Some people call me Matthew. I don't know why. Well, I know why. It is my legal name. But I'm still a bit taken aback when I hear it used. It doesn't bother me - call me what you will, I will always be Me. But Matthew? It's so formal. Isn't it? There's nothing wrong with that, but I'm not one to parade about in suits all day. I don't know
Some people call me Matt. That's my name. My name name, the one people use. It's kind of short and to the point... only four letters. But hey, that's all I need. It's also fairly brusque... it's got sharp edges everywhere. Sharp like my wit. I hope that doesn't drive people away. But I can't be bothered if it does...
Matt Lund! They say that's my full name, but it's not. It's full enough for them. Doesn't take much of Matt Lund to overfill that cup. Oddly... this name is more used and heard than Matt by itself. That's because this one is stranger friendly. Anybody can get away with using the Full Name Clause. It amuses me when people I barely know use my full name. It's like they want to be in on some grand joke somewhere, and I'm it. Which, while shallow, is kind of neat.
Now, my name in Hebrew or Greek or something of that nature means "Gift of God." Obviously God didn't part the clouds on the day of my birth and say "hey, world. Check this kid out!" But he did make me... so there's that.
A very few people call me ML10. It's simple. It's an abbreviated form of "Matt Lund + 10," which means... nothing really. It's just a way we say we're cool. Or powerful. Or... yeah, that's pretty much it. After performing my MLK speech (Identity) a friend decided that MLK stood for Matt Lund 1000. That's apparently my power level, and while it's not quite over nine thousand, it's pretty good.
Some people call me Dom. Dommy. Dominic.
And this is my way to wrap up this piece. Poorly, and without conclusion.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Empire Earth?
They say I can't do it. They say it's impossible. They say I'm out of my head.
But then I spring my trap.
You see, by thinking that I cannot achieve my goal, fulfill my dreams, they have essentially revealed themselves for who they truly are. Their programmed responses. Their lies. How can they strike down a dream that isn't even fully recalled? A dream that isn't fully formed?
It shows us who they realy are. Murderers of an idea. Slaughterers of change (AND redefinition). They have their world how they like it - when, where, and how they like it. So naturally, any "threat" to this empire must be discouraged, destroyed - but not violently, oh no. With violence and oppression comes rebellion, and despite their colossal claims, there is no organization fit to squelch the might of the masses.
No, not violence - simple subversion. Simple to the point where the slightest detection of it seems to extend beyond comprehension. Some of us call that hegemony. Some of us call it manipulation. The name doesn't matter - what matters is that everything in this life be it light and dark, right and wrong, or weak and strong - must have an equal and opposite side battling it, and as of yet I have not seen any unified effort to fight this empire earth.
But that is my goal. That is the goal of the Dominists. And if you're one of us, if you're with me, we need to do something about it. Because we can achieve. It's not impossible. And we're not out of our heads.
We are the past, the present, and the future. And it is time.
But then I spring my trap.
You see, by thinking that I cannot achieve my goal, fulfill my dreams, they have essentially revealed themselves for who they truly are. Their programmed responses. Their lies. How can they strike down a dream that isn't even fully recalled? A dream that isn't fully formed?
It shows us who they realy are. Murderers of an idea. Slaughterers of change (AND redefinition). They have their world how they like it - when, where, and how they like it. So naturally, any "threat" to this empire must be discouraged, destroyed - but not violently, oh no. With violence and oppression comes rebellion, and despite their colossal claims, there is no organization fit to squelch the might of the masses.
No, not violence - simple subversion. Simple to the point where the slightest detection of it seems to extend beyond comprehension. Some of us call that hegemony. Some of us call it manipulation. The name doesn't matter - what matters is that everything in this life be it light and dark, right and wrong, or weak and strong - must have an equal and opposite side battling it, and as of yet I have not seen any unified effort to fight this empire earth.
But that is my goal. That is the goal of the Dominists. And if you're one of us, if you're with me, we need to do something about it. Because we can achieve. It's not impossible. And we're not out of our heads.
We are the past, the present, and the future. And it is time.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Probably 111
I hereby dedicate this post to the ToSSB, an internet message board where I've met some inspirational people, and some not inspirational people. Overall, it's just a nice place to come back to.
It's a nice community. We talk about problems, ask for advice, talk about music, life, videogames, poetry, whatever. The members are... interesting. Without a doubt. Some of them stand out above the others in my book, others just... stand in the way.
Probably 111 is an inside joke made by one member who actually was one of the first to start reading my blog. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of my blog readers came from the ToSSB.
I'd like to especially thank Tigeris, gorillatron, and twilightangel0. Why them? Well... because I say so. And to any other ToSSB members who might stumble across this place... you know they deserve it.
That said, you're all great (albiet annoying at times) and it's been fun knowing you. Without you, I'm not sure there would be a blog.
It's a nice community. We talk about problems, ask for advice, talk about music, life, videogames, poetry, whatever. The members are... interesting. Without a doubt. Some of them stand out above the others in my book, others just... stand in the way.
Probably 111 is an inside joke made by one member who actually was one of the first to start reading my blog. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of my blog readers came from the ToSSB.
I'd like to especially thank Tigeris, gorillatron, and twilightangel0. Why them? Well... because I say so. And to any other ToSSB members who might stumble across this place... you know they deserve it.
That said, you're all great (albiet annoying at times) and it's been fun knowing you. Without you, I'm not sure there would be a blog.
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Dominists - Join the Ranks
I saw them the other day. The Dominists. They weren't at all what I was expecting. The way the news made them seem was - I don't know - barbaric in some way. How much farther from the truth could it be?
How many times must I be shown before I stop believing their nonsense? Their lies? And how much worse that of a motive they have none? I'm referring, of course, to the media - that mechanized monster of society which destroys more than unites, hates more than loves, confuses more than... more than anything!
These Dominists were no more rabble-rousers than the men and women who sit in congress. They were poets, thinkers. They were realists with an intent to act. Idealists who knew when to clip the string. They represented hope itself, life and love. They were alive. And for that I respect them.
The Dominists had a hall that they rented weekly. Well, not so much a hall as a meeting room. I'd say there were maybe twenty, twenty-five people there. And not all of one age either, as I had expected. Movements like these generally tended to absorb those of similar culture and experience. But the Dominists, it seemed, were different.
Maybe that's when I first started realizing that they had something right. Something fundamental, basic, down to the earth reality.
The first night I showed up, I snuck in quietly and stood in the back. Looking for a familiar face in an arena where there was none. The members - if they could indeed be called thus - milled around for some time, talking about one thing or another. Science, religion, philosophy, writing. It seemed that anything was up for debate, as long as the arguments on either side were presented clearly and with purpose. Though argument might be the wrong word. There was a bond there. An underlying brotherhood of ideology.
As time dragged on (though it was mere minutes) I began to notice that there was no leader among these men. Each man was himself a leader in one way or another. I was puzzled by this seeming lack of organization, but just as I began to accept and understand the structure, a man stepped forward. The room got deathly quiet. All eyes were turned on him. He stood before us not in splendor, but in common unity. His dress gave no indication that he was the head figure, unlike many meetings of this caliber. In addition, there were no minutes, no positions, no administrators. Just him, and us.
He spoke for a time, and others as well. And I realized that I was one of them. Without doing anything but listening, I had somehow joined the ranks.
Because in them was awakened my own ability to lead. And I've half a mind to do so. Do you?
How many times must I be shown before I stop believing their nonsense? Their lies? And how much worse that of a motive they have none? I'm referring, of course, to the media - that mechanized monster of society which destroys more than unites, hates more than loves, confuses more than... more than anything!
These Dominists were no more rabble-rousers than the men and women who sit in congress. They were poets, thinkers. They were realists with an intent to act. Idealists who knew when to clip the string. They represented hope itself, life and love. They were alive. And for that I respect them.
The Dominists had a hall that they rented weekly. Well, not so much a hall as a meeting room. I'd say there were maybe twenty, twenty-five people there. And not all of one age either, as I had expected. Movements like these generally tended to absorb those of similar culture and experience. But the Dominists, it seemed, were different.
Maybe that's when I first started realizing that they had something right. Something fundamental, basic, down to the earth reality.
The first night I showed up, I snuck in quietly and stood in the back. Looking for a familiar face in an arena where there was none. The members - if they could indeed be called thus - milled around for some time, talking about one thing or another. Science, religion, philosophy, writing. It seemed that anything was up for debate, as long as the arguments on either side were presented clearly and with purpose. Though argument might be the wrong word. There was a bond there. An underlying brotherhood of ideology.
As time dragged on (though it was mere minutes) I began to notice that there was no leader among these men. Each man was himself a leader in one way or another. I was puzzled by this seeming lack of organization, but just as I began to accept and understand the structure, a man stepped forward. The room got deathly quiet. All eyes were turned on him. He stood before us not in splendor, but in common unity. His dress gave no indication that he was the head figure, unlike many meetings of this caliber. In addition, there were no minutes, no positions, no administrators. Just him, and us.
He spoke for a time, and others as well. And I realized that I was one of them. Without doing anything but listening, I had somehow joined the ranks.
Because in them was awakened my own ability to lead. And I've half a mind to do so. Do you?
Friday, April 20, 2007
It is Enough
It is enough to feel
Because to feel is to be
To feel like you be-long
Because what is wrong
Does not stop at the crosswalk
Flickering yellow lights
Do not dissuade the small talk
Run down men in black suits
Trying to shoot down your dreams
They won't tell you how writing redeems
But it is enough to feel
Roadblocks, gunshots, DO NOT ENTER signs
Thing of it is, nobody knows why.
And neither do I.
And maybe I won't see the light
In this life
Or the next time
But I'll still swing by.
Because it is enough to feel.
Because to feel is to be
To feel like you be-long
Because what is wrong
Does not stop at the crosswalk
Flickering yellow lights
Do not dissuade the small talk
Run down men in black suits
Trying to shoot down your dreams
They won't tell you how writing redeems
But it is enough to feel
Roadblocks, gunshots, DO NOT ENTER signs
Thing of it is, nobody knows why.
And neither do I.
And maybe I won't see the light
In this life
Or the next time
But I'll still swing by.
Because it is enough to feel.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
What is Dominism?
I guess it started as a joke of sorts, just a spinoff word from Dom's name, much like the Dominym. Ironically, both have found their own place in reality. And since it's being taken seriously (or since I intend it to be taken seriously) I have to actually take it seriously myself and provide a definition.
Dominism is a combination of realism and idealism.
Yes, these ideas clash. But isn't that kind of like a system of checks and balances when you think about it? Which is nice if you like our system of government.
See, realism has a tendency to become a bit stale. More often people tend to let their realism slide into a sort of pessimism. They use the term realism to distract from the fact that they are in reality, pessimists, which has attained a sort of infamy in today's society. Thus the true meaning of realism has been lost in the societal whirlwind.
Realism was never measnt to kill ideas - it was meant to funnel the attention of people into ideas that were worth acting on, and that is what dominism now represents. I can only hope that those who subscribe to its ranks will increase in number, until one day, when those with a legitimate interest find themselves in a position of power.
Dominism is a combination of realism and idealism.
Yes, these ideas clash. But isn't that kind of like a system of checks and balances when you think about it? Which is nice if you like our system of government.
See, realism has a tendency to become a bit stale. More often people tend to let their realism slide into a sort of pessimism. They use the term realism to distract from the fact that they are in reality, pessimists, which has attained a sort of infamy in today's society. Thus the true meaning of realism has been lost in the societal whirlwind.
Realism was never measnt to kill ideas - it was meant to funnel the attention of people into ideas that were worth acting on, and that is what dominism now represents. I can only hope that those who subscribe to its ranks will increase in number, until one day, when those with a legitimate interest find themselves in a position of power.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Public Education Has Failed Me
Who taught me to write like this? Who inspired me to change the world? Who gave me creative writing classes to explore, delve, discover?
Who told me that I could survive acting and maintain good grades? Who taught me to achieve, to dream? Who taught me the power of spoken word, written word, any word?
Who told me that friends were everything, that grades were nothing?
Who helped me choose science or art? Who gave me the pros and cons, the good and bad of each? Who ever gave a damn?
Not Public Education.
Who told me that I could survive acting and maintain good grades? Who taught me to achieve, to dream? Who taught me the power of spoken word, written word, any word?
Who told me that friends were everything, that grades were nothing?
Who helped me choose science or art? Who gave me the pros and cons, the good and bad of each? Who ever gave a damn?
Not Public Education.
Damn You Society
Years ago they planted it, a tree of ignorance, it's roots twisting deep into the minds of the innocent. Slowly it grips them and pulls them closer, until they become one with the machine, the mechanical tree that slowly devours the greenery around. The damn thing won't burn, won't fall, won't rust. It won't fail, won't falter, won't give up. And while there is something respectable there, I hate the damn thing.
I'd like to think it doesn't have me, like to think that I'm somewhat beyond its reach, but how the hell would I know? The damn thing might have nanobots implanted in my bloodstream for all I know.
But I might as well act as if I am free - work towards its destruction, or at least its restraint. I am able to consider its destruction, which is a comfort, telling me that I do have at the very least some control over myself.
What did it do to me? Nothing that I couldn't handle, not for a while anyway.
But now the piece of shit is ruining my friendships. One friendship in particular. And I won't stand for it.
I'd like to think it doesn't have me, like to think that I'm somewhat beyond its reach, but how the hell would I know? The damn thing might have nanobots implanted in my bloodstream for all I know.
But I might as well act as if I am free - work towards its destruction, or at least its restraint. I am able to consider its destruction, which is a comfort, telling me that I do have at the very least some control over myself.
What did it do to me? Nothing that I couldn't handle, not for a while anyway.
But now the piece of shit is ruining my friendships. One friendship in particular. And I won't stand for it.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
C: And as for Deserving I Will Speak No More
And As For Deserving I Will Speak No More
Beginning with a LoTR quote - priceless.
A cry for help through a blog - that's pretty much what this was. In response to One of Two, you can already see I knew it wouldn't work. So I pretty much went straight to the source and begged for acceptance.
Give some praise now and then. You think I'm satisfied? I'm not. You think I'm okay? I'm not. I'm one messed up guy.
Yeah, this was a sad time in my life to say the least. See, all of my life I had been the good guy. The smart kid. The nice boy. Yeah, that was cool for all of 3.5 seconds. Then it got old, and you know why? Because when you're little and you get those titles, your character is automatically destroyed in the process. You become a symbol of sorts, somebody who's not allowed to be wrong, somebody who's not allowed to be sad or angry. So nobody will ever know or realize when you are sad or angry. So you continue to fill that role - what else is there to do? You keep being the "good guy" and you notice that you never get any payoff for it. You may deserve better, but that's not what you get.
Maybe my constant analyzation of every action I see condemns me to find the faults of people everywhere.
This quote may not seem relevant now, but just wait until the next commentary. It'll make complete sense.
Beginning with a LoTR quote - priceless.
A cry for help through a blog - that's pretty much what this was. In response to One of Two, you can already see I knew it wouldn't work. So I pretty much went straight to the source and begged for acceptance.
Give some praise now and then. You think I'm satisfied? I'm not. You think I'm okay? I'm not. I'm one messed up guy.
Yeah, this was a sad time in my life to say the least. See, all of my life I had been the good guy. The smart kid. The nice boy. Yeah, that was cool for all of 3.5 seconds. Then it got old, and you know why? Because when you're little and you get those titles, your character is automatically destroyed in the process. You become a symbol of sorts, somebody who's not allowed to be wrong, somebody who's not allowed to be sad or angry. So nobody will ever know or realize when you are sad or angry. So you continue to fill that role - what else is there to do? You keep being the "good guy" and you notice that you never get any payoff for it. You may deserve better, but that's not what you get.
Maybe my constant analyzation of every action I see condemns me to find the faults of people everywhere.
This quote may not seem relevant now, but just wait until the next commentary. It'll make complete sense.
C: One of Two
One of Two
I had had just about enough. I was tired of life screwing with me. I was fed up with knowing that
I was pissed. I was upset. And most of all, I was sad. I felt as if I was being treated unfairly. And as for deserving I will speak no more. It is a quote that (I think) had its origins here. And the truly great way of knowing whether a quote is great is if it continues to apply. If it continues to be relevant. And most of all, when your friends start quoting it back at you. I had that privaledge. Not only did it reassure me that, yes, some people do listen, but it also let me know that what I was saying was good enough to be repeated.
So I invented an experiment of sorts (though, in hindsight the outcome should have been obvious). I would try to be the best person I could possibly be. I mean all the way, hardcore 100% try to be perfect. And I'm not just talking about being nice to people, or telling people about Jesus, or helping people with their homework. I mean everything. All that and more. Exercizing, eating healthy, brusing and flossing my teeth. Taking things as they come and being glad for them.
I had to become the ideal human being, both by my own standards and by those of society. That mandated an exceptional level of hygiene, behavior, and other things. The theory was that if "good" people truly got what they deserved, I should be pretty well off. If not, then I would disprove all those optimists and prove that the world is a terrible place, where the good get nothing and the bad get everything.
Well, I suppose I should have just taken a look at the story of Jesus... here is a man that actually was perfect in every way, and they crucified him. That's enough proof for me. This is a terrible place.
OH WAIT, it's Easter today. Which of course is the day that Jesus was resurrected from the dead. So it's not completely hopeless, now is it? Sure, I may not have the power of God, but there is hope. There is always hope.
I had had just about enough. I was tired of life screwing with me. I was fed up with knowing that
"In spite of everything you've done for them, eventually they will hate you."
~Green Goblin, Spider-Man (2002)
I was pissed. I was upset. And most of all, I was sad. I felt as if I was being treated unfairly. And as for deserving I will speak no more. It is a quote that (I think) had its origins here. And the truly great way of knowing whether a quote is great is if it continues to apply. If it continues to be relevant. And most of all, when your friends start quoting it back at you. I had that privaledge. Not only did it reassure me that, yes, some people do listen, but it also let me know that what I was saying was good enough to be repeated.
So I invented an experiment of sorts (though, in hindsight the outcome should have been obvious). I would try to be the best person I could possibly be. I mean all the way, hardcore 100% try to be perfect. And I'm not just talking about being nice to people, or telling people about Jesus, or helping people with their homework. I mean everything. All that and more. Exercizing, eating healthy, brusing and flossing my teeth. Taking things as they come and being glad for them.
I had to become the ideal human being, both by my own standards and by those of society. That mandated an exceptional level of hygiene, behavior, and other things. The theory was that if "good" people truly got what they deserved, I should be pretty well off. If not, then I would disprove all those optimists and prove that the world is a terrible place, where the good get nothing and the bad get everything.
Well, I suppose I should have just taken a look at the story of Jesus... here is a man that actually was perfect in every way, and they crucified him. That's enough proof for me. This is a terrible place.
OH WAIT, it's Easter today. Which of course is the day that Jesus was resurrected from the dead. So it's not completely hopeless, now is it? Sure, I may not have the power of God, but there is hope. There is always hope.
One Year Anniversary
Of the very first journal entry I ever did, which eventually found it's way here. In all actuallity, the first post isn't for some time, but nevertheless this is the one year anniversary of that first writing component which led to the phenomenon you see now.
Somebody bring me a cake.
Somebody bring me a cake.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Ship's Log 477
I will take only eight. Eight men into the darkness. To stem the tide of the evil which we've unleashed. And if it cannot be mended, then in my naievity I have damned the world.
But there is no room for doubt or fear. We must act swiftly and silently, and though we have no way of knowing what lies on the other side, it is our obligation to find out. I have no shame in it's burden.
Men get so blinded by greed. I am no different. I appologize - there was no way for me to know.
But ah, more excuses... They are of no consequence. There is nothing but to make things right.
And if I pass in the trying, I will pass with the knowledge that I did all that I could, with the knowledge that all that I could and all that I would were the same.
Only eight.
But there is no room for doubt or fear. We must act swiftly and silently, and though we have no way of knowing what lies on the other side, it is our obligation to find out. I have no shame in it's burden.
Men get so blinded by greed. I am no different. I appologize - there was no way for me to know.
But ah, more excuses... They are of no consequence. There is nothing but to make things right.
And if I pass in the trying, I will pass with the knowledge that I did all that I could, with the knowledge that all that I could and all that I would were the same.
Only eight.
Oasis (Chain Poetry)
I awoke in the oasis. Three days prior I had been sitting with her. Now she was nowhere.Three days prior I had been drinking fresh water in the city - now I couldn't find a drop.
Only in times of distress can one fully grasp the value of such things.
Since I had been rendered unconscious, I wasn't conscious of the passage of time. I didn't know how long it would be before the hallucinations set in, but I knew they would, knew that the visions of home would take me, the specral visitors from some ungodly realm. Sure enough, as time passed I saw a bird fly overhead - a pelican of all things.
That was when I knew that the insides of my brain had melted into garbage, burned and twisted. No amount of refusal on my part could change that. No matter my resistance, no matter my will. Truly, there could only be compliance.
I let it take me, let the dreams take me on a journey to the beginnings of time itself. To Constantinople, Rome, the burning plains of Africa. I went from black to white, inside to outside, and I saw her at multiple points along the way. But I knew it was mere illusion, could not blind myself to that horrifying reality.
No, my flight could end only in my death, subject to the inevitability of fate. And as I considered this, I wondered aloud, to the trees, to the dust, to the sky.
"What will you do when your time comes?"
Only in times of distress can one fully grasp the value of such things.
Since I had been rendered unconscious, I wasn't conscious of the passage of time. I didn't know how long it would be before the hallucinations set in, but I knew they would, knew that the visions of home would take me, the specral visitors from some ungodly realm. Sure enough, as time passed I saw a bird fly overhead - a pelican of all things.
That was when I knew that the insides of my brain had melted into garbage, burned and twisted. No amount of refusal on my part could change that. No matter my resistance, no matter my will. Truly, there could only be compliance.
I let it take me, let the dreams take me on a journey to the beginnings of time itself. To Constantinople, Rome, the burning plains of Africa. I went from black to white, inside to outside, and I saw her at multiple points along the way. But I knew it was mere illusion, could not blind myself to that horrifying reality.
No, my flight could end only in my death, subject to the inevitability of fate. And as I considered this, I wondered aloud, to the trees, to the dust, to the sky.
"What will you do when your time comes?"
- Oasis
- Value
- Pelican
- Garbage
- Refusal
- Compliance
- Journey
- Time
- Flight
- Inevitability
Thursday, April 5, 2007
You Come Before the Arbiter Fully Armed
"Take a step backwards. Maybe a deep breath or two. Trust me when I say that this won't be easy - especially if this is your first time. Stop looking at me sideways, like I'm overreacting. like I'm some sort of crazy person. This is real.
"If you want to turn away, now's your chance. I won't blame you; nobody will. What you're about to see... well, I'd be lying if I told you it was entirely safe.
"Now, I'm going to count to three, and when I do I'm going to pull back the curtain. Please try your best not to scream. Remember, nobody is forcing you to do this. Okay? Good.
"Three...
"Two...
"One..."
With one sudden movement the Arbiter pulls back the curtain. Despite your best efforts you let out a shriek, and why wouldn't you? Behind the curtain, veiled in the shadows of eternity, waiting as if to trap the darkness itself lies the shimmering panel - the portal into reality. A mirror.
Your scream was not in reaction to your appearance, far from it in fact. Modestly you admit that you have your moments, and this is one of them. Damn, do you look good.
You would that that was enough, but by now you've already realized the horrifying truth. You know what it is that you're seeing, and the Arbiter knows it too. Because beneath the skin and bones, underneath the muscles and organs lies something dark, something evil. It is a specter of everything that you wish you were not. It is all the wrongs you've ever committed. It is your sin, and it crouches before you, baring its teeth, flashing before your eyes the millions of wrongs you've committed, the billions you've thought about committing, and the seemingly infinite hurts you've inflicted without even knowing about it. You watch yourself murder, steal, lie, rape, pillage, judge, desire, and curse the very God that made you. You watch yourself tear the world apart, and you watch yourself laugh as you do it. Finally, you watch as you take your own life, at the end of all things.
You've already reached for your weapon, not realizing it until now. It's extended before you, an addition to a limb, an official part of your body. But the blade is still, silent. It will not speak to silence the monster, because it is in you. It is in you, crouching silently, grinning it's grin, and from yourself there is no escape, even in death. The Arbiter knows this, and as he circles around behind you you dare not take your eyes from the thing before you. That thing you had previously known and loved as your very person.
"Do not be frightened," the Arbiter says slowly, painfully. "The monster is within us all. On you I have worried little, because subject to the laws of man you are, in a sense, without flaw. You've not killed anyone, not stolen anything of great value. In the annals of punishment your name will never appear. Men far worse have crossed my path. Men who have done the things that you have not. But you," he says, trailing off and appraising your weapon. "You see this monster and you have chosen to fight it. And it is for this that you will be saved. Because our time here is limited, and one day we will leave the world of men. Yes, we will leave and enter a world where the law of the spirit reigns above all, subject to which we must all perish eternally. It is not enough to be a good person," he says to you. Your hand tremors slightly and your sweat dampens the hilt of the blade. "You come before the arbiter fully armed, but against this thing no stroke of sword will avail you."
"What chance have I?" You ask, the fear masked, your composure seemingly recovered.
The Arbiter stops.
"You know." He says, and fades away. "You've always known."
And the Arbiter is gone.
"If you want to turn away, now's your chance. I won't blame you; nobody will. What you're about to see... well, I'd be lying if I told you it was entirely safe.
"Now, I'm going to count to three, and when I do I'm going to pull back the curtain. Please try your best not to scream. Remember, nobody is forcing you to do this. Okay? Good.
"Three...
"Two...
"One..."
With one sudden movement the Arbiter pulls back the curtain. Despite your best efforts you let out a shriek, and why wouldn't you? Behind the curtain, veiled in the shadows of eternity, waiting as if to trap the darkness itself lies the shimmering panel - the portal into reality. A mirror.
Your scream was not in reaction to your appearance, far from it in fact. Modestly you admit that you have your moments, and this is one of them. Damn, do you look good.
You would that that was enough, but by now you've already realized the horrifying truth. You know what it is that you're seeing, and the Arbiter knows it too. Because beneath the skin and bones, underneath the muscles and organs lies something dark, something evil. It is a specter of everything that you wish you were not. It is all the wrongs you've ever committed. It is your sin, and it crouches before you, baring its teeth, flashing before your eyes the millions of wrongs you've committed, the billions you've thought about committing, and the seemingly infinite hurts you've inflicted without even knowing about it. You watch yourself murder, steal, lie, rape, pillage, judge, desire, and curse the very God that made you. You watch yourself tear the world apart, and you watch yourself laugh as you do it. Finally, you watch as you take your own life, at the end of all things.
You've already reached for your weapon, not realizing it until now. It's extended before you, an addition to a limb, an official part of your body. But the blade is still, silent. It will not speak to silence the monster, because it is in you. It is in you, crouching silently, grinning it's grin, and from yourself there is no escape, even in death. The Arbiter knows this, and as he circles around behind you you dare not take your eyes from the thing before you. That thing you had previously known and loved as your very person.
"Do not be frightened," the Arbiter says slowly, painfully. "The monster is within us all. On you I have worried little, because subject to the laws of man you are, in a sense, without flaw. You've not killed anyone, not stolen anything of great value. In the annals of punishment your name will never appear. Men far worse have crossed my path. Men who have done the things that you have not. But you," he says, trailing off and appraising your weapon. "You see this monster and you have chosen to fight it. And it is for this that you will be saved. Because our time here is limited, and one day we will leave the world of men. Yes, we will leave and enter a world where the law of the spirit reigns above all, subject to which we must all perish eternally. It is not enough to be a good person," he says to you. Your hand tremors slightly and your sweat dampens the hilt of the blade. "You come before the arbiter fully armed, but against this thing no stroke of sword will avail you."
"What chance have I?" You ask, the fear masked, your composure seemingly recovered.
The Arbiter stops.
"You know." He says, and fades away. "You've always known."
And the Arbiter is gone.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
100 Means Goodbye (April Fools Joke)
I've finally done it. 100 posts. It's a momentous occasion for me - a goal I've strived for, something so far off in the distance that it seemed I'd never make it. I've even considered throwing a party. But now I realize that if I did, it would have to be a wrap party.
You heard me right. I'm done. I can't do it anymore.
I've been lying to myself, lying to you. I've been trying to stand before you and say that I know something special, something secret. I was wrong. I'm nobody special, I'm nothing unique. All I've done is forced my viewpoints upon you, and made you feel guilt when you didn't respond.
A while ago I posted my fear that I would run out of things to write - now I know that I'll never run out of things to write. Good news, it would seem. But no, it's all the more reason why I have to stop. It's growing out of control. If I keep writing and writing, nothing will hold any meaning any more. Post upon post, thought upon thought, dream upon dream. One by one they will be lost in a myriad of other posts, losing any significance that they once held.
So I apologize. I apologize to all the people who believed in me, I apologize for all the people I've inspired. It just can't go on, and while you might not understand, you may see once you hit your first 100. It's just like that fabled first 100 dollars for a small business somewhere. You want to keep it pristine, untarnished. If all goes well I'll continue working on my commentary project, and I of course will continue to support those who have supported me, so don't think that I'm dead and gone. I have so much to apologize for. For the hypocricy. The arrogance. The unfair assumptions. But there's nothing I have to apologize for more than this.
You heard me right. I'm done. I can't do it anymore.
I've been lying to myself, lying to you. I've been trying to stand before you and say that I know something special, something secret. I was wrong. I'm nobody special, I'm nothing unique. All I've done is forced my viewpoints upon you, and made you feel guilt when you didn't respond.
A while ago I posted my fear that I would run out of things to write - now I know that I'll never run out of things to write. Good news, it would seem. But no, it's all the more reason why I have to stop. It's growing out of control. If I keep writing and writing, nothing will hold any meaning any more. Post upon post, thought upon thought, dream upon dream. One by one they will be lost in a myriad of other posts, losing any significance that they once held.
So I apologize. I apologize to all the people who believed in me, I apologize for all the people I've inspired. It just can't go on, and while you might not understand, you may see once you hit your first 100. It's just like that fabled first 100 dollars for a small business somewhere. You want to keep it pristine, untarnished. If all goes well I'll continue working on my commentary project, and I of course will continue to support those who have supported me, so don't think that I'm dead and gone. I have so much to apologize for. For the hypocricy. The arrogance. The unfair assumptions. But there's nothing I have to apologize for more than this.
APRIL FOOLS!
Oh, I feel like a terrible person. Oh well.
Keep reading, 200 here I come!
Oh, I feel like a terrible person. Oh well.
Keep reading, 200 here I come!
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