In Frank Sinatras Voice
The winter outside is stifled,
The pyre ablaze, our survival.
Since weve no place to go
Reap and sew reap and sew reap and so..
We dont show signs of stoppin
We still mow down rainforests for loggin
An impact we dont yet know
Reap and sew reap and sew reap and so..
When fossil fuels do run dry
How we will hate going out anymore
Cause without any ozone sky
The suns rays will be way too warm!
The planet is slowly dyin'
And as a species we're not trying
To possibly ebb the flow
Reap and sew reap and sew reap and so..
The planet is slowly dyin'
And our dear resources drying'
Now we can't say we didnr knoŵ
Reap and sew ×3
What do you mean I can't hold it? You use it all the time when you're building things in your workshop. You make those big pieces of wood half the size with a single cut! Is that not something worth sharing with me? Yes, I know that zig-zaggy tool is sharp and as tall as I am, but that sort of technology should be shared! Especially with me! How dare you keep the cool things away from me.
Wait, I spilled that container of silver toothpick-looking metal things on the floor? I don't remember doing that, how do you remember it? It was days ago. Quit dwelling on the past. Wait, the dog ate some, why would he do that? Even I can tell it's not food, that's on her if we're being honest. Don't yell at me for something that could have been prevented with better training... not not with me, the dog!
Okay, but why wouldn't I touch the thing that spins simply by pressing a button? That's a recipe for my interest father. It spins and if I push hard enough, I can make holes appear in anything. I don't understand how this spinning of metal makes these hols in the wall, but boy do I love it.
Alright, maybe I shouldn't have made a hole in the jug holding all that water.
Why blame it all on me? I'm doing nothing more than indulging in my own curiosity, how dare you interrupt the advancement of my mind! Not that I can actually say any of this to you, I can barely explain what I'm thinking when it involves more than ten syllables. But hear me! You never hear me! I am tactile old man, I have to touch it to understand. You don't understand me, none of you people do. The dog will indulge me in my endeavors, but you won't! And she's clearly not as smart as me! What does this say about you, evil warden?
If you ever say that again I will never forgive you! No, I won't understand when I'm older, I refuse to be anything like you adults! Acting like you understand the pain and turmoil you put me through on the daily. You think I need to eat those tiny green trees to be healthy? You never eat yours, so how dare you put such a thing in my lap. Why don't I eat more of those candies that Nana gave me? If you want me healthy, me being happy is the best route for that, and that sugary goodness is what brings me the most happiness, and you refuse to feed them to me at every meal! You've relegated them to being a reward for eating my final meal of the day...a cruel torment, but I'll hand it to you, it's effective. The more I think of it...most of your trickery is effective. You've confused me... I both admire your parenting, and shake my fist at it. I will raise my kids better than you, no trickery, all candy.
You said the same thing when you were my age? Damn you.
A whale of a tale
All the local hobo's and their tiny hobo juniors met just after dark near the tracks.
It was story night off the slab and tonight Pissbag and Bobby were tell a tale of the tide.
Everyone had recently come home from a trip to the ocean and all the wonderfully filthy children, liked best the way the water ebbed and chased.
Once everyone's cans of pork and beans had been open and Snotbox's mom gave everyone their shiney silver spoons- Pissbag appeared from behind a sheet hung from two Uncle Jeff's.
'Ladies and Gents tonight we hear one whale of a tale- how the tides got their game.'
Bobby shook a piece of plastic in the air real hard and it made a weird woobly noise everyone enjoyed.
"Now- we already learned about all biggest hobos on the grid- whales."
Bobby held up a poster with the symbol for 'whale crossing' on it. The kids laughed.
"Whales, like all other brothers and sisters fart- but one whale fart is like 700 people farts for 5 minutes. That is power. That is movement. That is pressure from the depths of the ocean that keep on rollin through the water."
Bobby wobbled the plastic again.
"At night, with the help of the gravity of the moon, all those whale farts eventually start to catch up with one another and cause a wake of sorts."
Bobby wobbled.
"At the fart bubbles pop and merge the displaced energy causes the water to churn back and forth on the shores."
Bobby wobbled once more.
"All that sand that has been played on all day needs to be washed you see. Those whales are not just doing as nature bids, their fart waves are helping the ocean clean the beaches."
Bobby held up another large sign this time with the symbols for 'clean living here'.
"In fifty years, by the year 2000 if we don't make sure the future protects all those whales, the beaches will become filled with trash. Wouldn’t that be such a terrible situation?"
Bobby wobbled once more, and all the children agreed.
The Moon and the Land
Tempest, sister of five, was a woman of dreams.
Every night, her eyes would gaze up at the moonlight, and though she was not tantalized by the moon's advances like her sisters were, she would wonder what it was like to live in a land of air, to be of the sky and free to go where no one else could dare.
The moon promised her that he could give her such things, and she wasn't sure. He had tried to goad her, to bring her to him with advances that promised warm breeze nights that he would light. He told her he could help her swim more upright, but she was not swayed.
Still, Tempest would rumble the water surface, pushing back at the windy messengers who came to visit each day. She tired of the moon's advances and so she ventured out from her depths where the shore came and her world became shallow. This was the place of man, a place Land had claimed and called its own, but Land had no soul, no spirit per say and spoke to no one. Still, she sat on his shores and lamented that she could be no freer from her home than a prisoner of the depths, but Land did not answer.
Liking the silence, she returned to him once more, washing over his beaches and asking if he minded. No answer. And so she started to swallow up little caves, filling them with pretty little things, returning Land his people, and sometimes when man was dumb enough, drowning them to tell Land to respect her realm. Still, Land did not respond. Despite his lack of response, she felt free, more free than she ever had, but Moon became jealous, tugging on the waters surface with his pull to bring her back. To ask her to come away with him since he could not have her. Her sisters became angry, bemoaning his advances on her as he gave them less attention and Tempest remained resolute. She would not feed into it.
And so, every night, Tempest rises up to the shores to see if Land will answer her, but feeling at home with being able to be herself, she continues to ignore Moon's requests for marriage. On some nights, his tug is stronger, keeping her busy and away, but on others... she returns and Land sprinkles gifts from beneath his shores of what little trinkets Tempest left behind.
Title: Waves
It was the bang that laid out this path.
Lovers more star crossed than
Any love past.
Sir Ur (our earth)
And lady moon
did swoon so!
This took place
In the hollow vacuum of space;
but it is that the gravity of the situation made it so
these two celestial Spheres
love affairs could never be.
So; Sir Ur
filled up with tears.
They swell when she is near.
Close, but
always too far to touch.
So it is so that
our Earth must
(try as it might),
Attempt to catch
the path of her flight.
Hoping against all reason
to bring them together
evermore.
It is as he weeps
That rain pours.
Waves will crash
on distant shores,
all while the
wind speaks the pained shrieks
of the fight.
This is why
every night
The lonely Lady moon comes.
Yet
(try as she might)
she too fails the plight
Never to reach
Her Sir Ur.
Like a siren to
Our world;
Her amorè.
It is
the thrashing tides
Who keep the score,
And their woes whisper in the wind.
The Hunter and the Silver Doe
"Mother, why does the water rise?"
Summer's Reach was cold. The old seaside home where Daloran spent his childhood days, unaware of his future cares, saw that day a morning of wind.
Daloran did not care; and nor did his mother Kana, who sat above him on a stone bench while he played in the white sands at the edge of the beach.
"What do you mean?" she said, after only a moment's consideration. She had been watching the horizon, uncaring as the wind blew her dark hair this way or that. Her son was making shapes in the sand, little mounds in a circle.
"I mean..." he said, looking up and studying the nearby cliffs with a troubled look. "When we got here the water wasn't so high. Why did it go up?"
"Oh," she said. "Well... do you see the moon at night?"
"Yes," he said, "and sometimes in the day."
"That's right," she nodded. "Well, what my father told me was that the water follows the moon."
"Follows?" he protested. "Then why isn't it up there?"
She breathed in the salt spray, not answering him. After a moment, he came over and took her hand.
"Mother, how does the water follow the moon?"
She smiled and patted the stone bench next to her.
"Well," she said as Daloran sat, "if you like, I'll tell you a story..."
Many years ago, it is said, a hunter went looking for a silver doe. For the land had been dry for a very long time, and it was said that if someone were to find and kill the doe, the skies would open up again and rain would fall, quenching the ground's thirst.
So, many years he searched, through every forest he could find. But to no avail. So he searched across all the plains, then into the mountains... but he couldn't find the silver doe.
But he would not give up. The land was desperate for rain.
At night he watched the skies, looking for an answer, a sign of where to look. "I have travelled long," he began to say each night, "and I search for what no man should be able to find. Yet I will hunt until my last breath. Would that my journey be met with the smallest of aid?"
As his eyes searched, suddenly a star in the north blinked once brighter than all the rest. He stood immediately, shouting his excitement and praise; and, ever one bound by duty, he continued on his way.
He followed the star in the north for many months; through many nights and sleeping very little. Through forests and over plains he journeyed again. And finally, after crossing perhaps the tallest mountain he had ever seen, he stopped when the star brought him to the sea.
There he stood for a long while, the whisper of the waves in his ears. He thought perhaps he was to build a boat and keep going, but something stayed him on the sand. So he waited until nightfall, that perhaps he could again look for direction.
When night came, however, and the great moon was over head, something shining appeared from the waves. She strode from the wake with both grace and majesty, a silver doe, bowing to the hunter as he approached.
"I come to you," she said, and her words sang through his chest, "you who have searched for so long, that now I may return to my home."
So the hunter drew the first arrow of his long hunt, and loosed it upon the silver doe. And as it struck, the doe burst into a cloud of moonlight, lingering there on the shore for only a moment. With a final whisper of farewell, she soared upward through the clouds and into the moon; and at the moment she broke through the sky, rain began to pour down, blessing the dying land; and as the rains came down, the water came up to meet it, crashing together in a joyous thunder.
The hunter fled before the torrent, but he was not fast enough. So great was the land's joy that it drowned its savior. And though at first he thought perhaps it was unfair, he remembered the rain falling on the dry ground and the doe's flight home... and he drifted off with a smile.
Now... each time the moon comes around in the sky, the waves remember... they hear the whisper of the doe's voice... and the sea rises up to be nearer to her...
"That's why the water goes up, Daloran."
The Tidewoggle
In the ancient times of Mirtholia, there dwelled a whimsical sea deity named Tidewoggle. With a twinkle in his eye and a chuckle that echoed across the ocean, Tidewoggle was known for his mischievous nature and love for laughter. He was the guardian of the tides, responsible for their rise and fall, and he took his role quite seriously, albeit with a playful twist.
You see, Tidewoggle had an insatiable fondness for jokes and jests. He would often play pranks on the sea creatures, causing waves to splash unexpectedly or sandcastles to vanish with a mischievous wink. The sea turtles would grumble, the seagulls squawked, and the crabs clicked their claws in mock annoyance.
One day, as Tidewoggle roamed the shores, he encountered a wise old seagull named Gulliver. Gulliver was renowned for his wisdom and always had a thoughtful perspective on the world.
"Ah, Tidewoggle, your laughter brings joy to the sea, but have you ever wondered why you control the tides?" Gulliver asked, gazing at the mischievous deity with a knowing glint in his eyes.
Tidewoggle, ever the jokester, replied with a grin, "Oh, Gulliver, my friend, it's all for the fun of it! I create the tides to see the sea creatures dance and the land-dwellers scramble."
Gulliver chuckled softly and said, "Indeed, your jests bring delight, but there is more to your gift than mere amusement. The tides, like life itself, have a deeper meaning."
Perplexed, Tidewoggle tilted his head, eager to hear Gulliver's wisdom.
"Look beyond the splash and foam," Gulliver advised, "The tides rise and fall with the dance of the moon and the sun. They symbolize the rhythm of life, the ebb, and flow of emotions, the cyclic nature of all things."
Tidewoggle listened attentively, and a glimmer of understanding flickered in his eyes.
"You control the tides, dear Tidewoggle, to remind all beings of the interconnectedness of laughter and tears, joy and sorrow," Gulliver continued. "In the highs and lows of the tides, we find the balance between mirth and contemplation, between playfulness and introspection."
A profound silence settled over the beach as Tidewoggle pondered Gulliver's words. The laughter that once echoed boisterously now had a hint of reflection.
From that day on, Tidewoggle's pranks and jokes took on a new depth. The sea creatures would laugh heartily when he playfully splashed them, but they would also pause and contemplate the meaning behind the tides' rise and fall.
And so, the tides of Mirtholia continued to dance to Tidewoggle's tune, a reminder of life's ever-changing cadence. The mischievous deity's laughter still resounded across the sea, but now, it held a profound meaning, touching the hearts of all who heard it.
For in the laughter of Tidewoggle, they found not just amusement but a profound lesson: that life's journey is a beautiful tapestry of highs and lows, of joy and reflection, and that through it all, laughter and meaning intertwine like the waves upon the shore.
The Gift Given To The Unworthy
Long ago, when the world was young, Mother Nature, and her family, the Keepers of Life still held dominion over all things. In their wisdom, they knew the world would need extra care, so they made People to be their stewards in the nurturing of creation. The Keepers all agreed that people should walk on two legs so they could see the world from different perspectives and so they navigate by the stars Father Sky set out each night to light the darkness. People were gifted with two hands to help them create the things they needed as well as to produce things of beauty. Mother Nature gave them eyes so they could behold the beauty that surrounded them. She also gifted them with ears to hear the songs birds sing and the many duets played by the wind and water. Finally, since People were going to have the great responsibility of caring for creation, the Keepers gifted them with the most complex and capable inner workings. No other heart on Earth was as strong. No other mind as capable of reason and imagination, No other lungs could create voice, language, and song as those given to people. The Keepers of Life were so pleased and so proud of these very complex beings they encased them in skin clearer than the most perfect crystal so that they could look upon them and admire the beautiful and intricate beings they made.
As capable as People were,
The Keepers of Life knew there was much their new stewards would need to learn if they were to be given care of all creation. So, every year when the leaves began to fall and the heat was cooled by the breath of Sister Wind, the wisest and most clever of People were gathered from their dwellings on Grandmother Earth to learn and ask questions of the Keepers. They were taken to a different place each year. Some years they were taught on the Savannah, other years they learned huddled in the snow on the highest mountain tops. Many were held within the forests of the Earth. No matter the place, these gatherings of People and Keepers came to be called the Great Times of Learning.
One year, People decided to ask he Keepers for just one more gift. The People admired and held in awe all the colors in nature that were created by the Keepers. They loved the deep blues, pinks, and purples of the sunset and the clear shimmering blues and greens of water. Many loved the creamy color of the ivory worn by some creatures and the shimmering pearly white of snow. Others marveled at the multitude of colors the birds showed off as they flew through the sky. Some loved the greens found in the plants that grew and the rich browns, tans, and greys, and metallic gleam found within the Earth. More were so memorized by the sparkles that shimmered in certain stones that they made them into things to adorn themselves with. Finally, some were in awe of the reds, yellows, oranges, and blues that danced and changed within the light of Grandfather Fire. Coming together, People wanted to ask their makers to replace their perfect crystal skin with colors like those given to all the other creations of the Keepers, but fearing they would be seen as ungrateful, no one was brave enough to put forward their desire.
The Keepers spent that Time of Learning on a vast plain surrounded by foothills teaching People how to till the Earth and plant seeds to make food grow. People were also shown how to take ore from the Earth to make form metal to make stronger tools. As the air began to grow chill and the last of the leaves fell to the Earth the Time of Learning came to a close. Preparing to say his farewell, Father Sky noticed that People were strangely quiet. For the first time he could remember, People seemed nervous and uncertain. Usually, they laughed and asked a multitude of questions about all manner of creation. Troubled, Father Sky asked his fellow Keepers if they had noticed the difference in People. Indeed, all had noticed the difference in their favorite creation and agreed to determine what the change was all about.
So, before being swept up in Sister Wind's arms for the journey back to their homes, The Keepers sat before the People. Mother nature, noticing the nervousness in the People, decided to soothe their worry and observed. "Our People are strangely quiet this Time of Learning. You do not sing or laugh and your questions are few, what has changed, my children?" she asked, careful to keep her voice gentle as the light percussion the rain makes as it lands on the water.
One of the People, an elderly woman was encouraged by Mother Nature kind words, so she stepped forward and gave a humble bow and choosing her words carefully answered, "Dear mother, we were too afraid to ask because you have already given us so much...but," the woman's voice faltered as she became aware that the eyes of all the Keepers looked upon her.
"But what?" asked Brother Water, his voice rumbling like a summer thunder storm.
Another of the People stepped quietly forward to stand beside the old woman. This was the young boy's first Time of Learning and he possessed the bravery only to be found in the young. With a low bow, he finished the old woman's reply, "We are forever grateful for all you have given us, Mother, but we want to be adorned in color like the rest of your creation. We love the blue you painted the sky, the green the plains wear, and the ever changing blues, reds, and yellows within Grandfather Fire. We are also in awe of the other you've covered your lesser creatures in. I beg your pardon and patience my Mother, but we too wish to have the gift of color." The boy finished unable to hid the quiver in his voice. As he stepped back, he was relieved to see that The Keepers didn't seem angered. Instead, they seemed thoughtful, and Sister Wind and Brother Water seemed to be trying to hide a smile.
Sister Wind, who always struggled to stay quiet broke the silence with her breezy laughter, "You poor little ones." She said with a waive of her hand. "We should have considered that being as crystal would be undesirable. Who would desire to be covered in skin clear and unsubstantial as air, when you're surrounded by a world filled with color."
Grandfather Fire seemed to scowl, which filled People with fear. He was the most unpredictable of The Keepers and his feelings could only be guessed, "And what colors would you want to be adorned in? Not that we promise this gift you seek." His inquired his voice shaking the Earth like the first stirrings of a volcano.
Finding hope in Grandfather Fire's question, the dam of want was opened within People and they started to shout out the colors they loved and desired, "We want to be blue!" some called. "Green and gold!" others exclaimed. "We want to shimmer with many colors like the scales on the fish in the sea!" others shouted.
With a raise of her hand, Grandmother Earth silenced People, "All are great colors" she said calmly to People, "But you are children of Earth." she explained. "Blues, greens, oranges, pinks, purples. These belong to the creatures of the sky, water, and trees. Their colors are the symbol of our promise to watch over them. They were first but lesser than you, so these colors you cannot have. Your request can be granted, but as creatures bound to me, your skin will take on the warm colors found within the Earth." Grandmother Earth finished her obsidian eyes looking to the five other Keepers for agreement.
The other Keepers nodded in agreement, for of them all, Grandmother Earth was the wisest. So, to honor People's request the Keepers stood as one and sang their song of creation. The melody filled the with the sound of glaciers breaking, rock falling down a mountain, rivers raging, and sand in the wind. The song echoed off the hills surrounding them reminding People just how small they really are. As the song ended, People looked down at themselves.
Their colors were just as Grandmother Earth promised. Some were adorned in the color of bronze, others covered in the tan of weather worn copper, some were the warm browns of fertile Earth, and still others were a white splashed in pinks and browns. People looked at each other and marveled in the colors of their brethren. All offered the Keepers their thanks and promised to wear their colors well.
"The brave boy that spoke to the Keepers suddenly laughed with joy. "Some of us have eyes of blue, green, brown, and gray!" he exclaimed. "And look! Some even have hair the color of flame." Sister Wind, Brother Water Father Sky, and even Grandfather Fire smiled with mischief. Before Grandmother Earth could voice her displeasure at going against her desire that the colors be of Earth, Grandfather Fire patted her on the hand saying, "Now mother," he said with a chuckle. "You said their skin must be the colors of the Earth. You said nothing of the eyes or hair." For all his size, Grandfather Fire was somehow able to avoid the swat to the head which was Grandmother Earth's response when someone was more crafty than her.
Looking around and seeing the amusement in the eyes of her children and grandchildren, Grandmother Earth realized she was outnumbered and she had no choice but to sigh and accept People would now have eyes the color of earth, plant, and sea and some would wear hair the color of flame.
Though satisfied with the gifts given to People, Father Sky knew that they were young and often erred in their ways. So, he stood up with a stern look on his face. "Now People. You have been given a gift. I have watched you on high and have witnessed acts of greed, anger, arrogance, hatred, foolishness and pride in you" his eyes met the eyes of all People to make sure they were listening before he continued, "Know this. No matter what color covers you, you all walk on the same Earth and live under the same sky. None are greater or lesser, none more capable than another. Do not let these gifts puff you up and divide you, for you are all made of the same stuff, the color that adorns you is no deeper than your mortal shell."
The People nodded and promised to heed Father Sky's words and so they did for many generations. Sadly the memory of People is as finite as their lives and future generations would eventually forget Father Sky's sage words of warning. So, based on the color adorning them, some People would claim to be more blessed, smarter, wiser, and purer than others. They would forget that they all live under the same sky and walk upon the same Earth. The truth that their differing colors were all born from the same Earth would be ignored or lost on them. Finally, Mother Earth would weep as People's blood would be spilled upon her and Sister Wind would wail as she had no choice but to bear the sounds of suffering and misery as People killed in the name of a gift that was only skin deep.
Djembe
Maybe we're Litmus Test
The Universe testing out
Limits of its own Biases...
Tonality is blind in death.
As much as Skin in Life,
is tonally Deaf...
07.30.2023
Myth: Skin Tones @Ola_8
* Djembe is a drum thought to originate in Mali, West Africa southeast of Algeria. Its name comes from the saying "Anke djé, anke bé" which translates to mean "everyone gather together in peace," ...signifying the drum's purpose. In the Bambara language, "djé" is the verb for "gather" and "bé" translates as "peace."
Jupiter’s Revenge
The old gods are said to predate our world if not the entire universe. While the meteorological operations of other worlds are unknown to us at this time, we know that Jupiter is the one tasked with reigning over our skies. He keeps the elements balanced above and around us every day.
Jupiter is a just god who values balance over all. The ice that covers the mountain during winter will nourish the creatures living in the valley come springtime. He is also a temperamental being.
Humanity has started to try to take over his role. Mere mortals are playing god. Artificial dams in rivers, climbers trodding all over the sacred mountains, garbage in the rivers, even irrigation systems to avoid Jupiter’s punishments. They were sick of living in a destructive cycle based on his moods, so they adapted. He could do the same. The difference is that the humans had lives to lose instead of mere egos to bruise. They were not playing the same game.
Jupiter sends the storm of a millennium to the region: tornadoes sucking up entire villages, hail the size of a child’s fist, and a blanket of frost over the land to choke the life out of every crop planted there. He screams in thunderclaps and throws rays of lightening at the people below. Beside him, his wife Juno sobs at the destruction she witnesses below. Her tears sweep entire homes and farms away.
A plane flies by Jupiter’s nose and leaves a cloud of fumes that swirl around him. A piece of scrap metal that had been jettisoned by a rocket falls from orbit and bounces off his head. Clearly the humans did not appreciate his contributions. They did not appreciate all he did to control the elements that would always rule over their society. They tried to take over his role. They tried to be him. They would get exactly what they wanted — to take his place.
Jupiter decides to leave. Us mere mortals are not quite privy to information about how other worlds function, or even their existence at all. We just know that he left for a new world, a new challenge, a new home. For months, there are no devastating storms and the people rejoice. They take the time to rebuild their homes and their lives. Then they realize that Jupiter had taken the rains with him, too.
That marks the beginning of the end. Crops wither into dust, fires burn entire forests into ashes. People eat what is left until no more would grow. Soon, the mountaintops lack their familiar glaze on top. People are parched. Animals are dying.
Juno waits dutifully for her husband to return. Eventually, she loses track of how long she had been in his absence. A gentle rain finally falls over the village. Juno weeps softly from the top of Mount Olympus.
It will be years before he returns. Legends of Great Floods and Droughts decimating humanity span throughout history. It has happened before and it will happen again. The great cycle restarts just like humanity’s countdown clock. It won’t be long before he is fed up with us all again. Our army is working hard to develop our own meteorological management devices for when that time comes. Next time, we’ll be ready for him.