chapter one

"He holds him with a skinny hand
 There was a ship..."

Charging up the central corrider, Houlihan with more speed than could be expected of a man his age.

The Master Chief passed crew members without a nod, quite unusual crew members said in retrospect, from a man who always stopped to check on crew members he knew or a polite nod at those he didn't.

Not today.  Noncoms (and even officers)  jumped aside as he passed, relieved not to be his target destination.  Few of them had seen the e-vids of an organism known on their home planet known as a bull much less the boxing movie known as raging bull now desolate but home planet, earth, but all were prudent

Not that he was hard man to work under. He managed to be gruff but universally revered. Even when a subordinate totally screwed up, he would deliver his criticisms, not skimping on the seriousness of the error, but always with a twinkle in his eye, an other aspects of body language that said, "I know you can do better than this."  And most everyone did.

But now he was muttering under his breath, also anomalous, something about Alpha-Beta-Tois, a hideous amalgamation of greek and French that had become the unfortunate for name for the frontier planet, loacated a parsed etc, where they were currently grav-anchored. name, parsec.

Others believed he something more akin to "Al-buh-tross" which made little sense in the aftermath.

He pushed aside the slow automatic door to the bridge, where his personal friend Craig T. Knowlan sat in the captain's seat.
"Cr..." then realizing his mistake but unable to take it back he continued "aption".
Sadly this uncharacteristic apse came together for all ears as "Crapton".

Captain Knolen's face went rigid along with everyone else in the command center, all finding something else fascinating on their displays, their uniforms, or their cuticles.


Captain Nolan nodded toward the door leading to his quarters.  When it shut everyone gasped, wheezed or quitly jiggled with subdued laughter.  Many had been on the verge of explosion, but master chief Houlihan deserved that kind of respect.

Inside the captains quarters Within a nanosecond of the door shutting
"Craig, something's just night right here!"

Before a quarter of an hour passed, every one of the 23 souls he was charged with training and protecting would suffer a hideous death.


"And now there came both mist and snow"
Strella
somethings going on here
hates name, starts worksheet
looks up,
everyone looking at her, her best friend avoids eye contact
except for school mean girl who delivers the line.
 "And now the storm-blast came"
back to H?
disaster

"The bride had paced into the hall"
then strellas disaster



then Jace introduction
"I looked upon the rotting sea"



Equally devastating to his psyche was that he would violate the three priorities he expected of himself and others:

stay calm
respect rank
be precise







He broke the first rule after pushing aside the slow automatic door to the bridge, where his personal friend Craig T. Knowlan sat in the captain's seat.
"Cr..." realizing his mistake but unable to take it back he continued "aption".
His uncharacteristic lapse came together for all ears as "Crapton".











Include big bang forces being held then let go
The rock shows both views  BBC and galaxy...one where stones found

Don't forget history 
One before moving higher intelligence coincidentally created must be provision. Galaxy stone
Post emp humanity
End of first book..
And the wall began to glow...


M
He could rip you a new one and hand you the old one on a platter when you screwed up.  But always there was an indifference that let you know that over the y ears he had seen it all.

So the wise ones stood straight, confessed it all, and often witness that momentary twinkle in this eyes, that said, "You're better than this."  And damned if you didn't start beliving it after he said it.  Scoes, efficiency drills

Right now neither eye twinkeld.
He has heading up the main tube from engine room to bridge like a locomotive.  The winkle was  replaced bya teeljaw attitude.
Not a time tfor cachat or Hey or morning...this 5x10 by n3qarly 5 6could mow you over.

And he was muttering under his breath
and mumbling under breath the worst sign which meant ithat he was not only instituionally angry by personally so.  Nothing good would of getting causht in crossfiare of that  chiefs emtotins.

one recruit hearhim in his mumbling dangerousway, Ill be void fu cked before keep quiet about this  and went to meet Nathan Abrams, a long time friend who had makde godfather of this kids.
bidge coffereance room
waiaite d until nld.  ou assholetommy, why didnt yu tell how bad it wass up here...weve done two rebuils, studied every linkage.

the minute we to obit of thiscursed planet we got bad liuck.
I do and you do and dont you tell me you made a command decision cimply bcause you felt lucky?

Dursed like in that old lColerage book, remember?

What else would it be since you ugly mug overloked mwhen Sluzanne decide to marry me rather than yu.

Rock of the Ancient Mariner, forward, chapter 1?

He stomped to the fore deck with every inch of a master seargents authority.  Officers and noncoms stepped out his way.
Not just because of his girth, squarish, short loaded with muscle an attitude.  Respect: he had saved innumerable vessels with his engineering brilliance and though he was on of the oldest, he was regarded with awe and every crewmate felt safer knowing he was incharge of propulsion.

chieh master seargeany highest
af
nv master chief
ch200 people ief okay
hair incident
marine corp

clint eastwood, played mster seargeant.

hat off remove cover
carry respect as an officer
khakis like ofrficer
dont call mee sir i work for a living

npncom
had y\to enlist
work for every advance, stripe




goog morning sir vs master chief
button missed on shirt
throw a salute

scariest person senior chief
nothing
seen or heard
always some one with bigger rank that you needed to suck up to.

they met
non come tying shoes,
limited space say kahikis
sorry sir
did you just call me sir
no sir yes maste chief
Let me tell you something recruit
ys sir
I work for a living.
Therefore you wil cal me master chief.  do you understand this recruit.
yes s-maste seargeant.
say again?
master seargeant.
good
and remember the little rabbit around the big (give techincal, secs realated ddescription)

Observed by captain.
harsh reprimand considering he only saw officer slacks and prob ably never ieven came near a ms, let alone spoke to one weaqring similar gear, head down and unable to see that special button on your shoulder.to our left eyeballing us.
I behaved exactly as ptehier expecas

No, sir.  Did you see those two skytechs pretending to inventory tools twent meeterTRIONS REQUIRE AS A MASTER SERAGEANT. tO DO OTHER WISE MIGHT RESK THE EXPECATIONS OF OF SUPERIOURS AND THE RESPECT OF SUBORDINATES.
CAPTAIN GLANCED AT TWO MEN WORING AGAINST THE WALL.
hOU NEVER MISS A THING DO YOU MS.
nO, SIR. AND THATS WHAT KEEPS THOSE UNGAINLY BIRRDS FROM GOING PLANETSIDE, NOT A SIGNGLE SIYSTEM MUST GO UNCHECKED, EVERY SUBCOMPONENT CHECKED AND CERTIFIED.
THATS WHAT KEEPS THOSE UNGAINLY BIRDS FROM GOING PLANET SIDE.
aND WE COMMANDER SKY JOKIES DO APPRECIATE THIS AND THOUGH WE LACK YOU ENGINEERING INSIGTS, WE DO OCCSIONALLY NOTICE SMALL IRREGULATRITIES.
ms PAUSDES, PERPLEXED, USCH AS WHAT SMALL EBACK YOU SLIPPPED IN YOUR BACK POCKET BEFORE YOU HANDED  THAT RECRUIT HIS ASS ON A PLATTER.
ms LOOKDS DOWN.  jUST AN EBOOK SIR, ONE MY GRNADMOTHER READ ME.
mIGHTG i EWNQUIRE AS TO THE TITTLE, ms.
SQUARES SHOULDERS, SMILES, AND PULLS OUT THE THATTERED EBOOK., THE COMPLETE WOWRKDS OF sAMUAQL TAYLOR cOLERIDGE.
cOLLERIDGE, mASTER, SEARGEATNT, tHE rHYME OF THE aNCIENT mARINER WAS ONE OF HIS BEST.
hIS 

bEST, SIR.
pERHAPS AND SOME LESS DIRE MOMENT WE COULD SHARE A DRINK AND OUR MEMORIES OF (USE QUOTE).

cHapter where capt reminiseces on hiring him...someone who mnever missies a thing, who wlhen something wasnt quite right, intuitive, not just techinial.  So he had arranged to have him relieased and sent here.  there was something not quite rigfht about this quadrant.

void fucked
void jump
void head
void tard
(void being description also void jumper, new propulsion system that made light bending speeds possible.

 chapter order
1. explosion something not right, not spec
2. Strella somehing wasnt right
3. Jaces reaction
4. Jace's father, story of reprimand, regret about outcome of alpha-T.  Old mans discharge. Awareness that Jace was late, sorrow about wife.
3. jaces reaction
5?  secene where strella comes home distraught, he is unfeeling and working on quadarant map. drawing xs across plentetoids that stood in the way of his plans.
6? Void rescue time, recovery, talked books--felt he owed him that,
discuss situation with albatross--chiefs response that though there appeared to be a cause effect, even a mere pulse technician would make that jump, life and these ships are too complicated, not a yes no binary system--yes he void fucked his whole crew and that's why he had to pay for it.
7. chapter or chapters on wisdom learned  fear of dark,look close, never miss anything

father or chief takes fatal space walk?
motivation of each
things rising eta in so many minutes, any kind of weapons would take us down  bbe gun
void jump requiresw that they jettis main drive system because of weight.
fagther locks door to drive pod.
the father turn to be noble...need to establish motive for going out.
8. Antherbase commader chapter

father first officer in first scene?

void stone...what it ells them, jace reads after being void fucked

Jc not jace old man name.\

mother's death related to commanders plans.

void jumping facilitated by creating spaceways, void sstones stry to warn them from folly.  
how does it connect with attack so that "not this time" works for person who knocks the other out.

something special about planet about to be destroyed (jace reads map, strella recognizes it from father's maps)

eating phos, phos eater jace finds the old man prospecting on night he abondons popular girs party.
went there hooping  to see strella only.  the dark is ccary.

8. scene talking t friend about party, not seeing all of him on vid, considered fool because he declines.

shuttle has just enough fuel to reach condemned planet.

something incredible there thaat must be saved, but what?

sees old guy working on machinery, winks and pulls out his galaxy rock.
jace pats his pocket. old man winks.
(implies previous exchortation to keep it with him for good luck)

final exam as teacher

The circle is broken

start with beach boy test
 lead to Enders
the student who spoke out
an uncomfortable but now in retrospect rewarding spanking

The one who spoke out about my celll phone edict
you gave it to us
you cant effectively use it
now you blame us because we use in ways far beyond what you imagined?
finally got the student response I wanted.

Every generation loses touch with its progeny because of different experiences.
Not every one has found themselves estranged because the new one can do
something we cant...

Use the tools we created in new ways...
adapted so quickly to the new world, which changes at a more rapid rate
than ever.

Final day of teaching was a success, despite tears.

Every word he spoke was w

There is no force darker, more demonic
Than the heart that has relinquished hope.

without sacrifice,
love is an empty promise

is null, null set?

verily verily I sat unto you
(I'm tellin' ya straight up)

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
Do me a solid and back atchya.

The difference between
truth and lies
the vanquished and the fallen
is conviction


Morning Walk

Deep thunk, falling waves
A purple etched horizon
Better than coffee.

To The Fellowship

A solemn moment:

At precisely 2:48 this afternoon, The Vessel of Friendship was commended to the deep blue.
There  were but two witnesses--the ghost of abalones past (pictured below) and the High Priest of Rock and Glass (me).

The priest used his ceremonial hammer to transform The Vessel for its journey.

The glass shards resulting from this holy ritual were interred beneath the waves.  Each shard bore a memory of the year 2013:  moments of laughter, love, and sympathy--not to mention the one shard that diminishes with each heartbeat and guides all others: TIME and the willingness to share it with others.
In this new year I wish to share more of this precious commodity with you.

But if required in some dire future, 'tis said all those who partook of The Vessel in its fullness on the last night of 2013, will witness a miracle.  Though scattered across the sea's remote corners, these separate shards of glass will reassemble and restore The Fellowship of the Bottle.

Erstwhile, feel free to observe this momentous day as you wish.  Perhaps a moment of silence or a healthy dose of liquid libations...

Naturally, this spiritual landmark will inspire visitations by pilgrims.  The Ghost of Abalone's Past can be found at 9540 Avonne Ave #25, San Simeon, California, where it leans against the door of a miniature lighthouse.  Should The High Priest of Stone and Glass be in residence, prepare yourself with a three dollar offering.  After a short ritual involving three, four-sided objects to test your worthiness, the priest may bless you with his powerful wisdom:

"Is that all you got?  Let's roll again--and don't even think about those damn quarters!"

1/1/14 

Existence and Why God a Shortsale

If you're not into pondering deep or offended by my borrowed concepts (from St. Augustine, Locke, Nietzsche, CS Lewis and various others who have dabbled in metaphisics) read on.  Other wise, find another blog, unmute the TV, or change channels to another universe; you won't be the first.

Many philosophers and now institutionalized patients have tried to understand the enigma of existence.
You now, why and how can there be stuff, dirt, sky, you, me and a universe without limits.  Except for a few obvious contradictions, you would be smart to bet against it.  There's nothing, nowhere and nobody.  Simple. to believe in nothing

But the minute allow for some "thing," you get slapped in the face by cause and affect.  If  you walk into the house with dirt on your feet, that dirt came from somewhere, maybe a beach, maybe a mud hole you traipsed across on your recent walk.  A where did the dirt originate?  And by extension, the our solar system, the coalescence of matter known as our galaxy, and the big bang thing that supposedly intiated our universe, and what about God or whatever prime forces caused it to be? 
Don't go there, the most direct route to madness if that's your fixation.

Instead, I start with an old analogy.  The piano.  A wife wants a piano and has it delivered.  Because of limited square footage she had the delivery man just opposite the staircase leading to their bedroom. 
Now the husband hates pianos and is angry about his wife's purchase.

He has several options, one a weird high road of denial: it's not there, and I refuse to recognize the piano's existence.  Which in theory is a workable solution except that every morning when he comes down that stairway he slams into a piece of furniture that (theoretically) isn't there.  What are his options?
He could continue the bruising that results from denial
He could except the existence of the piano and walk around it.
Even if he set on fire, he would have to clean up the mess or hiring someone remove it for him, he would have to face the mover's bill.
Either way, the piano is there and whatever you do with it further confirms it exists.

In the same way some people say life is just a dream, nothing real.  Well then, who's dream?  Even the entiriety of human consciousness is but uncomfortable case of gas inside one of George Herbert's sand worms, we're here, we exist.

Now writing to a blog audience is an exercise faith.  Did people read it?  Maybe not and though I can count the small numbers of people who've accessed my blog, this could all be a dreamlike illusion on my part,  the fact remains.  If there is a dream, there has to be dreamer.

So let's not waste our time if with apriori arguments.  Stuff is, however you interpret it, and there's no way you can explain away a face in the mirror any more than that Toyota out in your garage (which really needs an oil change if you want to keep driving it).  Someone tried to derail me on whether matter is a shared experience.  He asked, "You see the color red and identify certain objects like tomatoes, fire trucks, and blood that share that quality?" 
"Yes, " I said arrogantly tried to predict where his argument was going, "and I know that it's only red because that's the bandwidth of light that these objects reflect.  So if you want to get stupid, red is every other color but red, a color not absorbed by an object and sloughed off by physics.  Therefore, black is white (which reflects everything) and is the most colorful shade because it aborbs all wavelengths of light.
My friend, a patient man, waited out my high school science explanation and said, "That's not what I'm talking about."
"Then what?"
"Behind your retina and lining the back of your eyeball are rods and cones."
"That's the say I remember it."
"Well, when you perceive a ripe tomato and see the color red how do you know I don't perceive your equivalent of blue?"
I thought a moment.  "Because blue is cold color and red is warm one."
"So, extend my argument to concept of warm and cold colors..."
"Okay, I see what your saying, what I see as warm colors shades of orange, could corollaries in your mind of what I would call blue and green.  We  can never experience another's experience."
"No fucking difference as long you and I can agree what's blue, what's red and likely to piss off our wives if combine those concepts by choosing closthes that are stylistic abominations, right.  You can continue in your altered universe of blue being red and we will have no problem as long as there is a universal agreement on sets and subsets that identiy these concepts.
"Otherwise, insanity?"
"Obviously, insanity is another concept we apply to people who behave or think in ways that do not conform to the most widely held norms of humanity.
:"Widely held?  That make "sanity" sound like a popularity contest, one that schizophrenics always lose.
"Forget insanity.  It's a legal term for someone no longer able to consistently behave in normative ways, especially applicable when their actions might lead them to hurt themselves or other.



Stuff is, we manipulate it with tools, we derive energy  and grow tissue from other the remainder of which has to flushed.  It's all matter, whether stuff that can be aligned on a periodic table, or antimatter or dark matter, stuff we have no clue about so shut the fuck up about the whole matter and lets move on.

andrei spy spoof, don't publish

Released temporarily from his duty to educate minds and mold character through the rigors of water polo, sleeper agent code name "Tinko" slumbers peacefully until shudder is followed by vibration. The large jet bumps and bounces along the runway before taxying to a stop.  He yawns and settles back into his seat, betraying only the barest hint of a smile--he is now connected to precious earth of the Ukraine..

He has to set things right, or at least try to, but is limited by time.  

Grey and dreary, the Kiev airport stares oppressively back at him from the other side of his window, and he thinks momentarily of booking an immediate flight back to the US.

"Nyet!" he vows as his facile mind effortlessly orients itself to the required lingua franca.  He would not forsake his compatriots, all of them willing die in order to push a beleaguered nation into a modern economy and fight indefinitely against the entrenched puppets who inhibit labor, stifle growth, and the national prosperity that would result from joining the European Union.

No longer drowsy, his every step across the causeway linking airplane to airport, infuses him with both energy and the happy anticipation of meeting with the activist leaders who wait nearby.  Will they agree to his plan? Can he make it all happen before the thirteenth of January when he must return to the California and resume his other life?

  

"As God wills it," he says quietly to himself and follows the signs with their Cyrillic characters that seem odd but comforting.  It's late night in this time zone and he draws little attention from a few jet-lagged travelers who trudge from sign to sign until arriving at the place where he will retrieve a single but crucial piece of luggage..

He thinks about the sun, the warmth that blessed his face on a far away beach.  Did he make the right choice? His elderly parents in Fresno will worry about his absence. Those friends along the coast might miss him.

"Cause is all," he tells himself and reaches for the carefully packed suitcase. 

No more kissing the poisonous tit of Mother Russia, he tells himself.  The Ukraine will rise from its knees and embrace the future.   

Then a few more of his lanky strides, and he is beyond the airport's final doors, exposed to a chilling wind and the embrace of a half dozen strangers.  Are they friends or Yunukovic spies?