The Portrait of Zool

*mechanical-singy voiceover* "Transformers! Can-dy for the eye!"

Zool looks at the portrait within the frame within the frame. "I've been framed!" he exclaims. http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif

Interesting... http://www.newsreview.com/sacramento/content?oid=997832 Who's up?

I saw this on the net and knew it HAD to be posted here. An investigation into a pregnancy. There is an unexpected pregnancy. Miss Pause is pregnant. Yes, we have a pregnant Pause. After an investigation we have found out who the father is. There were a number of suspects, especially among the Punctuation Marks. The chief ones were: Messrs Exclamation Point, Question Mark, Period, Semi Colon, Comma and Full Colon. Exclamation Point was quickly eliminated as a suspect. Although very excited at the prospect of having a baby and being a father. He is way too jumpy for Miss Pause. She said something about de-caff. Question Mark was interrogated for a long time. He was much too evasive and never would give much of an answer to any inquiries. But in the end it was found out that he was at the end of a long sentence A most shift key character. Mr. Period was also eliminated. It was quickly ascertained that when Mr. Period is around, no one gets pregnant. After Mr. Question Mark; Mr. Comma and the two Colon cousins, Mr. Semi Colon and Mr. Full Colon were next on the suspect list. Mr. Comma does have an alibi. He claimed that he was helping out a Mr. Apostrophe in a plural possessions job. It seems that Mr. Comma and Mr. Apostrophe look a lot alike and often help out or substitute for each other. Mr. Semi Colon was investigated next. Actually, both Mr. Semi Colon and Mr. Full Colon had to be investigated together. Apparently they have similar jobs and it is difficult to tell when one or the other is called in to work. After some parsing, Mr. Semi Colon admitted to working on some kind of list and therefore is not the father. That leaves Mr. Full Colon. Mr. Full Colon has long been a friend of the entire Pause family. He asked Miss Pause to marry him and she agreed. The ceremony is to be performed by Reverend Ampersand and the happy couple will be living in Parentheses after a honeymoon in Apostrophe. Case closed. From: http://www.purpleslinky.com/Humor/Who-Got-...Pregnant.720367

Inaction is sloth; Action is fatigue.

Saw the new Star Trek movie this weekend, called somewhat appropriately Star Trek. I had been waiting to see it for what seemed like eons, so I was very excited to finally be able to see it. First off, it is a good movie. Very exciting, fast paced, with a very well written script, good acting all around, plenty of action, and even moments of self-satrizing humor, titillation, and superb drama. That's the good news. Reportedly the writers and director were looking to revitalize the Star Trek Franchise by bringing contemporary standards of characterization, visuals and pacing together with the root concepts of the original 60's Star Trek Series. Overall, I think they accomplished this. Of course, some concessions had to be made, in that this isn't your parents Star Trek, and then there is the issue of the storytelling slight-of-hand they used to pull the story away from the expected. It works, IMO, but not without some plot holes which a ST purist will no doubt find quite aggravating, though to the general moviegoer will probably fly right by without a blip. That's the bad news. Much more I really cannot say without giving away more than I should. So, recommended, earning a grudging 4.5 out of 5 Enterprises.

Zool looks down from his portrait this morning through bloodshot eyes. His clothes look soiled and slept in, his pallor ill. One hand holds an ice pack to his head, the other clings tightly to his frame, trying with dubious success to keep it steady. He smelled of BBQ, margaritas, and Pirate Ale. "Uggghhh... If there's one thing worth celebrating, it's Mother's day. What a blowout last night!" ~Zool Host of FIVE Mothers! ...And wishing you a Wonderful Mother's day to all the Pennite Mothers out there!

Zool peeks out from under the brim of his straw hat. "Any light can't help but flatter you, my dear - and thanks for the lift!"

Zool awoke from his nap with a straw hat over his face. Bright sunshine shone down on the figure of the portrait from above. He was fully reclined in a foldable beach chaise lounge chair, a brilliant old fashioned long red and white striped swimsuit adorning his lanky frame. He sat up, letting the hat fall to the sand beneath the chair, revealing thick white paste daubed all over his nose. A heavy black pair of Ray-ban sun glasses rested squarely about two thirds the way up Matt. "Huh... what... What!? Oh, it's you..." Without looking Zool grabbed a tall frosty glass on the sand next to the lounge and lifted it for a drink. The top was covered with an explosion of diced fruit, umbrellas, flowers, and a big colorful fake butterfly. Reaching for the straw he nearly poked his eye out with the end of a blooming Bird-of-paradise, but managed to maneuver it for a safe and satisfying slurp just in time. As he set the glass back down the butterfly flew away. "Say! I like what you've done with the place Authorwannabe! The dust is much better - and much appreciated - you're hired! Speaking of which, no, you don't need to apply for a character. You can make up any character you want - just start posting 'as' him/her! The application is much easier than that - just post any original work in the Recruiter's office, and then you can rest secure in the knowledge you are something other than a guest." Zool lay back and dropped the hat back over his face. "Till then, I am just gonna catch a little more of that nap. Ahhhhh."

Suddenly a cloud of dust billowed down from above, causing all in the room to cough and fan the air. Looking up at the wall could be seen a glowing crack through the dust and cobwebs of many years of parties and housecleaning neglect. The rift trembled, and widened, spilling out an intense light in the ever expanding dust, then an enormous sheet of the grime split apart and fell to the floor, revealing... The Portrait of Zool! *Cough! Cough! Cough!* "I'm..." *Rasppp* "...Very glad..." *Aaah-CHOO!* "...to make your acquaintance, little Lady." Zool swept forward in an a regal bow, doffing his toupee, only to be completely overcome by a coughing and sneezing fit of epic proportions. After some time, he finally lay finished in a crumbled heap at the bottom of his portrait frame. "My goodness," he said, blowing his nose then wiping his brow with the same hanky, "can we get Melba or SOMEBODY to clean this room once in a while? I go for a few centuries, and you'd think the place was abandoned." After regaining his feet, he looked back down at the newcomer, this time giving a polite nod. "At any rate, Authorwannabe, Welcome! I see others have welcomed you with some of the more technical details, but I would like to remind you that the Pen is a place of mystery and imagination..." As the enormous painting spoke, the portrait of Zool standing in the center just as you or I would in the real world, suddenly the canvas clouded over in a solid gray. When the picture cleared again, Authorwannabe saw herself, as in a mirror, reflected back down from high on the wall. "In imagination we can do or be whatever we want," said Zool's disembodied voice, narrating the changes in the canvas, for now it showed... An enormous red dragon menacing the young newcomer! She was dressed in shining armor, an enormous sword and shield in her hands. The dragon screamed, and spewed a jet of flames, prismatically reflected in brilliant hues on Authorwannabe's polished armor as it roared over her head. Rather than fight the dragon, however, she dropped the sword and shield, and produced from a pouch a small red jewel, which she held high to catch the light. The dragon stopped his bellowing as if he had been skewered, then bowed down to Authorwannabee, who placed the jewel in the middle of his massive armored forehead, just above the eyes. The dragon then touched his head to the ground at her feet. The scene faded to black, then points of light began piercing the inky blackness, sprayed in random patterns... Deep space took shape, the magic canvas giving it an eery dimension and rawness that threatened to pull all the onlookers in, to fall forever into eternity... The scene changed again, suddenly opening into a deeper blackness, a more dynamic dimension, even rawer energies. luminous strands of energy stretched in fantastical and impossible directions, everything glowed with it's own internal light - the astral realms. This too threatened to suck the observers in, but as they leaned forward the image cleared - and there stood Zool again. The onlookers immediately stood back. "Let your self do or be whatever you can dream, Authorwannabe, for that is what the Pen is for, that is why the Pen exists." Zool bowed again, but stopped down low, close to Authorwannabe's ear. "Pssst... Just one thing... If a certain Almost Dragon named 'Wyvern' comes around, DON'T BELIEVE A THING HE SAYS. He'll try to sell you something, or worse, sell YOU for something - but just remember, he'll do ANYTHING for a smile." Until we meet again...

Ah yes - just what is the reward of the Watchmen watchers - and who in turn is watching the Watchmen watchers... ;P Fiction, I maintain, is analogous to a universe in test tube form. One tries various combinations of elements and conditions, shakes gently, and invariably watches. Further, IMO there is no more failure in art than in science. One can speak of validation or invalidation of hypotheses and correlation of data - but just as important is the observation of something completely unexpected. The Watchmen does make a heck of a bang though.

Last night I saw the movie "Watchmen", and I really enjoyed it. It is a really great movie. The characterization is well done, the plot riveting, the action well paced, and the visuals as stunning as they come, amply vindicating the decision to cinematize the graphic novel, and their efforts as well. One of the major plot points, if not THE major plot point, on which the stunning main story resolution is built, however, gave me pause. As I thought about it later that night the thought actually occurred to me, "Have the terrorists won?" I discarded the thought as fast as it arose - but the question was a natural one, IMO, which had to be asked in order to be discarded. I'm talking of course about the idea in the movie that the wholesale slaughter of innocent human lives ( if I recall, the number in the movie is 50 million?) is justified for a greater good. So - is the wholesale slaughter of human lives justified for a greater good - namely, in the movie, the potentially peaceful future of the rest of humanity? I would be more than a bit surprised if this isn't more widely discussed as more people see this movie. It is a very timely post 9/11 issue, IMO, and needs to be discussed. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if privately that consideration isn't what helped drive the producers to make the movie, if even in a small way. Ultimately I wouldn't say the movie is condoning any of these things, it just tells the story, ending with the world 'of course' pulling together against a common enemy. It doesn't say if the Utopian world envisioned by Adrian is actually realized or not - though convincing the God-like Dr. Manhattan, with his atomically expanded intellect and consciousness could be construed as a powerful argument in itself. In fact, convincing Dr. Manhattan of the correctness of the plan was undoubtedly the most difficult aspect of the whole movie - but because that perspective really hinges on the judging person's values the story does work, presenting it as a judgment call. After all, the deed was already done - what else could be done now but hope Adrian's plan works? Turning back time was never mentioned in any of Dr. Manhattan's prodigious powers. At the heart of the story's justification though is a characterization of human nature as basically violent. This is where I disagree. Would such a grand and dark scheme actually work out? I don't think so. It may work for a while, but ultimately what the movie is talking about is a world living in fear - fear of reprisals for not working together. Historically, people living in fear eventually revolt or break, period. Fear is not a stable status quo throughout humanity's history. I think that human nature is many things. Sure, humanity has a dark side, but saying that implies, rightfully so, that we have a light side too - a coherent, loving, creative, synergistic side. Which side is manifested at any time depends on many things; Current circumstance, education, individual temperament, family, social, and physical environment, etc, etc, etc - thus my point. Thinking about it, I think the 'smartest man in the world' could have found a better way to find world peace than 50 million human sacrifices - a strategy that went out with the Mayans, at least for the most part - but it sure does make for a good story! Interestingly, Adrian isn't the only one with a 'world peace' iron in the fire. Dr. Manhattan also is working for world peace, which Adrian takes full advantage of in his plans. Isn't it just a howler how the most powerful super hero in Watchmen is also the biggest tool? Most of the Watchmen just gave up on humanity it seems, though their individually coming to terms with that drives much of the story. Mothman, only briefly mentioned a couple times in the movie, is actually stated to have had to be put in an asylum. One can only imagine the seriousness with which he took the situation. The Comedian, of course, was the original cynic. Rorschach, the darkest of them all, is ironically the one who clung most steadfastly to the highest ideals, and may even have 'won' in the end - again, the movie doesn't ultimately say.

SPOILER ALERT If you haven't seen the movie "Watchmen" or plan on seeing it then stop reading right here as discussion of all details will potentially be in the posts to come. I will only say at this point HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

Indeed, Happy B-day to you both.

POUND POUND POUND! The evening quiet was shattered by resounding bangs at the Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword. His after dinner reading disturbed, Grimmael puzzled for a moment what the din could be, and by the third set of explosions resigned himself to finding out what it was. He followed the noise to the front gate, which quite surprised him, as he had forgotten the Keep had a front gate. Most denizens these days teleported, or use a tunnel, or the side door, or a window, or flew... But the front door? How mundanely forgettable. Grabbing a nearby broom he vigorously brushed the dust and cobwebs from the enormous portal, scattering grit, evicting creepy crawleys, and even a couple bunnies, in all directions. Coughing through the near-impenetrable cloud that arose, he heaved up the bar and pulled one side open a short way, which groaned heartily in protest. He peaked out into the cool night air and saw... a black skull? Craning his neck up he saw a mountain of a man, most ominously attired. His limbs and body were thick, like stacked boulders. He wore short black breeches, cinched at the waist with a thick leather strap and an iron buckle the size of a dinner plate. Cast onto the buckle was the dispassionately unmoving grimace of a skull. He wore no shirt, though his prodigious body hair mostly made up for it. His head was completely covered by a black hood with two small eye holes cut out. In his hand was a capacious double bladed axe, the handle made from the trunk of some unfortunate tree, the keen edges brilliantly reflecting Grimmaels's candle light, which he had brought in one hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Grimmael,"Executions are on Thursdays. And next time, please, use the servants entrance." He began to close the door. "This is the Keep of the Might Pen"? It was a voice like rocks grinding, like an avalanche, like an earthquake, like the dead rising from their graves after the great trump. "Yes," answered Grimmael. "Yes, but you see..." "I'm not here to execute anybody. Where did you get that idea?" said the great voice, sounding somewhat taken aback. ""Well, you are dressed as an executioner, and you have an executioner's axe, and, well, you LOOK like an executioner!" "Hmph," rumbled the mountainous man, "My dad always wanted me to be, said it ran in the family, I even gave it a whirl for a while, but, oh, I don't know - was never really satisfied, you know?. So, decided I should experience the rest of the world for a while - you know... to find myself." "Umm.." replied Grimmael, unsure of where this was going. "Well, what can I do for you?" "Let me introduce myself. My name is Tim. I understand there was a vehicle theft, and recovery was imminent, however time has passed and nothing else has come of it. I have been sent to investigate." As he spoke he raised his other arm, and dwarfed in his mighty mit was a sleek black leather attache case. "My card." Grimmael managed to catch the fluttering business card dropped from above, and held it to the Candle to read: Tim B. Head Insurance Investigator Dewey Cheatum & Howe Insurance, Pawn, and Bail bonds. NOT an executioner "Ah. I see. You are going to want to talk to Wyvern." "Actually the car belonged to..." "Doesn't matter. Whenever things like this happen, Wyvern is uncannily always in the middle of it. Come along." Grimmael showed Tim into the Keep.

Zool awoke in a small shady glade beside a bright meadow. "Ahhh," he sighed as he stretched, shaking off the dry leaves and standing up from his bed of boughs "I need this." A wide grin came to his face unbidden as he absorbed his surroundings, then subsided as he remembered the journey of the last weeks - his joyful first awakening in Singingwood, his trek across the valley, the uneasy feeling of constantly being watched from the thin misshapen trees of Ravenwood (was it the 'Girls'? He never found out - though felt something much more sinister tugging at his awareness), then making his way through the Foulmire bog at the foot of the mountain, and finally his arduous climb up from the valley. He stood, and turned a full circle to take in his surroundings. The meadow was in a high mountain pass, walled in on one side by a steep rocky cliff, the cone of a shorter mountain peak on the other. From the way he came he could see a ring of green at the foot of the mountain far below, and then an endless searing desert as far as the eye could see. The other direction, the way he was headed, were rolling hills and a broad misty plain, disappearing into a gray distance. "I wonder where I am?" wondered Zool half aloud, rubbing his hairless scalp with one hand. "You sure ask that a lot," a strange voice said behind him. "Of course, now, as before, you are here." Zool spun around in great surprise to find someone standing where no one had been standing a moment before - a very short someone. "Wh-where did you come from?" he stammered in surprise, after he had looked down far enough to identify that a person was indeed with him, and recovered. The stranger turned out to be a gnome, with a flowing white beard and a wry grin. He wore a blue leather vest, brown sack cloth breeches, a white shirt, and a red cone hat. His blue eyes sparkled over a pipe emitting a thin waft of spicy smoke. "I live here," he replied simply, pulling the pipe stem out of his mouth just long enough to say the words. "Oh," was all Zool could think to say. Then he thought again. "My name is Zool." The gnome stuck out a short hand in greeting, and held his pipe in the other. "I am Boddynock Nimblenoggin Fonkinglim Namfoodle Zook, but you can just call me Bodd." They shook hands, the gnome's completely engulfed by Zool's average sized human one. "So..." said Zool hesitantly, wanting information but not even sure where to start. Bodd turned to look out over the burning desert from where Zool had come, beginning as best he could on his unasked questions. "This shady lit'l glen is the divide between the high and the low, the far and the near, Respite Pass. 'Tis a temporary respite after the rough climb from the bare valley below, and on down to the fair valley beyond, and all points west." Zool looked out on the vast arid panorama below him and was silent for a moment before speaking, when he did it was with hesitant awe in his voice. "Did I climb all the way from down there?" "Of course you did - don' be silly!. You still have much effort to go, but you have come a long way. This is a rest stop." "A rest stop?" "Yes." "Hm. It's pretty nice, can't I just stay here?" "You can try it, 'owever it can be tricky. This is Mount Respite, not Mount Stop. Generally, if you aren't going forward, you're falling back. Journeyin' is the whole point of the journey, it is." "Well... how long can I stay?" "You will know when the time comes." Again, Zool was silent for a moment, this time his thoughts on how everyone around him seemed to know so much more than he did, but decided to just go with it. "I'm tired," he finally stated. "You're tired because you've lost touch with your heart. Think, Zool, and remember the zest that you used to have for life." "Yes... I remember... vaguely. It was all so long ago. Things were just so much more... exciting! But then things changed." "Things always change," said Bodd. "Well, this wasn't just change - it ended." "Every ending is a beginning." But this was the beginning of... of endless labor. There was just work. Shoveling... shoveling the coal into the furnaces - Day in and day out." Zool unconsciously raised one hand to shade his eyes from the unseen blast of the furnaces. A bead of sweat sprung upon his forehead. "But you finally broke free..." gently urged Bodd. "Yes..." said Zool after another long pause. In his mind he was recounting the aeon in the bowels of hell, forever laboring to feed the fires that heated it so, as crazy as that sounded, living in the very searing heat of it, and how it finally came to an end, when it had seemed no end was ever to come. "I found freedom. One day I had simply had enough, and I stared straight into the furnace, and I just started walking... I walked into the furnace... and I came through." "And now you are here!" said Bodd sharply, suddenly breaking Zool's reverie and landing him back in the meadow with a resounding thud. Zool looked around him as though seeing it for the first time, again. He blinked. "And somebody spoke and I went into a dream..." he recited in a whisper. "You give yourself away too easily. Of course, you chose your freedom, and you have made the climb, so it hasn't all been in vain. You have learned to take much better care of yourself! Good! Good! There will, and have been, false starts, but if you keep your goal clear in your mind, and are mindful of the forces surrounding you, you can work around them, even use them, to assist you on your path. It's all right here!" he said, pounding himself in the middle of his small but stout chest. "Always remember - You make your own opportunities." "And our own restrictions," said Zool, smug at having something to add. "Wha?!" said Bodd, cocking his head to look at Zool with one eye over his pipe. "Hmph. Well, T'is a subtle thing - perhaps too subtle. One gives rise to the other, which was part of my point - but is the bota half empty or half full? - which was the rest of my point." Bodd shook his head, and gave an expression of concern. "Be careful what you think, or you just might Be it, t'is the point of my point - You create your own restrictions, ya know," he finished with a smile and a wink. Zool looked down somewhat confused, but the wheels of his mind slowly lurched ahead. "You are very wise, friend Bodd." "Bah. I am merely technical assistance, as we gnomes have been through the millenia, and as such I might take this opportunity to remind you that it is breakfast time - getting on towards lunch!" Zool realized that Bodd was right - realized that he was hungry. "I think there were some berries over... Hey! Where you going?" he called after the rapidly retreating Bodd. "Brunch at my place," called the gnome back cheerfully. "Your respite starts... now!"

Long, long, long before even the long, long, long forgotten ancient times, there was the Parame. For an infinite moment the Parame was All, sleeping a vast trackless sleep. But then the Parame came to dream, and dreaming, came to the vast emptiness of it's own lucidity, immediately to realize there was no 'other'. In it's perception, it created the Void. The Parame and the Void danced the dance of Love, creating Time. The Parame, now slumbering in it's lucid dream-dance with the Void, peacefully floated down the river of time, and dreamed of many things, which began to imagine and fill all the cosmos and it's many shades. The cosmos and it's many shades were infinitely various and dynamic, springing eternal from the Parame, but the Void was always unsatisfied. Unlike Parame, the void knew only of 'other', inherently lacking the Self of the Parame, so desperately sought to continually fill it's Being, but though there was action and form, all was chaos. The Parame, in mirror awareness, shared the Void's realization, and so concentrated it's dreams into One, creating yet another, the Demi-Urge. The Demi-Urge sought to express and experience the source of the universe in unending achingly beautiful emotion from Parame to Void, thus filling the Void with Being, and sharing the boundless Being of the Parame.The Demi-Urge was One but manifest itself into a coherent many, always dancing the Love-dance of the Void/Parame, each manifestation an aspect of the desire and awareness for the fulfillment of Being, sharing the Parame's unending dreamtime, fulfilling the Void's insatiable need, Being that Creation, flowing with the deep, deep waters of Time. And the demi-urge took to happily playing many games with it's new found power and freedom, though of particular interest to us was the corner of one particular galaxy in one particular shade in one particular system on one particular planet, where the demi-urge manifested as seven gods; Nature, Sun, Moon, Magic, Science, Satan, and Lucifer...

A show I recently saw wasn't a movie at all - well, it WAS a movie, but now it's a show... but/and having no where else to talk about it I thought I'd review it here. I'm talking, of course, about Spamalot. Yes, my wanderings recently brought me to Las Vegas, where my loving and adoring wife bought Spamalot tickets for my B-day! Being a die-hard Monty Python fan, I was very much looking forward to it. That said, you might want to keep in mind my bias as you read the review. SPOILER ALERT! Though I don't intend to give away major plot points, if you seriously intend to enjoy the show at some point with as little foreknowledge as possible, you should skip right now to the last paragraph, and ignore all the rest. Okay... First of all, I can see why it has traveled as far as it hasn't, it has a VERY elaborate set that includes nearly every trick in the book, from trap doors to spinning stage sets, from fog to rocket powered feet. Bordering both sides of the stage are two castle towers which reach all the way to the top of the curtains, and are used too, for a couple of scenes where the scene demands an actor converse with someone in a tower. The play doesn't follow the events of the movie (Monty Python and the Holy Grail, for those not in the know) so much as repeat certain popular scenes. Along about the middle of the 'HELP HELP I'M BEING OPPRESSED' scene the Lady of the Lake is introduced, and in the play she has an actual part as an actual actor, and for the Las Vegas show the Lady of the Lake is played by none other than Erica Ash, whose last gig was Nala on the Broadway show Lion King! She is a formidable talent with a heavenly singing voice, probably the most talented actor out there - and they were all stellar, with the exception of some of the bit parts. Anywho, this is the single biggest departure from the original, which leads to many comedic ventures not possible in the movie. John O'Hurley played King Arthur, and though I found his rendition rather reserved, in point of fact Graham Chapman's was also reserved, though had a certain edge to it that O'Hurley lacked. That said, O'Hurley, seemed to play it a hair less straight, with impeccable timing and a lighthearted gravitas that somehow seemed to make his bearing even more regal than Chapman - or perhaps it was his silver hair? In any case, very commendable performance! There were some other major changes in the outcome, but I can't give too much away now, can I? Suffice it to say there is a lot of fun and dancing, sword fighting, romance, and questing, all accomplished in the hilarious Monty Python tradition. The show was not inexpensive, but WELL worth it, ESPECIALLY if you are any kind of Monty Python fan.

Jacobson blinks once, then conjures a room full of illusory holes, all the same size and in the same locations as the illusory walls. The Dominion next to Jacobson grabs hold of the floating staff with a viselike grip as the other Dominion, recovered from his crashing fall, pulls what looks like an enormous pencil sharpener out from under his adamantium robes and advances menacingly. "Now look here Hjolnai," boomed Jacobson, "I don't know who you are or what you're about, but I have a mission and I mean to accomplish it. If you persist in slowing us up I'll have no choice but make sure you get my point - if you get my point." The advancing Dominion, holding the giant pencil sharpener with one hand, turned the arm sized crank with his other causing the blades within to whir ominously. "Don't go anywhere!" said Jacobson suddenly turning to Grimmael, who had tried to slink away during the disturbance. "You are to make sure Mr. ALmostdragon shows!" Grimmael gulped again, then shouted, "Hello! Anybody? Heeeeeellp!"

I slowly awaken to a blissful warmth and caressing on my cheek. It is a refreshing breeze and a ray of sun. Not the blast furnace of the previous aeon, but something enjoyable and nurturing. And awakening! Before, there was nothing to mark the passage of time but footsteps, and periods of despair/lucidity. No night, no seasons, just a vast intractable furnace... But that was just a memory now. I was now in a paradise forest. The gentle rushing of a nearby creek greeted my ears as I sat up in the grass to drink in my idyllic surrounding. Trees guarded my rest, and now a ring of pretty flowers around me greeted my morning. What did I do to deserve this, I wondered, then chided myself for thinking I had anything to do with it. Perhaps - just perhaps this wonderful forest existed for it's own sake, and I was simply fortunate to have wandered into it? Wheels within wheels, I reminded myself, stretching myself on the grass as I drank in the natural beauty around me - then I sat up stunned at an unusual and ominous sound. It was close. I froze, peering into the greenery trying to devine it's source when I heard it again, closer this time. Definitely someone, or some thing... giggling. "We're up here', said a disembodied voice, startling me terribly and causing another bout of giggles. My head snapped up to see two young women sitting in the tree above me. When I caught sight of them they laughed outright then launched into a series of acrobatic moves that quickly put them in the tree across my tiny grove. They moved around each other and through the trees with such rapid, fluid and beautiful moves I couldn't help but stare. Their gauzy slips that passed for clothes also vied for my attention, as they wore nothing else - no shoes, jewelry, nor did they appear to be wearing make-up. Wood nymphs? I wondered? Almost, but they didn't blend in quite enough - much too pink... My wonderings were interrupted when one asked, "Are you glad to see us?" and then another eruption of giggles. Eruption? Much too harsh of a word - their laughter was melodius, crystalline - feminine... "Who are you?" I asked, wondering again. "Who are we, he asks," said the one to the other. "The question is more like where are we," stated the other matter-of-fact. They looked back at me, smiling, but did not laugh. They were not classically beautiful, but they were unmistakably female, and attractive. Their curly dark hair was shoulder length. They had rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and pouting red lips. They weren't twins, but certainly close enough to be sisters. "Um, yes... Where are... we?" I asked, quite uncertain what I was asking. "Good question," said the one. "If you cross the meadow you'd be leaving Singingwood," said the other. "...and if you go back the way you came you'd come back to the end..." "...so to start I'd be seeking the mountain beyond Ravenwood..." "...for beyond that is the Keep of the Mighty Pen, and all points west." "Oh," I said simply at the information. I thought a moment, then thought to get back to my original question. "What are your names?" A peal of giggles was my first answer, then an obliging voice recalled, "We are 'the girls'," then they again shot throught the trees in their curious shadow motion, trailed by girlish laughter. "Don't worry, we'll be around.." called out one as they faded into the forest, and then they were gone.

Some time, some when, some where... I am still walking through the desert. Raising my vision from the parched ground I shade my squinted eyes with one hand to peer at the horizon. How far the horizon is I have no idea - it seems a long way off, though I know I have been walking for what seems an eternity and hadn't reached it yet. My boiled brain drifted from my task for a moment to try to recall where I was going over that horizon... or where I had come from... but I drew a blank. My mind foundered for a second, then steadied again with the thought of my task - to cross the desert. Oh yes, I remember now - I was escaping Hell. All of Terra had been cast in the fiery pit at the final Armageddon, and this time there was no return. There seemed to be no redemption this time but to enter the furnace and see where the smoke takes me. I had been walking ever since. Ever and ever since... My joints aching, my blistered skin stinging, my thirst tormenting, I returned to shuffling forward... but then stopped and flew up my hand again. Was there... was that...? Peering intently through the baked folds of my eyelids a vision formed as the fog in my mind seemed to pull back a little. I could just see... a haze. The eternal crisp demarcation between burning azure sky and scorched white earth seemed to be be losing it's edge ahead of me. Yes... I was sure of it. Something, finally, was ahead of me. With an enthusiasm and strength I hadn't felt in eons, I strode forward with all the haste I could muster.

Welcome Tilja! It's good to see... some new faces!

Of course, there is always...

ROFL! THAT is funny! Hmmm... I may have some fish pics around somewhere...

Zool wakes up with a start in his portrait. Realizing a momentous occasion has passed, he looks as far left and right as he can, before muttering, "I do hope he stays a bit - I've certainly missed that Tramin."