Friday, May 31, 2013

ODE TO ACTION MOVIES: Hard Target

When looking for thrills and something to kill,
Why not try the homeless with military skills
No one will miss them when they turn up deceased,
But when Jean Claude hears this, he is definitely not pleased
Will violence, explosions, more violence and blood,
You will learn a lesson that everyone should
If you’re running an operation where Van Damme is the prey,
Then surely without fail, you will rue the day

Monday, May 27, 2013

SHORT STORY: A Mid Mall Meating

Adam placed his tray down in from of him and took a seat, hungrily eying the cheeseburger.  Adam picked up the quarter pound meal and sunk his teeth in; blood dribbling down onto the plate.  Winston, a fellow shopper in the mall, witnessed Adam feasting in the food court and made his way over to the table.

"You know meat is murder?" Winston announced with his nose protruding up into the air.

"You know murder is delicious?" Adam shot back as he sunk his teeth in for a second bite.

"I do not see how humans can eat other animals, it is just not natural," Winston shook his head.

"Is it natural for a lion to eat an antelope?  Nature is natural, and we are just at the top of the food chain, get use to it," Adam added.

"It is not natural to harvest beings for the sole purpose of human digestion.  They are caged, and tortured.  Antelope do not get that treatment, they live freely," Winston raised his voice, causing other mall patrons to turn their attention.

"Would you prefer I went out and hunted my own meal?  Same outcome, cows are not very good runners," Adam joked with the intention of irritation.

"You do not take this seriously?  You carnies are all the same.  It is not the same as a lion eating an antelope as it is a man hunting a deer.  The use of weapons skews the balance," Winston said.

"I disagree," Adam commented, "getting more serious with the discussion.  "Lions use their superior speed, agility and claws, and therefore can easily hunt.  This is why they are at the top of the food chain.  That is the evolution of the lion.  Humans however focused their skills on intelligence and tools over physical prowess, and thus we created these tools to aid us in our survival.  That is the evolution of man."

"Man is corrupt, they enjoy the kill more than the meal," Winston jabbed.

"I think you are a fool if for one second you believe that if given the chance a cow would not strike you down and devour you for survival," Adam noted.

Meanwhile Jake, a man at a nearby table, stood and approached the two arguing.  "Excuse me, but I could not help but overhear your conversation and I thought I could add some insight," Jake joined in.

"I am just trying to eat here," Adam stated with his mouth full, trying to back out of the talk.

"If you are an advocate of murder, then save your breath," Winston shot Jake a glare.

"I am against all forms of murder; be it human, be it animals, or be it plant.  In my opinion, you are both atrocious.  What gives either one of you the right to kill one being for your own gain?" Jake asked.

"I like meat," Adam was barely able to mutter from around the hamburger in his mouth.

Shocked at the accusations, Winston got defensive, "I am most definitely not murdering.  Eating plants is not the same as eating animals."

"Who are you to make up that decision?" Jake asked.  "Both are living, and ending either one of their lives prematurely would be murder in my book.  If you are what you eat, then I consider you an animal, and you a fruit.  You both ought to be ashamed."

"If you are so high and mighty, what do you eat?" Winston asked of Jake.

"I get my nutrients and sustenance from non-living sources such as chewing dirt and licking rocks.  Think of the way the insects do it." Jake explained.

"You are retarded," Adam exclaimed without even raising his head from his meal.  "I just want to eat in piece."

Winston, still feeling the pressure of being on the opposite side of the blame than usual, tried to rationalize his actions.  "Plants do not think.  Animals think.  It is not the same."

"Believe what you want," Jake commented nonchalantly, "I am not the one committing vegecide every time I want a nosh."

While Jake and Winston were discussing, Adam finished his food and stood up slowly.  "Well, it was lovely chatting with you two nut jobs, but I must be on my way."

Winston looked at Jake, and out of frustration stormed off in the opposite direction.  Jake stood there for a moment with a smug smirk on his face before heading off himself.  Meanwhile, Jasper sat with his brother at a nearby table and had witnessed the whole scenario.

"You know brother," Jasper started, "it is amazing that people can get so worked up over simple things such as diet.  Three different people, with three different views, trying to convert the others, yet they all leave with their original mindsets.  Each of their efforts are futile.  So judgmental, they have a few things they could learn about life.  So touchy over right and wrong when it comes to eating.  All this talk about food is getting my own appetite up, why don't we go eat that Boy Scout we have chained up in our basement?"

Friday, May 24, 2013

ODE TO ACTION MOVIES: Predator

A man who has power in every touch,
He may fight for the U.S., but he is Dutch
Led into the meat grinder by former friend Dillon,
When an unknown creature starts the killin’
Arnold watches as everyone dies,
One by one, they drop like flies
But he has some trouble while fighting this louse,
Because he’s not the only thing as big as a house
Unable to best him my strength,
He goes through every great length
He plans an attack,
With multiple traps
Using himself as the lure,
To catch the Predator
A movie unlike any other,
Starring Schwarzenegger and one ugly mother

Monday, May 20, 2013

SHORT STORY: A Well Written Tale

Here I sit, isolated and desolate.  I have given up on the world, and have no one to blame but myself.  I know why I am here, because I never pay attention.  My whole life my parents and teachers always told me to focus on the task at hand, but keep an open mind to what is around you.  The story of my life, I could only image what glories have passed unknowingly before me.  If I would have only paid more attention, if I would have only listened for once in my life.  Perhaps I was fated to be here?

I do not know how long I have the ill fortune to sit in the dark, surrounded by my own pain and misery.  An hourglass of torment, with each grain of sand that passes stealing another morsel of my sanity.  Perhaps this will be my final resting place, and I am destined to rot here?  If that is the case, those who have a thirst for adventure are certain to find my foul and bloated carcass less than appealing.  Who is going to miss me anyway?  Does anyone even know I have not been around?  Perhaps if I cry out in agony someone will strike pity upon me and join me?  Misery loves company, but the wrong company could just end up bringing me more misery.  I opt to stay alone.

I use to be somewhere, I use to be going places, oh how I did fall.  It seems like only yesterday I was on top of the world.  How long has it been?  It is hard to keep track of time when you don't see the sun.  The sun is overrated anyway.  With my pale complexion I am prone to burning, so I say good riddance.  What I do miss is the fresh air.  The air around me now is dank and stale, no wonder no one wants to live here, aside from the more obvious issues why this place can not be a proper home.  That being said, I have grown tired of being here, I am getting anxious.  I need to stretch my legs.  I need to see if they still work.  I need to see my family again.  I need to laugh again.  Will somebody save me, will somebody walk by above.  I have fallen in a well, somebody come get me.

Friday, May 17, 2013

ODE TO ACTION MOVIES: Conan

Crom smiles upon this barbarian male
Off on an adventure in an epic tale
Nears death by a cult with a serpentine hail
Avenging his family without fail
Now with the aid of his thieves he must prevail

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Fighting Poverty

Poverty is a growing problem in the world and it is the civic responsibility to put an end to it once and for all before it is too late.  This growing problem strikes fear into the hearts of the wealthy, and slowly consumes those in the middle class.  Evidence of the problem roams the streets, with Poverty’s legion of rouge wanders…the homeless.  That is where Poverty’s true power lies, within the hearts of the millions of hobo inhabitants of our cities.  It is with this knowledge that we can actually stand up to fight against Poverty, but disarming its minions, we will leave it vulnerable for the final blow.

We must destroy the homeless.  We must band together with pride in our wallets and strip them of the only thing they have left.  This quest is not a walk in the park however, because they currently claim rights to that land.  We must be well armed and properly vaccinated to reduce threat of disease.  Studies performed by scientists and doctors alike have all ended with the same conclusion; the most effective weapon against the homeless are lasers.  A high powered light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation forceful enough to cut the bums in half like melted butter will prove useful.  These coherent beams of photons will be our closest allied, but the destitute have also become armed over the years.  Their weapons are slightly less sophisticated, but nonetheless dangerous.  We must be weary of homeless weapons such as change cups, boxes, shopping carts, and rocket-propelled grenades.

Another factor that must be considered when fighting the homeless is they are all vampires.  Most wealthy vampires prey on the street homeless when their feeding time arises, thus building a band of vampiric battling bums.  The homeless are not as easily defeated as the common vampire however.  Garlic has no effect on them because the aroma of garlic is overpowered by the stench of their being.  Steaks also have no effect, because most homeless have no hearts.  Holy water does work however, as does any water.  Water splashed on the homeless reveals their true selves as it washes away their mask of filth.  This almost immediately transforms them into a right thinking individual again.  It is at this moment to strike them with the laser.

Half eaten sandwiches must also be in full supply when the battle ensues.  The half eaten sandwiches will be tossed at the homeless to cause diversions allowing time for attack and regroup.  The homeless may not be picky about what they eat, but full sandwiches must not be used.  The homeless are wise to many tricks, they are survivors, and if they see a full sandwich thrown at them they will know it’s a trap and fill with rage at the thought of wasted food.  This can be a devastating blow to our forces, because a hungry enraged homeless fighter delivers 47% more damage with each strike.

Once the homeless forces have been reduced, the Poverty power will drop to unimaginable levels, revealing an opportune chance to strike.  If this chance is missed it could mean total devastation to all.  The strike to Poverty must be precise.  Once its heart is revealed a single slice of Swiss Cheese must be laid out in the sun for 3 hours and then placed on the palm of the left hand of Poverty.  This will cause Poverty to transform into Povomitron the Destroyer of the Stars.  Many of our forces will abandon the cause at the site of Povomitron, but we only need a select few to carry out the remainder of the mission.  We must politely say the following words…”Povomitron, Destroyer of the Stars, in our time we have seem plight and plague, please leave us be and take Morgan Freeman as a peace offering.”  No being would be able to refuse that offer, hence saving the world as we know it from Poverty once and for all.

*Disclaimer – no homeless were harmed in the writing of this.  The homeless are human beings, and they don’t have any homes.

Monday, May 13, 2013

SHORT STORY: The Alligator versus the Clown

The circus was in town last night.  Some say the greatest show on earth, but I have yet to make up my mind.  Things did not run smoothly for them, as a lion swiped at a boy.  The ringmaster packed up his tents and left in a hurry after that, but it was hardly the lions fault, the kid was covered head to toe in cotton candy.  He looked and smelled delicious, no one is that strong.  The circus left so quickly they forgot a few things, such as two stools for the elephants, a safety net, and a clown; I think his name was Squiggles.

The next day I was back at work, marking underground utility lines on the highway for the Department of Transportation.  It was a quiet day, barely any cars, then I see a lone hitch hiker making his way up the road, it was Squiggles.  He did not bear the charm of his performance, he looked tired and worn, and you could tell he was not happy, even if his painted on smile suggested otherwise.  He was dragging his big floppy feet and he strayed too far from the edge of the road.  Everyone from around here knows you do not stray too far from the road because that is where the alligators lurk.

He was too far away for me to yell out a warning to, plus his curly green looks as if it would have muffled my call.  I took a few steps closer to grab his attention, but it was too late, a gator emerged.  It did not take the clown long to notice the extreme reptile, well over eight feet from tip to tail.  The alligator glared at the clown as it angered by his intrusion.  The clown just froze, his white gloves shaking at his sides.  The clown took slow steps backwards, but with each step his shoes honked, agitating the alligator.  For every one step the clown took back, the gator took two steps forward.

I was too far away to intervene, but I did make a phone call to the police requesting an ambulance; I knew it was going to be needed.  I have seen my fair share of animal attacks in these parts, most victims are outsiders, and they all do the same things.  First, try to back off slowly, as if the animal just thought they saw you, but you were really a mirage.  Second, size up the animals speed, and ask, can I out run it?  The clown must have decided that with the combination of his baggy pants and oversized shoes, he would not have the speed.  The clown went onto number three, launch a preemptive attack.

I am not certain what the rational behind his next action was, but the clown jumped at the alligator and sprayed it with his trick flower.  Not amused, the alligator jutted forward with such quickness.  His mouth opened wide for a moment, then snapped shut on the clowns leg.  The alligator jerked his head away from the clown, and with it came the clown’s leg.  Squiggles fell to the ground, clutching his bloodied stump, while the alligator made a quick snack of the former appendage.

Witnessing the horrendous display, I ran to my truck and grabbed the nearest makeshift weapon, which happened to be a shovel.  I ran towards the alligator and Squiggles to try to scare off the gator, but it was too late.  I arrived to see the last of the clown being devoured.  All that was left was his course green wig, some shredded polka dotted pants material, and a finger; which hopefully can be used for identification.

When I saw that there was no chance of salvation for the clown I retreated back to my truck.  I could not help thinking about the old saying, “you make me feel funny, like watching an alligator eat a clown.”  I kept thinking and comparing, and did not find the scenario as entertaining as one might think.

Friday, May 10, 2013

ODE TO ACTION MOVIES: The Quest

A quest falls upon Chris Dubois out of the blue,
When he was miming with orphans just for some food.
He was chased out to sea, and sold to a school,
But Jean-Claude Van Damme is nobodies fool.
He trained at the school and became one of their best,
Then snuck into a tournament, to fulfill his life quest.
He wanted the prize, not because it was pure gold,
He wanted to prove he was strong, determined and bold.

Monday, May 6, 2013

SHORT STORY: Why a Train?

I awake on a train.  Nothing appears familiar.  I look around, why am I here?  Did I fall asleep coming home from work?  No, today is Saturday, I distinctly remember work yesterday because it was Leslie’s birthday and we had cake.  So is today Saturday?  The sun is down, so if is it Saturday, it is late.  What did I do today, and why does it smell like turnips?  Maybe not turnips, maybe butternut squash, but definitely some vegetable.  There is no one around me on the train, who would be cooking?  Well not cooking, at least not on a train, that would be ridiculous, but they could have come on the train with turnips.

The conductor is coming to collect my ticket, wait, do I have a ticket?  Wait, I am not wearing pants, where did they go?  I still don’t know why I am on a train.  I better get off before the conductor fines me for no ticket, plus I don’t know where I am going.

So now I am on a train platform, in the dark, with no pants.  At least I know how I got here; I stepped off the turnip train.  I hear someone coming, in the shadows.  Should I be afraid?  I am alone and it is dark, but I have nothing to steal.   Nothing but my boxers and t-shirt, but if they took those it would be embarrassing, plus I don’t know where I am.  In the shadows, it looks like a dog.  Is it wild?  It is getting closer.  That is bigger than a dog.  That is a bear.  I think I can worry now.  Wait a minute, it is wearing pants.  It is wearing my pants.  How did my pants get on a bear?  Was the bear on the train and get off at the same stop as me, or was it waiting here, knowing this is where I would get off?  Should I ask the bear for my pants back or just count it as a loss?  They were a comfortable pair of pants, plus I had my wallet in the back pocket.  I wonder if my wallet is in there, I should take a look to see if I can tell.  But what is the bear thinks I am checking him out and he is a homophobic bear and attacks.  Well there is something in pocket, but it could be his tail crammed in the pants.  I will just get a new license issued.

Alright, the bear moved along, along with my pants, and potentially wallet.  Now I am back where I started, well not really.  I started on a train, and now I am on a train platform, pantsless because of a bear.  Why would a bear want pants anyway?  Wait, if I remember Friday, but not Saturday could this be a dream?  Well, the missing pants and clothed bear seem to aid in that argument, but how can I know for sure?  If you become self aware in a dream what does that mean?  If I try to wait it out would that put me into some sort of dream induced coma?  I wish I paid more attention in psychology.  What if I die in a dream?  Do I wake up?  There is another train approaching, I wonder what will happen if I step in front of it.

Friday, May 3, 2013

ODE TO ACTION MOVIES: Kickboxer

The two Sloane brothers travel out of town,
Then Eric gets paralyzed from the waist down.
Now younger Kurt, must avenge for his kin,
He must learn Muay-Thai, but doesn’t know where to begin.
He trains under Zion, who knew Jean-Claude had guts,
But really Zion just wanted to drop cocoanuts.
Kurt then challenges the champ for his crippling sin,
Even though all of Thailand is convinced he can not win.
How will Van Damme fair against unbeatable Tong Po?
Watch this classic movie, and you too shall soon know.