Tuesday, August 11, 2015
[Script] Unfood - Page 11
CONTINUED: 11.
FREIGHT
That’s not fair!
JUDGE
Actually its very fair. Its more
fair than your justice.
FREIGHT
I do not.
JUDGE
No thank you. Do either of you
have anything to say in your
defense?
AARON
Fuck you.
KENDRA
I’m with Aaron. Fuck you.
JUDGE
Is that your final word?
KENDRA
Fuck you (beat) Your honor.
JUDGE
I hereby find Aaron Plantain and
Kendra Kargo guilty of the crimes
leveraged against them. They are
both sentenced together to fifteen
years on the nearest penal colony
to repay their debt to
society. Freight Kasniket, you
have found a technicality in the
law, and are thus exempt from
prosecution, but because you
encouraged others to help in your
unethical defense we are going to
add another year to your crew
mate’s sentences to discourage
others from behaving in a similar
fashion.
FREIGHT
What? That’s not fair.
JUDGE
You are losers in a virtuous
war. It is not your right to
determine what is or isn’t
fair. And, on a personal note, yes
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
Monday, August 10, 2015
Mr Right and Mr. Kind
I have often listened to unusual stories in my travels, and when I was in New Orleans I heard a fascinating tale that is difficult to relay in its exactitude, simply due to the magnificent fact that I am an observer but not a teller of tales. Indeed, the National Story Teller's convention is one of the premier events in the nation. It is similar in size to that of your own, but vastly most important in ours. Story Telling is an art, and quite frankly one I pick up only given my hefts and shadows of your world.
I could go on, but that's not the point. I want to share it while it is still fresh in my mind, or at least the start.
There are two mice, technically three mice but third only looms like a shadow unseen. Mr Right, Mr Kind and Mr Necessary.
Mr Kind is beloved by all, for he is always kind. Indeed, I must admit that it was the knowledge of this character that had me choose the superpower I mentioned in the Letters to Rhombus section I mentioned earlier. There is not a mean bone in Mr Kind's body. He cares how everyone feels and works as hard as he can to do good to his fellow man, always at his own expense. Everyone loves Mr. Kind, and he is regarded fondly. Sometimes, black hearted souls will have a bit of fun at Mr. Kind's expense, but there is always a tongue lashing from those who truly love him and respect him. These foul vagrants are few and far between. At least as if you would hear Mr. Kind tell of it. Mr Kind's associates might think that the number twere a bit higher in point of fact, since Mr Kind is not merely kind, but exceptionally so, and it is an unfit thing that Mr. Kind is not not in a kind world, but generosity does meet generosity and despite deprivations, Mr. Kind is fed a constant stream of good deeds, and gets by, not the least of which is his brother.
Mr Right is an upstanding fellow. He is not, per se, a pillar of the community, for he has neither the affability of Mr. Kind nor the predestination of luck or station that would make him a leader of mice, but he does have a charisma and flare that allow him to be taken seriously in any circle in which he may find himself. His ambition and his determination have made him wealthy and stable, and he often uses these things in the aid of his less fortunate brother. For you see Mr Right desperately wishes that he were Mr. Kind, but knows he cannot be so. Mr. Right has certain things that prevent this, among the which is his propensity for being Right. Hence his name. Being right has its rewards, for it gives a certain certainty and understanding of people and events and the world to come, but it also has scars that few can see. It is important, to note, gentle reader, that the right that Mr. Right is is ACTUALLY right, not pretends to be right. A mouse cannot find himself in a situation of being right without correcting himself as early and as often as one need be. And in the beginning, when one starts down the path of being right, or doing what is right, or standing for the right, one often finds more often than not that so long as one is willing to give up the the comfort of lies, one can see what is in the world and what must be. In some circles of thought this is Wisdom, but being Right is a much harsher thing than Wisdom. Many or any can have wisdom, but Right is applied Wisdom, often almost compulsively so, but no one will ever thank you for it. No one will say, "Terwhilickers, I am so glad Mr. Right is right about that!" Few care about the truth, fewer still care about the ultimate truth or honor of a situation. And the truth is often unkind. Mr Right helps Mr. Kind, and Mr. Kind helps Mr. Right to avoid becoming Mr. Necessary.
Neither say much about their third brother. He is never seen, for he would never allow it. Mr. Right, it is said by neighbors and relations, once started out as delightful as Mr. Kind. Mr. Kind and Mr Right were both gentle souls, but Mr. Right saw that something must be done and went about taking action, either directly or indirectly advocating that folks follow the right path. As I said, eventually Mr. Right ended up Right almost all the time...but the whittling down and harshness of this part by doing what is Necessary became somewhat if not almost entirely unkind. But Mr. Necessary never hesitated. And he is not always right, though he frequently consults his brother, Mr. Right, to ensure that his actions are justified. Can you imagine what Mr. Necessary might think is Necessary? The end of that cat, irrespective of its owner's sadness at its loss, the destruction of that cheese factory because it might be used to trap mice along the way? Vast and impressive are the talents of Mr. Necessary. He terrifies the children of the village it is sure, and Mr Necessary is out there, keeping the wicked in check...he does good of a sort, but no one loves him, everyone hates him and any constable worth his salt will see Mr. Necessary in irons...if they catch him.
An interesting three they are. I have been assured by the teller of the tale at the small gathering that they have many adventures, implying a whole book worth, but I only got this snippet..I found it fascinating. But I must ask you gentle neighbor, which brother would you be? What good is being Right when you are unkind? What good is doing what you deem Necessary if you are not Right in the action of it? I think there is a moral there, and it is clear for me to see that being all three; Right and Kind and Necessary may be possible in a saint, but for the likes of those of who are mortal (and I assure you dear reader, fictional though I may be, I am quite mortal...even more so than TC) we have to pick and choose.
I choose kind. I would be a friend and have friends. I am content with that. Until later.
I could go on, but that's not the point. I want to share it while it is still fresh in my mind, or at least the start.
There are two mice, technically three mice but third only looms like a shadow unseen. Mr Right, Mr Kind and Mr Necessary.
Mr Kind is beloved by all, for he is always kind. Indeed, I must admit that it was the knowledge of this character that had me choose the superpower I mentioned in the Letters to Rhombus section I mentioned earlier. There is not a mean bone in Mr Kind's body. He cares how everyone feels and works as hard as he can to do good to his fellow man, always at his own expense. Everyone loves Mr. Kind, and he is regarded fondly. Sometimes, black hearted souls will have a bit of fun at Mr. Kind's expense, but there is always a tongue lashing from those who truly love him and respect him. These foul vagrants are few and far between. At least as if you would hear Mr. Kind tell of it. Mr Kind's associates might think that the number twere a bit higher in point of fact, since Mr Kind is not merely kind, but exceptionally so, and it is an unfit thing that Mr. Kind is not not in a kind world, but generosity does meet generosity and despite deprivations, Mr. Kind is fed a constant stream of good deeds, and gets by, not the least of which is his brother.
Mr Right is an upstanding fellow. He is not, per se, a pillar of the community, for he has neither the affability of Mr. Kind nor the predestination of luck or station that would make him a leader of mice, but he does have a charisma and flare that allow him to be taken seriously in any circle in which he may find himself. His ambition and his determination have made him wealthy and stable, and he often uses these things in the aid of his less fortunate brother. For you see Mr Right desperately wishes that he were Mr. Kind, but knows he cannot be so. Mr. Right has certain things that prevent this, among the which is his propensity for being Right. Hence his name. Being right has its rewards, for it gives a certain certainty and understanding of people and events and the world to come, but it also has scars that few can see. It is important, to note, gentle reader, that the right that Mr. Right is is ACTUALLY right, not pretends to be right. A mouse cannot find himself in a situation of being right without correcting himself as early and as often as one need be. And in the beginning, when one starts down the path of being right, or doing what is right, or standing for the right, one often finds more often than not that so long as one is willing to give up the the comfort of lies, one can see what is in the world and what must be. In some circles of thought this is Wisdom, but being Right is a much harsher thing than Wisdom. Many or any can have wisdom, but Right is applied Wisdom, often almost compulsively so, but no one will ever thank you for it. No one will say, "Terwhilickers, I am so glad Mr. Right is right about that!" Few care about the truth, fewer still care about the ultimate truth or honor of a situation. And the truth is often unkind. Mr Right helps Mr. Kind, and Mr. Kind helps Mr. Right to avoid becoming Mr. Necessary.
Neither say much about their third brother. He is never seen, for he would never allow it. Mr. Right, it is said by neighbors and relations, once started out as delightful as Mr. Kind. Mr. Kind and Mr Right were both gentle souls, but Mr. Right saw that something must be done and went about taking action, either directly or indirectly advocating that folks follow the right path. As I said, eventually Mr. Right ended up Right almost all the time...but the whittling down and harshness of this part by doing what is Necessary became somewhat if not almost entirely unkind. But Mr. Necessary never hesitated. And he is not always right, though he frequently consults his brother, Mr. Right, to ensure that his actions are justified. Can you imagine what Mr. Necessary might think is Necessary? The end of that cat, irrespective of its owner's sadness at its loss, the destruction of that cheese factory because it might be used to trap mice along the way? Vast and impressive are the talents of Mr. Necessary. He terrifies the children of the village it is sure, and Mr Necessary is out there, keeping the wicked in check...he does good of a sort, but no one loves him, everyone hates him and any constable worth his salt will see Mr. Necessary in irons...if they catch him.
An interesting three they are. I have been assured by the teller of the tale at the small gathering that they have many adventures, implying a whole book worth, but I only got this snippet..I found it fascinating. But I must ask you gentle neighbor, which brother would you be? What good is being Right when you are unkind? What good is doing what you deem Necessary if you are not Right in the action of it? I think there is a moral there, and it is clear for me to see that being all three; Right and Kind and Necessary may be possible in a saint, but for the likes of those of who are mortal (and I assure you dear reader, fictional though I may be, I am quite mortal...even more so than TC) we have to pick and choose.
I choose kind. I would be a friend and have friends. I am content with that. Until later.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Interview W Julia
Interview w Julia Ricks, wife of quasi deceased podcast founder T.C. Ricks on the day of her last class in Librarian School.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
[Script] Unfood - Page 10
CONTINUED: 10.
FREIGHT
I think I have something here.
JUDGE
Really?
FREIGHT
Alright, according to your own
laws, we have 30 days for
adjustment and recentering,
whatever that means.
JUDGE
Yes. What of it?
FREIGHT
Well according to my reckoning, you
only implemented your new smuggling
standards three weeks ago, right?
JUDGE
(cautiously)Yes.
FREIGHT
So that violates this law here that
gives a minimum period of
readjustment.
JUDGE
(reluctantly) Yes.
FREIGHT
So....we’re free then, right?
JUDGE
You are, yes.
FREIGHT
Wait. What?
JUDGE
Your crew is being charged with
obstruction of justice.
FREIGHT
What?!
JUDGE
Aaron destroyed evidence. Kendra
tried to lie for you by stalling
just now.
(CONTINUED)
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
[Script] Unfood - Page 9
CONTINUED: 9.
JUDGE
Ignorance of the law is no defense.
Your ship’s log shows you had more
than adequate preparation to know
about the proper jurisdiction.
KENDRA
That doesn’t mean anything.
Freight flips through the laws. He starts flipping at
random and then gazes in the index.
FREIGHT (WHISPERING)
Stall!
JUDGE
Yes it does.
KENDRA
What do you mean?
JUDGE
It means, as far as we’re
concerned, the fact that you knew
how harsh our laws are means you
can’t use ignorance as a
defense. You can’t even use it as
a mitigating circumstance.
KENDRA
But (interrupted)
JUDGE
Did I mention we have very
sophisticated microphones? We can
hear anything you say.
KENDRA
Crap.
JUDGE
Stalling only makes your case look
worse.
FREIGHT
WAIT!
JUDGE
(sighs)
Yes?
(CONTINUED)
Monday, August 3, 2015
Bridge To Nowhere
As I watch the planes fly overhead and the tanks rumble down I-10 toward the Texas Nation. Operation Jade Spear and Magic Helmet is moving to keep migrating Texans from stumbling over the border looking for work. But I don't want to talk about Politics...God knows that's pointless and boring...you get what you vote for...
But I do admire the conviction in the young men's faces. They're so determined to keep the union together for another twenty years until Texas decides it doesn't want to be a state again. But I nearly served in Operation Distraction, literally thirty minutes from the draft. Yeah, Vietnam sucked for you guys, but at least the got rid of the draft over there.
The thing that I have to ponder as I sit on top of the railing on the Bridge between Loisiana and Texas as you see Petuniaville sprawling out to the East, sprawling as far as the eye can see, billowing fumes of every color of a demented electric Ozian rainbow flowing up into a chartruse and vomit emerald sky. There's no fire quite like an oil fire, and for those rare portals to fiction in the sky you can see (if you know how to look) the choking faces of giants and genies and Pegasus as they try not to breath in the burning blood of the Earth.
It's hell. War is hell of course but this is something else again. Ring after ring ripples in the heat, distorting ten as the tanks drive by. Every third vehicle is a tanker since the enemy is known to cut supply lines (given the rather ineffective weaponry they have compared to a modern militiary.) Texas is the most armed nation on Earth...but by treaty they don't have anything manufactured (legally) after 1910....oops?
When I look at the Bridge in the Bayou, I see a bridge everywhere, worlds of hope and terror with possibilities and adventure I have generally been too cowardly to take. When I look at the Bridge over the River, a see a bridge to nowhere...going nowhere with no hope. There won't be any lasting change, not when people don't want it. What is the point of war? It is mankind's most destructive endevor.
I take swig from my flask, once again considering the dramatis personae potential of lighting a cigarette I wouldn't smoke, or even a lollipop Kojak style. But I shrug and begin to walk down, passing the occasional straggler, walking slowly after the tanks. Even in this era there are Camp Followers, that curious ecology of war that depend on destructionfor existance. Its a bit like an oasis in the desert in a sick sort of way.
Until later.
But I do admire the conviction in the young men's faces. They're so determined to keep the union together for another twenty years until Texas decides it doesn't want to be a state again. But I nearly served in Operation Distraction, literally thirty minutes from the draft. Yeah, Vietnam sucked for you guys, but at least the got rid of the draft over there.
The thing that I have to ponder as I sit on top of the railing on the Bridge between Loisiana and Texas as you see Petuniaville sprawling out to the East, sprawling as far as the eye can see, billowing fumes of every color of a demented electric Ozian rainbow flowing up into a chartruse and vomit emerald sky. There's no fire quite like an oil fire, and for those rare portals to fiction in the sky you can see (if you know how to look) the choking faces of giants and genies and Pegasus as they try not to breath in the burning blood of the Earth.
It's hell. War is hell of course but this is something else again. Ring after ring ripples in the heat, distorting ten as the tanks drive by. Every third vehicle is a tanker since the enemy is known to cut supply lines (given the rather ineffective weaponry they have compared to a modern militiary.) Texas is the most armed nation on Earth...but by treaty they don't have anything manufactured (legally) after 1910....oops?
When I look at the Bridge in the Bayou, I see a bridge everywhere, worlds of hope and terror with possibilities and adventure I have generally been too cowardly to take. When I look at the Bridge over the River, a see a bridge to nowhere...going nowhere with no hope. There won't be any lasting change, not when people don't want it. What is the point of war? It is mankind's most destructive endevor.
I take swig from my flask, once again considering the dramatis personae potential of lighting a cigarette I wouldn't smoke, or even a lollipop Kojak style. But I shrug and begin to walk down, passing the occasional straggler, walking slowly after the tanks. Even in this era there are Camp Followers, that curious ecology of war that depend on destructionfor existance. Its a bit like an oasis in the desert in a sick sort of way.
Until later.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
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