious than ever and there will be some serious writing, not just blog posts headed your way shortly. Until then though I hope that you don't mind reading my blog. I certainly enjoy writing it.
Don't let your guard down!
For me I associate certain times of my life with books that I read at the time (I do the same with music too) and it seems I spend every summer reading a series. I don't know how this started but it is a trend that began a couple of years ago.
Currently I'm reading a great series by Naomi Novik, the story follows Captain Will Laurence and his dragon Temeraire. It is based in fantasty but when read feels more like historical fiction than anything else. It's definitely a good read and I always like to advertise a good book (or books!) when I come across one (or them!).
I have decided that I will be entering some writing contests next year. What will likely happen is I will post the bits of the story as they come to me on this blog. Partly because I need to write somewhere and I like to have the posts on here to keep you reading and because I wouldn't mind some comments on what is good, what is bad and any other thoughts on what I've posted. Once I know what contests I will be entering I will know what kind of stories I will be writing, although I do have a couple ideas that I was hoping would become more clear to me so I can write about something other than well; writing.
Fearless Reader I promised you I was back and I am. I am more serious than ever and there will be some serious writing, not just blog posts headed your way shortly. Until then though I hope that you don't mind reading my blog. I certainly enjoy writing it.
Don't let your guard down!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
War and Peace
One of the things that brought me back to writing was a card. Whenever I receive a card be it christmas, birthday, erotic love poems or otherwise I put them into the same drawer in my room.
Every couple years I clean out this drawer as it gets full, recently (just after my birthday) I grabbed all the cards and put them on the floor and got rid of lots of them. I held onto a few, those that stirred me when I read them again and the rest went into the trash. One such card was for winning a poetry contest back in Grade 12 at my high school. There was a contest on who could write the best Remembrance Day poem and a teacher of mine (one of my earliest and biggest fans) said I should enter.
Now poetry is not my thing, this is probably one of ten poems I have ever written in my life and certainly the only one I am happy with. I guess there are too many amateur poets out there and I have read too many bad poems that all said the same thing to be interested in writing them. Don't take that as a knock against poetry because I do love reading a truly good poem, however a lot of the new material I encounter is crap. Straight up. With all of this in mind, Remembrance Day and patriotism are two things that are important to me and this was at probably the most creative time of my life so I tried my hand at a poem.
I am about to share that poem with you Fearless Reader but first let me finish my story about 'the card.' I entered this poem into the contest and it won. When my family had heard the news they did something special for me, they did some writing of their own, in a card and their words inspired me. I know that no matter what, I will always have some Fearless Reader's out there and that warms my heart. But it is truly special to receive comments and especially positive feedback from your loved ones about something that is near and dear to you. I re-read that card not long ago, it was one of the things that has brought me back from the dead. Now here is the poem as promised, I hope you enjoy it.
War and Peace
The dust has settled, and the smoke has cleared,
the fires have been extinguished, and the rubble has been removed,
the buildings are rebuilt, and the crops resown.
Is this peace?
Because our cities aren't in ruin?
Because our sons aren't off to war?
Because our houses stand, unravaged by the horrors that we have forgotten?
Has the world really changed that much?
War to peace. Impossible.
Fight to keep peace;
the irony defeats the practicality.
The irony is:
Sublime.
Somewhere, a mother's son is at war,
Somewhere, smoke rises above the smoldering carcass of a town,
Somewhere, a family sleeps in the street because their house no longer stands,
Somewhere, mines lay slumbering and ambushes wait,
Somewhere, there is a war raging.
Tearing a hole in the blanket of peace we thought covered the world.
And as the bullets fly, and the bombs drop, and the sons die.
Somewhere far away from our homes;
we are smug enough, naive enough to believe,
that there is peace.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Top Ten Things You Won't Do Before You Die
Here's a list of things you will (probably) never get to do before you die and should probably want to. Now before you read this please don't go trying all these things, they could be hazardous to your health.
- Blow up the Death Star. I mean seriously this is a massive space station the size of the moon and is completely invincible save for a 2 metre access hole that is buried in a kilometre deep trench guarded by turrets, TIE fighters and Darth Vader, who doesn't to stick up their middle finger and score one for the Rebellion?
- Destroy the One Ring. I promise the whole list won't be nerdy but this probably doesn't even require explanation right? Right.
- Rock a stadium, whatever your music preference you can't deny you have imagined winning over a crowd of tens of thousands by coming on for just one more encore after the audience chants your name.
- Scoring the winning goal to win the Gold Medal in the olympics, this just beat out the winning the Superbowl scenario but remember I'm Canadian so hockey has to take the cake on this one. And Sidney if you're reading this you are more than welcome to prove this list wrong eh?
- Slap the pope in the face, I'm insinuating I want to do this but that has got to be difficult no? And you would totally go to Hell to that, one way ticket baby!
- Shoot at bad guys while hanging out of the window of a speeding car. "Now drive, drive, drive!!"
- Reach your full potential, OK I admit I did put this on the list to challenge you but seriously there is a commanding percentage of the population of which this applies.
- Fly down that one street in San Francisco in the movies where the cars always go so fast and go airbourne a bunch of times. Imagine yourself in a restored '75 Camaro SS or a Lambourghini Murcielago as you put the accelerator to the floor.
- Be able to do the things that the Dog Whisperer does to your dog all the time, seriously. If you have seen that show you know what I mean, if you haven't you should, very entertaining.
- Survive the Zompocalypse. The statistical probability that many of you will survive the Zompocalypse is very low. This is exception of course to your following of my Z-Day guide which I posted last summer and of course if you happen to be lucky enough to be in the band of fighters organized by myself.
P.S. Feel free to say 'I totally did that dude...' but be prepared to prove it!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Back from the Dead
Fearless Reader,
It has been a long time, a very long time. I'm back from the dead, so it seems, but not as a zombie. No sir. It's still me, warm blood, blue eyes and all. I can't really say what has dragged me back after what we both probably considered a permanent hiatus. I guess it turns out that I need you Fearless Reader, I'm not sure why but there is a burning desire in me to continue what we started. So old friend let's pick up where we left off...
I need to admit that I wanted this to be over, I wanted to believe that I wasn't good enough and that I didn't need to do this but as time went by I came to see that maybe neither of those things are true.
Post a comment, friends new and old. Let me know you're out there. Wandering around in a world full of zombies is a difficult thing, we fellow survivors need to know the other is there. I'm back Fearless Reader and I hope to be improved and more secure now that I've returned. I wanted to bring you the best in me and perhaps maybe you'll show me the best in you too. It's been a long time comin'.
Stay frosty zombie hunters,
C. Mudge
It has been a long time, a very long time. I'm back from the dead, so it seems, but not as a zombie. No sir. It's still me, warm blood, blue eyes and all. I can't really say what has dragged me back after what we both probably considered a permanent hiatus. I guess it turns out that I need you Fearless Reader, I'm not sure why but there is a burning desire in me to continue what we started. So old friend let's pick up where we left off...
I need to admit that I wanted this to be over, I wanted to believe that I wasn't good enough and that I didn't need to do this but as time went by I came to see that maybe neither of those things are true.
Post a comment, friends new and old. Let me know you're out there. Wandering around in a world full of zombies is a difficult thing, we fellow survivors need to know the other is there. I'm back Fearless Reader and I hope to be improved and more secure now that I've returned. I wanted to bring you the best in me and perhaps maybe you'll show me the best in you too. It's been a long time comin'.
Stay frosty zombie hunters,
C. Mudge
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