A Denouement of the Now and the Near-Future

It's an odd time for me now. I'm making new friends, relearning a love
for humanity. I've been so closed off for so long. I've needed the time
away, the time to reflect and find myself. I'm convinced that had I
continued as I had been living in California 8+ years ago I would have
made a big, bright impact on many lives, but would now be dead. I would
have burnt out and died. In part due to the fact I was purposely trying
to slowly kill myself, in part that no sane or healthy person could
possibly carry on the lifestyle like I was without repercussions.

I'm nearing completion of the third novel. I suspect I'll be done some
time tomorrow. This leads me to think about the next one I'll write. Of
course, I have to concentrate on selling these things, as well. But
today I thought I might return, finally, to Joyride Thru Death Valley
-- a novel I started in 2001; last wrote for in 2004-5; and will be my
most personal novel and closest to an autobiography I may ever come to
writing. Joyride will be to me perhaps what Dandelion Wine is to
Bradbury or Fear & Loathing to Hunter S. Thompson. Those are pretty
big icons to compare myself to, I know. I don't mean to make that
comparison, but rather the import of their related novels.

I'll definitely be writing the third installment of the Xiao-tep tales this year. Perhaps this Summer.

But for now I have to finish the denouement for the current novel.

Wish me luck.

With much love and respect,

~ Charles

"Dear Cousin, I'm writing..."

I was originally going to post some photos of my jack-o-lanterns from Halloween, but this letter I wrote to my cousin seems to have preempted that post in importance. Jack-o-lanterns will be on their way next week, Friday the 14th of November 2008.

"Dear Cousin, I'm writing..."

I was wondering if I could talk to you openly, honestly about something. About myself.

Recently I was writing in my journal and I was thinking about all the writing I've done this year (2008 has been my most productive year of writing to date with four ezines completed, a nearly-600-page fantasy wuxia novel written, various notes, short stories, a brief script for a friend that may be turned into a short film, and much more) and as I was sitting on the couch in the living room writing in my journal, thinking about all this writing I've done this year and I found myself coming to the conclusion, oddly aloud and matter-of-factly, "I've found my path."

It was such an instant, honest moment I almost missed it. But slowly it sank in and I had a quiet moment in my life I cannot describe as anything but Zen. I finally realized I had become who I was meant to be, doing what I do best and living it with a purpose.

I have a lot of things in my life. I'm almost obnoxiously blessed. For instance, after being diagnosed with Hepatitis C at the age of 18 and told by doctors it was a killer disease (which it truly is... Hep C is projected to kill more people the world over by 2020 than HIV and AIDS combined) and then at the age of 30 I was told I had the one type of Hep C that can currently be treated. By the time I was 32 I was cured.

But if there's any one thing I have (besides an incredible wealth of friends and loved ones) it's my voice. Since 2002 I have realized not everyone has a voice and it never occurs to some they could speak out if they chose to do so. Perhaps they know something I don't. Perhaps they know they are fated as someone without a powerful voice. In 2002 I watched a woman turned away from public assistance because she was not yet "officially poor" despite being homeless. In 2005 I watched another woman collapse in an office, crack her head against a dias and people around her assuming she was having a seizure. When paramedics came we all learned she had passed out because she hadn't eaten in nearly 3 days. When asked why she hadn't eaten in 3 days, she replied simply, "I don't have any money for food."

I don't feel any strong obligation or duty to others that may not have as strong a voice as I. If I have any obligations it's to my sweetheart and my family and friends who have always supported me and all I owe them is to do my best in life. But moreso, I have a duty to myself to use my voice, to follow my path.

I've said elsewhere in other writings I cannot match the drama of life. I decided long ago not to try. Instead I decided to be a sponge (we are all sponge, so I discovered while attending art school, in that we extrapolate experiences to determine ourselves) and filter through my voice the stories of the lives I come across and bear witness to, to write with a passion and a fire and anger and hatred and outrage and a brutal honesty and most of all by the gods most of all to write with love - love for my subjects, for my characters, for Johannah, for myself, for my friends, for all those that love me, for those that hate me and ultimately for myself - and if in the end someone somewhere can step up and say "Yeah, that's kinda like me and my life" then I've done what I've set out to do. I've followed my path.

I'm writing for the hopes of wealth. I'm writing for the hopes of a peaceful home for Johannah and myself and our cats and other various future pets. I'm writing for those that died too young. I'm writing for those that walk at my side. I'm writing for the veterans that allowed me a chance at this voice. I'm writing for those that have quieted voices. I'm writing for myself. I'm writing about life as I see it around me, not just my own. I'm writing because these small voices, these muted stories that go on around me every day, are good stories when well told. I'm writing for my life. I'm writing because we are our stories, each of us. We gain our morals from heroes in stories. We look at our darker selves in the villains.

When I moved from Michigan to California at teh age of 7, I slept on a plastic chaise lounge for some time. When I moved from California to Maui in 2001, I slept on a much too small (my feet hung well over the edge) futon on the floor. When I moved from Maui back to Michigan in 2005, I slept on an air matress on my brother's floor. When I moved from my brother's house to a rental in Flint Township, I slept on another, larger futon on the floor.

I'm writing to overcome.

I'm writing because I see a lot of damage in the world and maybe that's how things are meant to be, but I'm writing because even if pain is the natural order of things I cannot be ashamed of healing wounds both old and new.

I'm writing because I am a writer and I have nothing else but to write.

As I sit writing this, mulling over many matters, I am confused almost to the point of frustration about which story I should tackle next. There's so many inside me. There's the novel about boxing. There's the absurdist cyberpunk novel about classicism and race and duty and revenge. There's old Silas walking home upon being released from prison after serving 17 years and has no other way to get home but to walk the 900 miles seperating himself and his beloved city, his beloved mother. There's the next fantasy wuxia novel that will complete the overall story arch of Xiao-tep the Ankh-fish of 100,000 Sorrows and Beauty and his martial artist cohorts.

How odd a thing it is that my largest complaint now is that I do not know what next to write. If that's all I can complain about, I suppose I haven't much to complain about.

"The Silent Cry"

"The Silent Cry"

© 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.

From 7 July, 2008

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One of my manuscripts was delivered to a publisher at 1:12 PM on Saturday. I got 5 pages done on "The Elephant Crusade" today. I'm very, very tired. I would like to do more writing tonight.

I'm not well tonight, though. I'm sicker than shit. Tired. Exhausted. Upset. Hot. Light-headed. Cramps. I'll forgo details of my bathroom experiences.

Struggling to write is an horrible affair. When you want to write, when you have to write, and you don't you let yourself alone down. That's ten thousand times worse than letting down a boss.

I'm very tired.

My cat is at my feet. She seems so happy, so content. Her belly's full, her eyes are closed; she's busily purring. Sometimes I wish I was a cat. I wonder if T.S. would like me as a cat or as a writer. He'd probably say I'm more useful as a cat.

She looked at me just now and yawned. I wonder if that would be T.S.'s reaction. Her eyes are closed again, her purring louder. How dare I think I'm a failure when I am so loved? How dare I?

The year is half over and so far it has been filled with intense, constant writing. I fear stating that even here, silently upon the page. I fear jinxing myself.

Writing is the silent cry. Only the scritch-scritch-scritch of the pen or the tap-tap-tap of a keyboard can be heard. It's only when I have your attention after wowing you with explosions, pulling forth your wonderment with premium, high-grade octane-fueled action and insanity that I'll lower the volume, invade your head, do the Vulcan mind-meld with your inner voice and say what I must softly. No one around you will hear a damned thing, but I will trumpet as loudly as a big brass band stompin' at the Savoy for you. And more than any other message I will likely say to you: Thank you. I once was alive and now am again because of you. I live forever because you chose to read me.

And so to write is to live. Even in writing comes my invasive hope to escape mortality. Writing is my Dancing Water. Failure to write is to die.

Tonight, sick and feeling incapable of writing, I die a little.

I Am My Pen: An Open Letter to Publishers from Charles Shaver

I had been planning on posting Act I of "The Elephant Crusade" -- the next tale in the on-going Children of Gods saga -- today, but my attention shifted to finishing the last bits of editing my novel Soar these last two weeks. As such, I simply didn't have the time to put forth on "The Elephant Crusade." Instead I'm posting today an essay, an open letter.

Act I of "The Elephant Crusade" will be posted next Friday, July 4th.


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"I Am My Pen: An Open Letter to Publishers from Charles Shaver"

(C) 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.

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Hunger woke me this morning. I got out of bed and went to the kitchen. The fridge was bare save some condiments and a last bit of milk. I stood in the kitchen, looking out the window at a tree dying in my back yard from some sort of rot eating at it from the inside out. I drank half a coffee cupful of milk for breakfast. It’s all the breakfast I could afford.

Standing there, my mind wandered over to the Burton armory. Fights would be held there soon. I hoped to scrape up the ten bucks to go, to get out for a while and witness some other poor bastards get pounded for a change, to see some other nobody get their chance, to spill blood on cheap canvas, to fulfill his dreams or work out some anger or prove something to himself or someone else. The last time I saw a fight there was snow on the ground and I was a little less poor.

Writers like fighters. Papa Hem and Mailer were great fight fans. For some people there’s a mystery in that. A mystique. Those baffled by writers with a love for the fight hold literature to something exalted, something higher and finer. It’s not. Writing is fighting. To write is to take on the world sans kid’s gloves, with only bare knuckles and words.

To write is to get pounded, to take your shots, to fulfill dreams, to test yourself and spill ink all over cheap pulp. Each rejection is a new blow to the writer. Rejections rarely matter, though. A writer expects to get hit. I’ve taken quite a few lumps. I’ve been writing for five years and have as yet to publish anything professionally. I’ve got five years’ worth of lumps. I’m not afraid to take more.

My corner has prepared me well. I have all the skills needed to dance in the center of the ring. I have an idea where to take the fight, but am willing to break and flow with the pace of the game. I can shuffle and dance. I can bark like Ali. I can write for the knockout. Most of all, I’m hungry. All I need is my chance in the ring. The only thing threatening to hold me back is my own lack of throwing leather. But that won’t be an issue. I have the skills. And I’m hungry.

I am my pen, my destiny to spill oceans of ink.

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AFTERWORD: "Drawing Down the Sun, Uplifting the Stars"

Here is this week's offering of a short story or essay. This essay is number 13 of 13 weekly essay or short story posts.


"Drawing Down the Sun, Uplifting the Stars"
by Charles Shaver. Copyright 2007 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved.


AFTERWORD: Wherein Charles discusses the major themes, purposes, influences and references within the fairy tale "The Children of Gods".



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Part 1


BILL MOYERS (BM): What happens when a society no longer embraces a powerful mythology?

JOSEPH CAMPBELL (JC): What we've got on our hands. If you want to find out what it means to have a society without any rituals, read the New York Times.

BM: And you'd find?

JC: The news of the day, including destructive and violent acts by young people who don't know how to behave in a civilized society.(1)


When first I heard these words they were revolution to me. In the infamous interviews conducted by Bill Moyers with the late Joeseph Campbell the condition of modern society and importance of unifying ethos became apparent. As Campbell spoke those words "What we've got on our hands" I knew them to be true for I was living proof.

I am an American and like many Americans I was taught I come from a place besides the United States. I am an American and like many Americans I was taught the United States is my homeland. I was taught that I and my ancestors are German, yet if I venture to Germany I find myself a foreigner. I was taught that I and my ancestors are Hawaiian, and thus Native American/American Indian/First Peoples, yet if I travel to Hawai'i I find I feel as an outsider. It took a great deal of time, observance and humbling quietude to feel at home on Maui where my ancestry dates back some 500 years. When finally I did feel at home, I was torn away from the island viciously by economy.

What I see in myself is what Joseph Campbell so simply and precisely described within these few lines quoted above. What I see in myself I see in my friends and family who grew up or old around me and with me. What I see in myself I see on the front page of the New York Times. What I see in myself is an odd mixture of backgrounds; a conglomeration of histories; a mutt gone astray in the neighborhood of his owning family and, while still near his home, unable to find his way back to his master.

What's more, as early as 1994 I began to see this in other parts of the world as global industrialization was expanding at a mad pace. On January 1 of that year, indigenous farmers took up arms in Chiapas, Mexico in a struggle against the industrialization of their land-owner heritage. They called themselves Zapatistas.

I see within continued global industrialization the threat it poses against regional cultures and people. This is not necessarily a negative criticism against industrialization, at least not for my purposes. It is an observation made about the difficult process of industrialization, difficult most of all for the people that live within the region that is being industrialized. Their lives and the rules of their society are being completely changed, sometimes over night. I can only imagine that such a process would leave a person feeling quite new and different from what they once were, an alien within one's homeland.

Yet regions currently going through industrialization are not the only ones to produce such feelings of alienation. For example, look what I wrote above about being Hawaiian: "I was taught that I and my ancestors are Hawaiian, and thus Native American/American Indian/First Peoples..." In many cases such as this we don't even know how to refer to ourselves. This is not unique to me. Having spent time at powwows and other indigenous gatherings it can be a difficult task for even the veterans of such events to speak articulately about who they are.

It was with these observances and this line of thought I set forth to writing tales of new gods, the children of old gods, to create a new mythos and perhaps reintroduce old ethos to a society fractured and broken in this area of understanding. Thus was born Xiao-tep, the fish-god both Egyptian and Chinese yet truly neither for he is not pedigree. He is uniquely American in this, or American-like, or post-industrialized-like.

Within this essay I will discuss the origins and purposes of Xiao-tep. I will break this essay into three major parts: a discussion of origins and analysis of themes within the fairy tale "The Children of Gods"; a listing of names and their root meanings, as well as other notes pertaining to original characters; and a point-by-point breakdown of the tale with underlying notes, references and trivia.


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Part 2

JC: People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life. I don't think that's what we're really seeking. I think that what we're seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive. That's what it's all finally about, and that's what these clues help us to find within ourselves.

BM: Myths are clues?

JC: Myths are clues to the spiritual potentialities of the human life.


In 2000 I began working under the flag of the ideas of shifting global economies, a shrinking global village and regional cultures being threatened. Since then I have been working on what J. Ho dubbed my 'pirate epic'. It's a collection of fantasy tales that indeed have pirates and is ultimately closing in on the epic scale, but it's so much more. I wanted to use the words of Joseph Campbell as my battlecry and pick up the banner of the now fallen Tolkein and carry his quest further, but where Tolkein was attempting to create new tales for the future generations of the United Kingdom to latch onto, I want to do the same for the whole world. Therein lies the purpose of the 'pirate epic'.

Anthropomorphic characters play a major part in the 'pirate epic' and at one time I thought about introducing a talking koi fish to act as advisor to the main character. I felt the koi had little use in the 'pirate epic' and didn't quite fit the make-up of the rest of the cast of characters. I loved the idea of the talking koi, however, and stored him in the back of my mind for future uses.

Once more I was speaking with my good friend J. Ho. He is an illustrator by trade and has a blog wherein he posts different pieces of his art on a regular basis. He once asked if I would suggest something for him to draw and thinking of my little koi I said "mystical fish". From that was born 'ankh-fish'. I loved the idea of a fish with an ankh embedded into his forehead and asked J. Ho if I could write up the background to the little guy. He agreed.

I mixed J. Ho's ideas with my own and wound up with five Acts, 134 pages and some 30,000+ words of the fairy tale "The Children of Gods". I made the fish once more a koi and kept the ankh on his forehead. Seeing this fish in my mind, I knew I had the makings of a modern mythology that could express the odd feelings of displacement and, at the risk of sounding cliche, disenfranchisement so prevalent in the United States and areas of the globe being industrialized. I was intentionally creating a mythology for today. I was also cutting my teeth for further work on the 'pirate epic'.

I named the fish Xiao-tep.

As much as I am a fan of Robert E. Howard, I didn't want Xiao-tep to be a typical nor stereotypical brute slaughtering the evils of the modern age blindly. I wanted him to feel every death, to take in every breath, to be as much a thinker as a warrior. I didn't want him necessarily enlightened, but struggling to achieve whatever he deemed was right and just in the universe. I wanted him to be lost, unwanted, depressed even. I wanted him to feel every last emotion every single one of us, his readers, experience on any given day through the course of our own lives so that in future times we can look back and say, "What did Xiao-tep do here?" and then read or re-read part or all of his tales and appreciate them.

I wanted readers to look at Xiao-tep and, though he may be a god and a koi that can speak and fly, feel the very human struggles he was having.

I also used mythology and religion from all over the world so that no matter where a reader may be from the chances are they could find a character or something within the tale they could associate with on a cultural level. I'll discuss the specific origins of characters and such in Parts 3 and 4.


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Part 3

Here I will discuss the original character's names, the meanings thereof and give other assorted facts about characters. I will discuss only the original characters and not the gods or goddesses of the mythologies I pull influence from.


Xiao-tep: 'Xiao-tep' is a contraction of 'xiao', Chinese for 'little' (amongst other meanings), and Imhotep, an ancient Egyptian priest of Ra and the architect for the first pyramid (Step Pyramid at Sakkara aka Pyramid of Djoser). This, of course, means that his name could be roughly translated as 'Little Imhotep'. Xiao-tep is a koi fish, a symbol most commonly associated with Japanese culture. His mother is Lei-zi, the Chinese Goddess of Thunder, and his father is Hapi, the personification of the Nile River. In this, Xiao-tep represents three cultures: Egyptian, Chinese and Japanese. I wanted his name to reflect something amiable ('little') and intelligent (hence the reference to Imhotep).

Wu Chan Chu: I once more have to give thanks to J. Ho for he helped me translate 'battle toad' into Chinese. 'Battle toad' is a reference to the late-80's early-90's video game heroes Battletoads, a semi-generic rival for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Wu Chan Chu roughly translates as 'warrior toad' and, as it is discussed within "The Children of Gods", is a misnomer since Wu Chan Chu is actually a frog. She is the daughter of Hapi, the god of the Nile River, and one of the many mortal frog attendants within his harem. She is largely Egyptian in origin, but her later name suggests a Chinese influence. Wu Chan Chu was originally named 'Kat Depet' by the slaver Kem Seqdew. 'Kat Depet' translates roughly from ancient Egyptian to English as "Ship Work" (please note within the original tale I wrote 'Kat Depet' translated as "Work Servant", I was wrong there and the story will be changed to reflect the correction in later versions). Wu Chan Chu is a demi-goddess, meaning that she is part mortal and part goddess.

Comet Fox: Comet Fox is the child of Coyote, the Trickster God of the Plains People of North America, and the Zorya, three sister Goddesses of Light from Slavic origin. Comet Fox is a god and is named thusly because he was born as a fox but can fly and when he does trails behind him a streak of white light like a comet's tail.

Ketsueki Sato: The Great Horned Demon of the Cottonwood Chamber. I wanted this demon to be truly vile and, taking a note from Been Eter (discussed below) I thought of calling the demon something along the lines of "Blood Drinker". I came up with 'Ketsueki Sato' instead. 'Ketsueki' comes from 'ketsueki-gata', roughly translating from Japanese as 'Blood Type'. It is often associated with a theory that one's personality may be predetermined by type of blood. 'Sato' has many translations, including as a Japanese surname or family name. It is also a Puerto Rican parlance for 'mutt'.

Kanaka Nui: The mortal fisherman that catches the large carp for Lei-zi to send in place of Xiao-tep for Hapi's meal. 'Kanaka Nui' roughly translates from Hawaiian as 'Big Person'.

Aileas: The Bean Nighe captured by the Dwarf brothers Brok and Sindri and bound to the Spear of Sorrows, the weapon that becomes Xiao-tep's trademark. She acts as a catalyst for Xiao-tep to receive the pains of the deaths of those he kills so that no death is simple nor without consequence to him. 'Aileas' is the Scottish form of 'Alice'. Bean Nighe are closely related to Bean Sidhe (most commonly written and pronounced 'Banshee').

Been Eter: Pronounced 'behn et-ur', he is the troll that becomes the first creature killed by Xiao-tep. 'Been Eter' roughly translates from old Dutch as 'Bone Eater'. I would be remiss to not include a mention of Tolkein's trolls from The Hobbit. Within that book I gained my first real exposure to trolls as characters and I'm sure my ideas of a troll are close to those depicted by Tolkein.

Awiti: The priest that prays to Hapi to discover the cause of the recent quakes. 'Awiti' is generalized as African in origin and means something to the effect of 'a child thrown away'. I used this to re-iterate the theme of this tale.

Kem Seqdew: A slaver that purchased Wu Chan Chu from her father with the intent of selling her. However, he could never bring himself to selling her and kept her instead under his watchful eye. 'Kem Seqdew' translates roughly from ancient Egyptian to English as 'Black Sailor'. That doesn't necessarily reflect his skin tone but his trade. Kem Seqdew's ship is called Mew Khet, which roughly translates from ancient Egyptian to "Water Thing".

Yannick: The Briton that Wu Chan Chu (as Kat Depet) spoke with aboard the ship Mew Khet. 'Yannick' is Breton and French for 'John'.

King Kleos: The Imp King and lap-dog of the demon Ketsueki Sato. Kleos is the ancient Greek concept of honor and renown, something that is hereditary and is meant to be a goal. For ancient warriors in Greece, it was an abstract concept that brought respect and was fought for. It is similar in may ways to the concepts of honor found within the samurai class of feudal Japan. Kleos was often a major theme for Homer, the epic poet of ancient Greece.

Hermit Snow: I borrowed the imagery of Hermit Snow from the classic kung-fu movie The Bride with White Hair, but also the general and stereotypical idea of what an old master hermit should look like. He is the essence of the element of snow and, as such, cannot be destroyed but instead turns back into snow from his human-looking form when Wu Chan Chu finally defeats him.

Master Liu: I named Master Liu for the venerable Gordon Liu, also known by many as Master Killer. He is most recently known for his portrayal as Johnny Mo, the leader of the Crazy 88, from the movie Kill Bill Vol. 1 and as Pai Mei, Uma Thurman's master, in Kill Bill Vol. 2.

Moon Maiden: The goddess that Master Liu convinces to make weapons for Comet Fox. I had originally wanted to make this the Inuit moon god Alignak to support the background of Comet Fox's weapons as being Inuit in origin, (he fights with dual ulus) but I liked the idea of a Moon Maiden better and the name seemed to fit. I simply created this goddess for my purposes.

King Spyridon: King Kleos' father, killed when bitten in half by a wolf. 'Spyridon' is Greek and Russian taken from the Latin 'spiritus' meaning 'spirit'. I wanted the imps not only to have Greek-like names (since imps are often credited to Greek mythology, though it is often assumed the concept of imps existed prior to the Greeks) but names reflecting their closeness to nature as well.

Demetrios: The imp soldier that finds the fishing village of mortals. 'Demetrios' is the original form of Demetrius which comes from the goddess Demeter, the 'Earth Mother'.

Georgios: The mortal fisherman met by Demetrios the imp. 'Georgios' is the Greek form of 'George' which translates as 'Earth Worker'.

Ipiretis: The Seneschal to King Kleos. His name translates roughly as, if I remember correctly (I cannot find my own source now... my apologies), 'one who sees' or 'overseer'. It may also be translated as 'aide'.

Sam and Tom: The two boys within the Epilogue of the fairy tale. Sam gets his name from Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain. Tom is named for Tom Spaulding, Doug's younger brother in Ray Bradbury's novel Dandelion Wine.

I should note that I gave no background for the villains in this tale. I think such things are often done in complete error as they are often not handled correctly. For instance, the three prequels to the original Star Wars movies above all else takes the character of Darth Vader, an otherwise icon of evil within our everyday language and society, and humanizes him. A background presented incorrectly takes the sting out of a villain's villainy. I refuse to do that with these tales. That does not mean that knowing the background to a villain will instantly make him or her likable. The creation of a villain can actually add to his villainy, but in many cases storytellers wind up doing the opposite by portraying their villains as victims and victims are almost always sympathetic characters. Sympathy and villainy can mix, but rarely do they not take away from one another. The only care an audience should ever have towards a villain is the care to see them stopped.

The villains in "The Children of Gods" are simple. They kept the heroes from doing the tasks they wanted or needed, most specifically the villains kept Xiao-tep, Wu Chan Chu and Comet Fox from escaping the Cottonwood Chamber.


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Part 4

Herein I will go page by page through the story and point out bits of trivia and relate notes concerning what went into creating the fairy tale "The Children of Gods".


ACT I - PART 1

First, a note about style. I move back and forth between a narrative voice that appears omnipotent ("Few know of the Celestial Garden...") and a more contemporary voice similar to that found in novels and short stories of our time. The omnipotent voice brings attention to the storyteller and is popular amongst those that tell tales at powwows or other live forums. It can be more engaging as it brings some focus onto the teller of the tale. It is similar, also, to the written tales of Homer whose epic poetry we know so well, at least by reputation. It is also a voice similar to that of the narration in All Men Are Brothers, a classic epic from China about 108 warriors battling tyranny. Besides Pearl Buck's translated version, All Men Are Brothers has also been translated under the title Outlaws of the Marsh. If you like wuxia (high fantasy martial arts) you'll definitely be wanting to read about the Mountain Bandits found within All Men Are Brothers or Outlaws of the Marsh. Also be aware that Gandhi wrote a book called All Men Are Brothers. Make sure to get the correct book.


ACT I - PART 3


The concept of the willow branch acting as a carrier of tears is relatively common in many regions of the world.


ACT II - PART 1

Of course, I used legends from Norse mythology and even some influence from R. E. Howard's tale "The Frost Giant's Daughter" to imagine the 'hoary hinterland' that Xiao-tep comes into at the top of Act II after having fled from his father in the Celestial Garden.

It was important for me to show what happens to Xiao-tep without his willow branch. Here in Act II, Part 1 i separated him from the branch. Eventually, Loki, disguised as Brok and feeding Xiao-tep lies, practically cripples Xiao-tep with sorrow. I needed to show the enormity of the sorrows Xiao-tep has the capacity to feel. As long as Xiao-tep has his branch, he still feels the sorrows but not to the extent of being unable to do more than double over and sob. I also used the moment to build up the villainy of Loki.


ACT II - PART 2


I needed to deal with some logistics of a fish handling a spear as a weapon, so I added Loki presenting the elixir from the Morrigan Hags that allowed Xiao-tep, once he drank it, to grow to any size up to his full size and morph his fins into arms. In my mind's eye, Xiao-tep's full natural height is about fifteen or so feet and I knew, too, he would one day travel to the mortal realm and would need to be able to grow smaller so as not to appear so monstrous to mortals.

My main purpose of introducing the troll Been Eter was to incorporate the element of fighting. These tales, above all else, were from the very beginning meant to be adventures filled with both emotional drama and combat. I looked at Act II as I was writing it and realized there was no real element of fighting to it, plus I needed to show Xiao-tep performing with his newly acquired Spear of Sorrows.


ACT II - PART 3


Coyote stars in some of my favorite tales. Long ago, I want to say 1987, I came across the book American Indian Myths and Legends. It's a great resource for anyone interested in such subject matter as the title would suggest. At the start of Act II, Part 3 I talk about Coyote being full of summer strawberries. It's a small reference to a tale within the aforementioned book. Coyote sees several beautiful women picking strawberries and he desires them, so he goes to the end of the long row of strawberries and buries himself completely except for the tip of his penis which sticks out, looking somewhat like a strawberry that's on the ground. The women come to the end of the row of strawberries and see this one lying on the ground. Try as they might they cannot pick it from the ground. They pull at it and pull at it until it excretes a small bit of milk-like substance. They move on and Coyote digs himself out of the ground. ;)


I named Comet Fox prior to researching his mother, so I had to find a goddess (or in this case three goddesses) that represented traveling light. The Zorya fit the bill.

There are many layers to Hell ruled by the Yama Kings, but I really liked the name Chamber of Dismemberment by Sawing. The other layers are: Chamber of Wind and Thunder, Chamber of Grinding, Chamber of Flames, Chamber of Ice, Chamber of Oil Cauldrons, Chamber of Dismemberment by Chariot, Chamber of Mountain of Knives, Chamber of Tongue Ripping, Chamber of Pounding, Chamber of Torso-severing, Chamber of Scales, Chamber of Eye-gouging, Chamber of Heart-digging, Chamber of Disembowelment, Chamber of Blood, Chamber of Maggots, and Chamber of Avici. (2)


ACT III - PART 1


I wanted my faun unlike those protrayed within recent movies(Mr. Tumnus in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe and the faun in Pan's Labyrinth) so I did some research on fauns and discovered Lupercus the epithet of Faunus, the god of wilderness and fertility. I wanted him friendly and wise.


ACT III - PART 2


The kappa is another favorite legend of mine. I first learned of it in Obake: Ghost Stories of Hawaii by Glen Grant. It's a book I purchased in the first month or two after moving to Maui. I then came across the legend again while reading the graphic novels Usagi Yojimbo by Stan Sakai. In one Usagi tale he battles the kappa demon.


ACT III - PART 3


I currently live in an area of Michigan that becomes practically infested with cottonwood puffs every spring. It can be quite pretty, but also signals allergy season for me. In a discussion I remember with J. Ho long ago, I told him it makes the area look like I'm caught up in a wuxia tale. It was only natural I add cottonwoods to this tale and eventually call Ketsueki's realm The Cottonwood Chamber.

It was important that I did not have Xiao-tep out-and-out tricked to go into the Cottonwood Chamber. Having him actively seek it out and the aide of Ketsueki shows his desperation and hate towards his father.

Imps are often associated, some would argue incorrectly, with Wiccans. Some claim them tiny demons acting as familiars for witches. The truth is that imps have a history separate (largely) from that religion. But I drew upon this misnomer and portrayed the imps as having the once-perceived familiar-like quality of suckling blood from the third nipple of another's body. I understand fully I was playing on false beliefs developed by ignorance, but the legend has come into mainstream consciousness and felt it fit my needs. I took great care not to associate Ketsueki, Kleos or anything having to do with them with Wicca. My respect and love goes out to Wiccans everywhere.


ACT IV - PART 1


I needed to incorporate more fighting into the tale, hence my choice to incorporate flashbacks showing Wu Chan Chu's and Comet Fox's training and attainment of weapons as well as their fights with Xiao-tep.

The nose flute is a common musical instrument within Polynesian culture.

The idea of Wu Chan Chu watching the hawk comes from a quote in the Hagakure and recited by Forest Whitaker on the soundtrack to the movie Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai. The quote goes: "According to what one of the elders say, 'Taking an enemy on the battlefield is like a hawk taking a bird. Even though it enters into the midst of a thousand of them it pays no attention to any bird other than the one it has first marked.'"


ACT IV - PART 2


I wanted the entirety of the Cottonwood Chamber to appear alive and organic, hence my incorporation of spriggans. I got inspiration for them in the Palladium Fantasy Role-Playing Game. With gratitude to Kevin Siembieda.


ACT IV - PART 3


There is a brief reference to the tales of All Men Are Brothers here. In those classic Chinese tales, the character Black Whirlwind must take up residence with a school of monks. Black Whirlwind is the polar opposite of what a monk should be: he eats meat, does no chores, loves luxury and wealth and violence. As such, he does not hold sacred that which the monks hold sacred. One night, after sneaking away to a nearby village to eat and carouse, Black Whirlwind returned drunk and needing to pee. He winds up peeing behind the statue of the Buddha in the temple. Of course, the monks are outraged and a small moment of hilarity ensues. Here Comet Fox, drunk and needing to pee, urinates upon one of the hand-carved stone dragons of Master Liu.

While not necessarily the comic relief of the story, I did want Comet Fox to have a sense of humor about him and wanted humor to enter into the situations he found himself in. For instance, Master Liu reminiscing about watermelons while Comet Fox rages about plums. One of the things I find endearing about the Coyote tales that inspired Comet Fox was Ciyote's sometimes simple nature. Coyote wants what he wants and he'll do as he needs to get what he wants. I wanted Comet Fox to be much the same.


ACT IV - PART 4


Strategy and forethought is quite important in combat as is in life. The observation of nature is also important, most especially in kung fu. I wanted to portray that with this flashback-within-a-flashback from Master Liu's younger times. Most martial arts are also based upon basic principles and I wanted Master Liu to express those principles in his own way and portray them as he had learned them in life.


ACT IV - PART 5

From almost the first I wanted Comet Fox to brandish ulus as his weapons of choice. The problem I found was inspiration for how they were made. These heroes are in many ways quite plain and simple, but I wanted them also to have certain uniquenesses to them. Their weapons is one area I chose to make extravagant. Xiao-tep's Spear of Sorrows was made by dwarfs and has within it a bound Bean Nighe; Wu Chan Chu's brass knuckles were made by a master craftsman especially for her; Comet Fox's ulus needed, I felt, a mystical origin and since ulus look so much like half-moons I thought it only appropriate they come from the moon.


ACT IV - PART 6


I love Drunken Style. It looks so comical yet can be quick and effective and even graceful.


ACT V - PART 1


When it came time to write the final Act of this tale, I realized I needed to add a background story to the imps since they were to have a part in the usurping of Ketsueki Sato. I didn't want them to be the calvary riding in to save the day and all that schtick. They needed a reason, a purpose, and a stake in the outcome. Sadly, I went forward with this background in the final Act. I say 'sadly' because I felt that by the final Act the stage should have been completely set so that we could concentrate on the final battle. This did not happen. When I edit this for future readings, the background story of the imps will go in Act 3 just before the imp (you later discover him to be King Kleos) visits Xiao-tep and tells him to escape the Cottonwood Chamber.

I drew heavily upon ancient Greek culture for inspiration for the imps. It would seem that, while imps may have existed within the minds of humanity prior to Greece's heyday, the ancient Greeks were the first to truly adopt them into their culture in some way.

The separate bog-kingdoms I loosely based upon the Greek idea of city-states, with King Kleos' bog-kingdom being somewhat like Sparta in that they are the most war-like and most successful at war.

The wolf is a common character within ancient Greek tales.


ACT V - PART 2


I wanted to incorporate some level of political power within the imp's part of the tale, which is lacking elsewhere.


ACT V - PART 6


I also wanted the power struggle to last a bit to add a parallel level of the rising tension of the fight in the courtyard. I didn't want the finale to be one-dimensional where everyone was just fighting and things become more bleak by the minute as the enemy increases his troops and pressure. I wanted to express that rising tension through a feeling of emergency and emotion. Herein we find King Kleos not wanting to see his people slaughtered, yet wanting to fight for their freedom. I pulled inspiration for this from Homer's The Iliad
. In The Iliad the hero Achilles must make the decision to join an on-going war. He does not desire to do so, thus Homer creates an emotional trial for Achilles as his friends and countrymen die while he sits at home safely. I am not the world's biggest fan of The Iliad because it takes so very long for Achilles to join the war and, quite frankly, the ending is not without flaws. But had Homer made Achilles join the war far earlier within the tale, I might like The Iliad a bit more. Nevertheless, I borrowed the idea of having a perplexed character deciding to go to war from The Iliad.


ACT V - PART 7


King Kleos tells Ipiretus and his people to hack at the heels of the toad demons to sever the tendons within. For those of you who don't know, that tendon is often called the Achilles Tendon and if it is not in tact, a person will fall, incapable of walking or standing on that foot. Why is it called the Achilles Tendon? Once more I reference you the The Iliad
.


ACT V - PART 8


I wanted Ketsueki to be practically impenetrable. I also wanted the heroes to work together to defeat him so that no single character could say they did more than the rest. Lastly, Xiao-tep, being our main hero, needed to be the one that delivered the final blow. As a result, Comet Fox severed the horn of Ketsueki that would be used as the death-weapon, King Kleos gave the horn to Xiao-tep with the information that Ketsueki was weakest in the pit, Wu Chan Chu broke the knee of the demon which made him raise his arm and finally Xiao-tep drove the horn into the demon's pit. None could have succeeded without the other.



CONCLUSION

When all is said and done, I am simply writing a fairy tale (often associated with children's entertainment) about a flying, speaking fish. A certain amount of levity and light-heartedness must be taken when approaching the subject matter. I do approach it in this way, no matter how much heaviness of thought or philosophical background I may put into these stories.

But the backdrop of culture and ideas of post-industrialization are there. If you can latch onto them, by all means please do. If all you get out of reading this tale is a kick-in-the-pants kind of fun, that's great as well.

Thanks to everyone who has read and supported this work.

One last note: the title of this afterword is "Drawing Down the Sun, Uplifting the Stars". It is inspired from two sources. One is the Wiccan ritual of 'drawing down the moon' wherein a coven requests divine guidance. The other comes from, once again, All Men Are Brothers wherein the 108 heroes are released as spirits into the world and they fly through the sky like shooting stars. Hence, the title of this afterword could mean a calling upon divine guidance coupled with the releasing of heroes. The title could also mean banishing the light so that heroes can be raised in the hours of darkness.

With much love and respect,

~ charles



Here is a quick picture I did in MS Paint of Xiao-tep.

As I Went Walking That Ribbon of Highway...

Originally published on my website in November of 2004, this essay is number 6 of 13 weekly essay or short story posts. Enjoy.


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As I Went Walking That Ribbon of Highway...

-or-

Everything I Ever Needed I Learned by First Turning Off the Television...

by Charles Shaver

from November, 2004

© copyright 2004-2005 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author(s) and artist(s).



This is simply a list of observations I've made as of late, with a few confessions thrown in.







I've learned fear will win you more votes than truth.



All forms of dental work is now viewed as a "luxury", despite the fact that my health is at considerable risk without receiving proper dental care. Funny, I guess my health and well-being is a luxury.



Bob Marley was not much smarter than the average man, though he was more observant and truthful.



Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Duke Ellington were the greatest composers and songwriters in American history because, while they wrote and performed largely for and from an American perspective, they were and are universal.



Tim Burton single-handedly inspired the launch of the Goth Topic... erm, I mean Hot Topic chain of stores where buying is apparently rebelling.



Lars Ulrich is a whiney little bitch.



KRS-One is a better speaker than he is a rapper, and he's a better rapper than most speakers are speakers.



John Ashcroft has resigned. Too bad the damage is already done.



Having been born in Flint, Michigan I grew up knowing Michael Moore was an idiot. While he may stand on the side of righteousness, or says so, he is often the centerpiece for his own works and therefore makes every piece of work about himself and less about the actual subject at hand. Also, anyone can present facts and say "2+2 =... well, audience? You can make up your own mind here." It's a standard tactic in propaganda. Just ask Hitler's S.S. While I, too, did not support the war in Iraq and often find myself, for lack of a better term, "on the same side of the fence" as Moore, I at least have some tact and rational judgment. His little speech at the Oscars only served to aggravate me. I understand that saying "Shame, shame!" to the president of the United States is meant to show that he needs to be treated like a child. But it speaks just as much in volumes about the speaker, Moore himself, and is rather childish, schoolyard name-calling bullshit. He does NOT represent my voice, and he represents by and large only his own.



I prefer Brian Eno over Digweed.



Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, even in death, is still getting ripped off.



Tupac Shakur, even in death, is making more money than my ass.



Jesus seemed like a cool guy who would have a tough time living in America today. He would most likely be stabbed, beaten and raped to death for being a dropout-hippie-freak... and most likely in his own name.



I am not a Christian, nor will I ever be.



I know that some who may take offense to any of the 'more serious' comments I've made here will use the above admission to slander and discredit me.



Despite my hopes for the best for the people of this nation, I will never be called a Patriot.



I once read about a study where historians claimed that should the United States ever fall, it would most likely be at the hands of the Native Americans because they have the greatest justification.



I know I will most likely be investigated, or further investigated, for this post.



I have very few friends, but they have each proven to be more than I've ever needed.



I know that I am occasionally filled with hate. Some of it is childish bullshit. I'm working on that. Some of it is 100%, undeniably justifiable.



Hawaiian Homelands is a prettied-up way of saying "reservation". Especially since every parcel of land is Hawaiian Homelands.



I recently heard about a senator who traveled to Puerto Rico and told the people there that they should really consider joining the United States as the 51st state and gave as an example how the Hawaiian people supposedly "begged to be a part of the U.S." The Puerto Ricans weren't stupid. They knew the truth behind the occupation of Hawai'i (unlike this stupid, idiotic senator) and most likely told him to find out about The Rest of the Story: http://www.hawaii-nation.org/paulharvey.html



Ignorance is the lack of knowledge. Stupidity is having the knowledge available and just not taking advantage of it (see above example).



Stupid is as stupid does is stupid. Tom Hanks has gone from funny guy with potential to boring, over-hyped hack.



L. Ron Hubbard was once quoted as saying, "If you want to make money, start a religion."



Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath was so titled (having taken the title from a lyric in the song "Battle Hymn of the Republic" that says "where the grapes of wrath are stored") in order to escape any possible persecution as being anti-Patriotic or communist. Today he would have to do the same to avoid being called anti-Patriotic or a terrorist.



I breed mice as a hobby.



I study war-gaming theory as a hobby.



I know that people are content to just being left alone, not getting involved, and staying out of just enough debt so as not to get into any trouble with anyone.



Bruce Lee was great. His films were action-packed, often suspenseful, and always intelligent. But what made the man great was not what he did, but what he could do. Not what he captured on film, but what he said on paper, from the heart.



I have met more people than I will ever remember.



N.W.A is alive and well and living in my CD player.



Love is not so complicated as The Bard would have us believe. It is not some mystical thing that has caused the ruination and so much pain for so many of us, most especially for our young women, in Western Civilization. It is as easy as looking into a loved one's eyes and having the willingness to do whatever it takes to make a happy life for the both of you. It really is just that simple. If anything else gets in the way of that, then you're not in love. You're in bullshit Drama.



Life is a temporary existence between non-existences.



Death is the great leveler, the great equalizer. Death is what makes life precious. As we trip through that fourth dimension of ours, we eventually come to our end. It is death, and our temporary stay here in a state of life, that makes us precious. Death isn't so fearsome after all.



Waking up to find my baby kitten curled up next to me in bed, seeking warmth and comfort, shows me that life truly is beautiful.



Waking up to find my sweetheart, the love of my life, curled up next to me in bed, seeking warmth and comfort, shows me that life truly is beautiful.



To learn anything, jump in head first.



Mick Foley is a great Storyteller, but not much of a Writer. He needs to stop trying to be The Writer and just tell good stories.



Television is good for nothing, except wrestling and the occasional football, futbol, and baseball game.



I am no more precious or worthless than anyone else. I am no smarter or ignorant than anyone else. I am just tripping through life like the rest of the world without a fuckin clue as to what's going on or where I'm going..



While Confucius was a smart man who worked towards many righteous ends, and I can respect that, I still prefer Taoism over Confucianism. perhaps it is due to my cynicism for humanity.



Cartoons and comics continue to be the single most real, honest form of mass media.



With the release of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy fans, friends, and scholars of Tolkien could finally cry out in victory that this man, this author, finally got the attention he deserved. Some cried that he was the most under-appreciated literary figure of the 20th century. While I will not argue his place in literary history, it is truly deserved, I will argue that he is not the most under appreciated. The single most under appreciated literary figure of the 20th and now the 21st century is Stan Lee. While he is finally, FINALLY getting some of the proper representation in pop culture through a larger audience and film-makers who love comic books, he is still seen as not much more than that guy that makes the funnies. Yet more people across this nation can associate with Spider-Man or The Fantastic Four or The Hulk or, for myself, Iron Man than we could with Perseus or Bilbo or Frodo or Achilles or Beowulf or most other literary figures. I love Tolkien, but he is far from the most under appreciated... especially now.



What idiot at Cartoon Network decided it was a good idea to air Ray Bradbury's classic Halloween Tree on the Friday before Halloween at noon when no kids are around to watch it? Wouldn't it have made more sense to air it at noon on Halloween Sunday? This movie should be seen by all kids and kids-at-heart who love Halloween.



"Gay marriage disparages the sanctity of holy unity and religion!" says the Christian. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few little boys to molest."



Paper Mario 2: The Thousand Year Door is hands down the best RPG I've played this year. And that includes Gayble... erm, I mean Fable.



While a somewhat solid title (I experienced some clipping) Fable did NOT bring anything new to the RPG table that Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Dungeon Siege and KOTOR hadn't already done... in some cases years before Fable ever came into being. I had already waited two years for this game. I would have waited an extra year or two to get the game I was promised. Fable is only what FF: Mystic Quest SHOULD have been. IMHO, PM owes me money.



I will hail the Shaw Brothers as much as I will hail Akira Kurosawa.



Marcel Duchamp and Clement Greenburg were both intelligent men. Unfortunately, Greenburg opened the floodgates of mediocrity and Duchamp fucked up the art world for all of us.



Read Concerning the Spiritual in Art by Wassily Kandinsky.



Jack Kerouac and Andy Warhol are dead.



Wearing black sweaters and drinking coffee does not a good artist make.



Pharaohs believed that they were placed into power by gods.



In Plato's classic The Republic, his vision for utopia (ideal, peaceful society), artists not working directly for the Republic were outlaws. He feared the power that artists had to give The People a voice or to use that power to undermine the Republic. An ancient philosopher recognized the power of art. Too bad too few artists today recognize it.



We are each filters of the world around us. But what the hell makes you think you're so goddammned important that I have to spend my own precious time, money and put forth an effort to see your artwork if all you're going to do is talk about yourself? If that's all you do, it is called mental masturbation. You are only concerned for your own pleasure and seek the approval of others. You are nothing to me unless you prove otherwise. you MUST bring it home to me. Until you do so, I do not approve of you and you are NOT an artist.



Wanda Sykes reminds me of a slightly taller, female version of Gary Coleman.



Usagi Yojimbo is my favorite comic book.



We are now living in the age of information, yet no one is saying anything. Including me?



Conflict is harmony, for in conflict things are being discussed, fought over and, perhaps, resolved. Complacency is chaos, for in complacency no one is thinking, no one is doing, no one is living. This does not mean that peaceful living is complacency, no more than conflict is intellectual striving. Peaceful living and educational benefits can exist with or without the two.



The irony is not lost on me that I am taking a muscle relaxer called Clarisoprodol... a generic form of a drug called Soma.



Read Gilgamesh.



Kids today will actually spend upwards of $20 to buy a chain specifically designed for them to "look cool". What ever happened to buying a real dog chain at the 99-cent store or, better yet, getting one in a junkyard for less or even for free from the junkyard dog to wear for the purpose of self-protection?



Whatever happened to The Crass and The Clash? We could use them now more than ever.



Bruce Springsteen is more rebellious than Green Day.



The Rolling Stones remain the greatest rock band in the history of rock, even over The Beatles who couldn't... stay together...



Bo Diddly is alive and well and playing in every juke joint that knows better.



Brook Benton, Screamin' Jay Hawkins and Leadbelly mean as much to me as Fats Domino and Bo Diddly.



Basho was the greatest rapper of all time. ("Too long!" *chop*)



An ocean's water has healing properties for the human body... given that the water is actually clean.



I have known more than one person who have had good, steady jobs where they make $18 an hour, eat nothing but ramen and sandwiches, and yet they still have to have more than one roommate to split the rent and share expenses.



I should have a house of my own by the time I'm 24 and... oops. I'll be 28 this year. Damn, I suck.



Did everyone just up and forget about AIDS?



"At the end of 2003 an estimated 34-46 million people were living with HIV/AIDS – 31-43 million adults and between 2.1-2.9 million children below the age of 15 years. More than 65 percent of people living with HIV/AIDS (25-28.2 million) live in Sub-Saharan Africa; another 16 percent (4.6-8.2 million) live in South and Southeast Asia." [where the sex-slave trade goes unnoticed and unchecked] Source: http://www.aegis.com/ni/topics/referenc.asp#stats Also check: http://www.aids.org/



And here's some info close to my heart, no pun intended: http://www.aids.org/factSheets/507-Hepatitis-C.html "Hepatitis C is a liver disease caused by a virus. The hepatitis C virus (HCV) is transmitted through infected blood. Hep C spreads easily when drug users share equipment. Over 80% of injection drug users have hepatitis C. Hep C can also spread through sexual activity. Hep C spreads more easily than HIV through contact with infected blood. In the US, about 4 times as many people have Hep C as have HIV. You could be infected with HCV and not know it. About 15% to 30% of people clear the Hep C virus from their bodies without treatment. The other 70% to 85% develop chronic infection, and the virus stays in their body unless it is successfully treated. Hep C might not cause any problems for about 10 years or even much longer, but it can cause serious liver damage leading to liver failure and death. Almost all cases of hepatitis C could be cured if treatment with interferon starts very soon after infection. Unfortunately, early signs of hepatitis can seem like the flu. Most cases are not diagnosed until years after infection." <~~ [from the above link] And before I have to be subjected to any of your fuckin snide-assed remarks, I contracted Hep C when I was 8-years-old during open-heart surgery and received some infected blood via transfusion. That was 20 years ago this last August.



High school has nothing to do with education.



College has nothing to do with education, but if you work at it, you just might get one.



If I sit at the computer for more than an hour, the brilliance of Asimov occurs to me.



I'm alive and doing my best to learn and teach. It's the cycle of life.



We are all human. Equality is built in to nature, but, unfortunately, not government or society.



Just before the U.S. went into Iraq, people all over the world organized and protested. It was the single largest (in number of people and expanse of geographic places) peaceful public demonstration to ever be held in the history of the world. In response, Bush said that he cannot base his decision upon a small minority who do not want the war.



I hope Leonard Peltier by now has learned to be more free than I have.



I will miss Wesley Willis.



People will hate me for the above statement.



I remember when Halloween came in October, Thanksgiving in November and Christmas in December. Now it's more like Halloween starts in September, ends the second week of October and Christmas starts soon after.



Each artist has to be the shaman.



If asked the proverbial question: "If you could meet one person in history, dead or alive, who would it be?" I would mostly likely answer Joseph Campbell. But I'm unsure how much I would actually speak with him. I would most likely just sit and listen.



I've noticed a lot of artists treat the director's cut of Blade Runner like an art-house flick, yet not many understand it. They just like the pretty and degenerate scenery and enjoy watching Rutger Hauer crying.



Euro-centrism is a disease.



When it comes right down to it, if a cop is unsure of your motives and has been filled with fear and lies and paranoia -- admittedly occassolly for good reason -- he/she won't give a damn about your Constitutional rights and will care more about getting home in one piece.



The U.S. Constitution. Though it seems most people don't do much more than wipe their ass with it today (most especially politicians who make it their job to wipe their ass without looking like their wiping their ass), the one thing most people don't do is read it. While it doesn't apply to a society filled with hate, racism, and sexism (since it states that "all men are created equal"), it actually has some pretty good stuff in it and is a very well written, intelligent document.



I can't change the world, but I can plant seeds in my own garden.



With Alberto Gonzales in, and Condoleezza Rice stepping up for Colin Powell, who will take her place? Probably some other wonderbread minority.



Girls: As much as I love Popeye, Olive Oyl is not sexy. Quit trying to look like her! Eat a burger, for crying out loud. They're not even expensive! Most places now have $1 value menus! Hell, if you go to some place like White Castle, you can get TONS of burgers for a few bucks!



"Whatevahs" is a philosophy.





None of this is profound.





I am a Very Small Animal.





This essay entitled "As I Went Walking That Ribbon of Highway" is © copyright 2004-2005 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author(s) and artist(s). Contact me at LordShen@juno.com.

Phlebotomist

Starting today I will every so often post here on my blog new essays, old essays, short stories and flash fiction for a brief period of time. I'll be posting every week, most likely on Fridays and if not then on Saturdays. Keep checking back for stuff. Here's an old essay from my site to kick things off.


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"Phlebotomist"
© 2005 - 2006 Charles Shaver. All Rights Reserved.
Written December 30, 2005
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Phlebotomist. It sounds dirty. Like someone that jacks off too much.

Phlebotomist.

"What do you do for a living?"

"Me? Oh, I'm a phlebotomist!"

"They actually pay you for that?"

I went to a phlebotomist today. That sounds dirty. She was cute in an ugly sorta way, like a pug pup. Ugly, sad, cute, pathetic. I always look away when they stick me. I didn't turn from the needle today. I turned away from her approaching mustache. Ugly. Hairy. Sad. Cute. Like a cat whose tail has been run over by a car or rocked back on by a rocking chair leaving just a stubby nubbin. Ugly. Sad. Funny. Cute.

Heartbreaking.

Even playful.

As she pulled whatever vital life juice outta me, drained me of my marrow, harvested dark crimson gold, I pushed my thoughts back to what I'd been mulling over in my mind as I awaited my phlebotomist. Was she phlebotomizing me at this moment? Whatever. Anyways, I had been sitting in the plain waiting room thinking to myself about all the writing I've done lately. I like this new stuff I'm doing. It's fun, playful, sad, ugly, hairy, cute, pathetic. It's a pug on the page.

That's when I decided I'm finally a writer. What's the difference between me now and me yesterday? Well, when I stopped thinking of ideas and started writing, I became a writer.

And I'll be damned if phlebotomist doesn't sound dirty.