The Quagmire of my Discontent: The Apocalypse of WeeSaul - Abondon all hope, ye who enter here!!!

Here I sit in the dark, just me and my laptop. There is not a sound to be heard on this night – no traffic up and down the street, no sound of the neighborhood animals, no sounds of humans to break the silence. So here I sit in the dark telling my tale in an almost unnatural darkness that has enveloped the house and the world that surrounds it...

To my left a candle flickers so that I have enough light to tell the tale of this night. I can imagine myself being a scribe in a monastery in some far off corner of a kingdom that has long ago ceased to exist. And here I sit transcribing some ancient document that I have completely memorized from the many times that I have done so during my lifetime. Every word is a story unto itself, every punctuation an insect scurrying across the words, every paragraph a cliff to peer from off into the distance, every page another life to live. And so I have gone medieval upon my laptop...

And a sound cuts through the silence and reminds me that there is still life beyond these castle walls. At first the sound is hard to recognize - so distant and so faint. It grows slowly, coming closer and closer. And then I recognize the sound for I have heard it so many times before. It is the roar of a dragon as it flies over the countryside in search of treasure or food or quite possibly both. I sit careful to not make a sound so that it doesn't mistake me for a midnight snack and I pray that this castle isn't inviting enough for it to steal my wealth. After a few tense moments, the dragon is gone; and this little far-off corner of the kingdom is again returned to silence...

I and I lone am brave enough to conquer this unnatural darkness that has descended upon this realm. It is I who is brave enough to stand before the Armies of Darkness and force them to yield to my will. It is I who must defend this castle and all who may have taken refuge within from the horrors that hide within the darkness. It is I who shall survive this onslaught and tell the tale so all the world may know what abominations dwell within the cover of night and that devour the weak and helpless...

And so it is as I await the return of electricity in this far-off corner of this kingdom...

The salted taste of all your tears and woes
Sent me in haste my melancholy rose
Those tasteless lips were closed
You watched me come, you'll see me go...

And so ends another vacation – another period of time spent away from the reality that I know. So I venture back to the beginning from whence all things came. And in our great ship we sail high above the white foam of this sea...

Much like last year's vacation has thought me many things about human nature and about the tendencies of some of these so-called humans that inhabit this water world. One thing that I have learned again is that usually those with rental scooters really should be walking for there own sake. It would be good for them to actually use the legs that they were born with rather than sucking up the precious resources of this world using the these mechanized devices. Another thing that I have rediscovered is that many of these scooter renters also feel that they have absolute command of all things around them and that they are lord and master over all of us who are unfortunate enough to have to use such a primitive mode of transportation such as walking – we the plebes of this planet must do as commanded or lest we have to fear that our ankles will be broken or are feet flattened by the weight of their mobile thrones...

Lesson number two which is along the lines of the previous lesson (so please refer to lesson number one if you have any questions as to what I'm speaking of, thank you) but it involves parents (usually mothers for some reason) who power vacation with their children in strollers. The worst offenders amongst these are those who like lesson number one are renters of the double-wide strollers with the large metal plates bolted on the nose for maximum damage when ramming. As my ankle fully knows these metal plates can be quite painful when a mother goes barreling through a crowd to escape a few raindrops that are falling. Rain to fall in Florida? That is so unusual. Of course in my ever sarcastic manner I thanked her for the injury that made it extremely uncomfortable to walk over the course of the rest of the day and the course of the next though she did not even acknowledge my existence but such are the ways of royalty in this land...

Other than the injury that was inflicted upon me, the biggest thing that I do not understand is why drag the child or children about the park when they will barely even remember it happening ten, fifteen, twenty years from now. If they would only think. How much does any parent remember of their first five years of life or even the first ten years. Most of the memories are faded remnants of some scrapbook that was kept to preserve their memories when they have long ago been forgotten and the half-truths of the adults who were present...

And we suffered through a 45 minute delay, which left us having to go at full speed across Atlanta International Airport so that we could be seated last and so that everyone who was already seated could glare at us as we huffed and puffed getting aboard this somewhat small ship of the sky. After we had been seated, the captain stated that he was waiting for 19 lost souls to find their way to the dock. I don't imagine many made it before we did even though I was in a gimpy state and the journey across the airport was filled with many trials and tribulations and a great deal of discomfort from my stroller injury (thank you very much, ma'am) and no one made it on after for I can imagine that many had just given up on the odyssey and resigned themselves to their Fates. Though at the moment that these words are appearing upon this once pristine sheet of paper, I can only imagine where my luggage is and what sorts of adventures they are enduring to arrive safely at their final destination. And when they do finally arrive I shall tell the tale of their misadventures in the Land of the Lost...

As an aside, the view of Atlanta International Airport at night is amazing – like Christmas had sprung up across the landscape in the middle of May with a multitude of twinkling lights of various colours and sizes...

For the most part the holiday was good, filled with much activity and merriment though I would have preferred to eat far less fast food and many more actual meals, but I may be weird in this regard though I do rather enjoy sitting a spell whilst I enjoy the food that has appeared upon my plate. The spring rains that fell upon our heads was not overly unbearable though the day it rain for most of the day was the day when I was in the greatest amount of discomfort (thank you again, ma'am). And for the most part the temperature was not sweltering though the humidity could have been a few percent lower. And the crowds were not so large that I felt trapped by weight of the masses pressing against me. And the rides and attractions filled my soul with memories of a bygone time when I did not have a care in the world. And the ignorant and rude of many lands did not make me wish that I should have stayed home. Well, OK, there was that one woman who had to save her children from the drops of rain that were gently falling from the sky and who did not mind running into me in the least – if I only had a bulldozer I would have made her see the error in her ways...

And the voyage is nearly over for most of the intrepid travelers though there is more adventures in store for the luggage as they attempt to find their way home. And so shall I conclude this epic tale that would have made Homer proud of our exploits...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

Once I was happy in happy extremes
Packing my bags for the path of the free
From pillar to post I am driven it seems
These bitter tokens are worthless to me...

Thirty thousand feet above nowhere we find ourselves on this journey to a land so very far far away. Everything below is fading to the blue end of the spectrum with tiny white fluffy clouds wander the fields of blue as so many sleep grazing upon the plains in some far off memory of when I was so much younger. The Earth passes beneath us so slowly as we soar to a land so long ago forgotten though when we set foot in this place the memories will come crashing down upon us in waves my some yet unnamed sea where time began. And so it is as this ship of the sky carries us to our destination and we, the steerage passengers of this great liner await the moment that we reach the port of our new place that we shall call home if only for a brief while...

And so it goes as I fill the moments of this voyage of discover with thoughts that span both time and space awaiting my bowl of gruel and tin of water for we do not have a first-class ticket on this ship and we shall not dine with the dignitaries nor shall we dances with royalty. We may hear the band play off in the distance like a dream like a dream that we shall soon awaken from though nothing more shall we hear above the pounding of the pistons and the hissing of the boilers. Even the voices of those we find ourselves packed in with is drown by rhythm of the machinery of the modern age. The stench of the coal and the sweat of the masses fill the air as the huddled masses sail in search of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...

And the journey so on and on for what seems like an eternity while we look off into the distance and appear to be standing still. This feeble Twentieth Century mind has not adapted to seeing the world at this scale – it is so unnatural, so unreal, so surreal. This is a view that should only be seen by angels as they watch over us or the eagles as they soar in search of their daily bread. This is not a view that should be seen by the eyes of man...

And yet we sail on towards the end of the earth. We continue towards the jaws of the great beast that will devour us. We sail on toward the point that no maps will show – a point that has yet to be named by mortal men. We are the pioneers of this new frontier. We are those who have been given the task to claim the world for God and Country. We are the ones who will civilize the native populations. We are the ones entrusted to bring our visions of the world to this strange land...

And still we sail on into the unknown and the distant shores of our new beginnings are still unseen. The cries of, “Land, ho!” are still off in some future that we have not as of yet reached. And what this future hold for the weary travelers of both time and space? Will we find our El Dorado? Will we find our Fountain of Youth? Will we save the natives from certain damnation of church that they have not known? Will we find our Garden of Eden and live out our days in a paradise of our creation? Will we quietly live on against the faceless and nameless who have come before generation after generation throughout the history of this world? Only time will reveal the truth and will may never know the answer until we have long since passed. And such is the way of things for those who occupy steerage on this ship and so shall it be for those who will come after us generation upon generation that search for the meaning of all things in the world that we have not yet experienced...

“Land, ho!” is the cry that comes down from the crow's nest and our final destination is in sight though those of us who live this life in steerage still have not seen the land off in the distance. And so the time of our journey is quickly coming to an end and we will soon be strangers in a strange land. And we can only fantasize what the future holds for us as we set foot on the shore of our new reality. We will never fully know the implication of our setting foot on this pristine beach will have on our descendants. We will never fully know our place in the history of this universe. We will never the changes that will occur when we leave our footprints in the sands of time...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

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And we are merely players
Performers and portrayers
Each another's audience
Outside the gilded cage...

I find it so fascinating to be surrounded by people and yet be absolutely alone. All those who sit around me have no idea that I am writing about them as they chat with those they are here with or those who they are conversing with upon their hand-held electronic devices. And I sit and I watch and I learn – I am a stalker of mankind and no court can stop me from doing all that gives me enjoyment, a Peeping Tom of all that this life has to offer...

I will discover what your favorite sports team is or what type of music you enjoy or what causes you find important or how you feel about yourself and the amount of pride you take in your personal appearance. I will quickly discover if you are a native or if you have come to these parts from a land faraway. I may even find out what types of books or magazines you enjoy reading or what type of beverage you want to drink. And all this information is given to me freely whether you know it or not...

And the masses will never question my motivation nor will they ask to be removed from thoughts for I do as I please in this theater of the absurd...

And that is what this life is after all, theater on a grand scale and we all must play the roles we have been assigned even if we thought we could have played a much better Romeo or Juliette than the popular person who eventually was given that part. And much as Lear we scream into the advancing storm though we fully realize that this action is in vein and that no one will hear our screams. And though we wish that we had been cast into a musical we find ourselves starring in a Greek Tragedy. And such is to be expected for those who do not make it through this life on the casting couch of the infinite...

And all the writers want us to say lines that are so out of character for our parts. And the director's vision of the play is far different than the picture we have within our minds. And the critics will pick apart each and every imperfection in our performance. And the fans that we once had will not even remember what our name was...

And so from this drama I will take a bow though no one will notice nor will they care...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...