Been very busy lately.
Funny how that happens.

I always think better when I am engaged. Torpid times let my mind wander to dark places. Which is why this recent development was strange...

As I lay soaking in my bath, relieving the aches from the days exertions (and from injuries I thought long since healed), I finally understood my Father.
We had never really gotten along, and he had always seemed cross, irritable, unhappy, as lacking in praise as he was brimming with criticism. He was filled with an anger I never understood. Until now.

He was resentful and disappointed. Bitter that the world and many people in it had failed him. Many people had said he was a smart man... I never saw it. Now I do. He saw the world as it could be... as it should be. He saw the great potential in people. He had much criticism for people when they failed to live up to the standards he knew they could reach. His rare praise was for when someone proved even better than he thought they could be. It was all a compliment. A testimony to how great he knew the people around him could... should be. He saw the very simple ways the world's problems could be addressed and ameliorated, and raged that the greed and short-sightedness of so few blocked those solutions at every turn. He would speak of it on occasion. Usually he just drank heavily to bring some state of mental numbness where he could escape from his frustration. As my own disgust with the "realities" of "how the world works" mount, I see what brought him to where he was.

It causes me no small discomfort that I shall never be able to share this understanding with him. That I reviled him so long, and that he passed with us under such hostile terms, and only now do I understand what it he was all about, is a bitter revelation.

There is a moral to this.
People die. Life is fleeting and fragile. Make your amends while you can. There is time enough for spite in the grave. I know not a single person who ever lamented not telling someone they hated them, but many who lament not telling someone they love them.

What we love is more important than what we hate. We aught act like it.

Maine has passed Question 1, which basically rejects the rights to same-sex marriage that the legislature had passed earlier that year. Just over 52% of those who voted (which was about 54% turn out) decided "...reject the new law that lets same-sex couples marry and allows individuals and religious groups to refuse to perform these marriages?"

In even more gruesome news, Washington state has passed Referendum 71, which pretty much strips civil unions of the rights making them equal to marriage which they confer. On one hand, this doesn't target just one minority with injustice, on the other, it is even more gruesome than a marriage ban in my opinion, as it denigrates the second-class marriage that minorities are allowed to have. About 51% of those who bothered to vote (a paltry 29% turn out) decided that Civil Unions should have far less legality than marriage.

To put this in more finalized numbers...
In Maine, 27% (266,324 people) of the eligible voting population has stripped homo-sexual couples of the right to marry.
In Washington, 15% (511,651 people) of the eligible voting population has redefined Civil Unions.
How is this allowed to stand?
In California, we had a 79% turn out, of which 52% voted to pass Prop 8. Which is only about 40% of eligible voters?
Why don't referendums to the public vote require a quorum to be valid? If these referendum processes claim to represent the will of the people, why can such a small population slice pass these measures?

It is the most curious of things.
That the body might be ravenous, yet the spirit hate the very thought of food as it hates Hell. Mayhaps 'tis some alien humour which is brought about by the radiance of the silvery lady. Mayhaps some snarl of lingering doubt or distaste conspires to wreak this strange havoc upon my person. Mayhaps my over-wrought imaginings have gained some insidious purchase over my reason. Be that as it may, the two greatest sources of joy in my life now seem as deplorable to my heart as the most debased of acts.

I love working with mechanical devices and especially clockwork.
There is something very fulfilling about putting a delicate object back in order and seeing it run. Something not unlike a microcosm of creation.
Now, I'm not getting arrogant here, just enjoying something constructive.

I've been in a bad way for awhile green fans, and I'll not lie to you.
But it looks like that is finally coming to a close.
I am humbled, yet alive, and mayhaps a little wiser for my failings.
Now that I am on the upswing, I can start making even with everyone I am indebted to, that will feel nice. I'm reminded of a song, and I've got it listed below.
Anyway, not reporting much else so I don't jinx it.

Well, that settled that.
Got the recommendation letter back, sited that there is at least one public record of my "admitting to sexual deviancy" , in so much that I had listed my orientation as Bi-.
They recommend that the bar on my re-enlistment not be raised.

I should thank them, I had forgotten what a stupid and odious chore military service for this nation is. They reminded me that at the end of the day, It's so much offal. That I bled for this nation means nothing in the face of the possibility that I might not use gender as the determining factor in who I spent intimate time with. How silly of me.

This leaves me only more resolute.
I am a Soldier, whether they like it or not. That can never be taken from me, not by some fat and lazy board of bureaucrats who have never seen battle. Not by some bigotted panel of politicos who claim to represent minorities, even being them, while busily not working to bring equality to our FREE and EGALITARIAN nation's armed services. I already bled for that filth. Truth be told, I'd do it again. Regardless of how much I despise them, they are still my fellows, still citizens of MY nation. However, so long as we do not seem to need my services, I can be contented. I know that our situation is not dire, that our military must be fully staffed, if we can afford to turn people away on such trivial reasons. And when that is proven a lie, and it falls to the free citizens to rise up in defense of their own homes, as the Framers envisioned, then I will be there, I will be ready. Being a Soldier isn't about the uniform, or the rank, or the pay. It is about loving a nation, and placing your body before the flames in it's name.

When my broken body feeds this land, when I bleed my last drop to nourish her, she will not care the colour of my skin, my gender, my religion, or my bed-partners any more than she will care what my favourite beverage was. All that she will care is that here was a person willing to die for her.

And in the end, it is her I love. Above all others. For better or worse. I've always had problems with relationships, mayhaps now I see it is because I am already spoken for... I always related better to ideals than people anyway.

It is with some sardonic amusement that I announce yet another attempt to move forward, rather than look back.
Employment prospects are looking good.
Waiting for word back from VA about getting my re-enlistment bar lifted.
It is what it is. There are some things, once done, that cannot be undone, and every effort to set them right is thwarted. Such maybe the case. The lesson in all this may be that I need to forgive myself and move on. Or at least find a different road to redemption.

Feeling worse about two of my friends moving to Hawaii than I'm letting on.
No, that's not right.
I am being selfish, as usual. The real problem is that I am watching them move forward while I am stagnant. I feel bad, not about them moving on... I am happy for them... but rather, that it serves to highlight my own failings.

I am near to thirty, with only the barest hint of education beyound High School, no real prosepcts. I need to be able to provide for others, it is what makes me feel best. So long mulling over my past failures, and so little time spent becoming better, earning the life I have so graciously been allowed to continue.

I am being carried now, and it hurts almost as much as falling. I am supposed to do the carrying.

They say one can never go back.
It is also said that one cannot look to the future and the past at the same time.
This leaves me in an uncomfortable position.
Well it did...
Until I realized that what I need to do so I can stop looking over my shoulder is in fact ahead of me, rather than behind me.
I don't need to go back, I need to go forward until I have circumnavigated existence and returned to the place it all went wrong.
Round Terra defeats linear angst.

The Eye recalls:
He is late.
He is a junior member of the Villains club here.
His senior wishes Skittles.
He finds no Skittles.
He is humiliated.
They ostracize him.
Years pass.
He has grown bitter.
He has grown powerful.
His hatred and loneliness give him the motivation to become a mighty person.
He despises all of humanity.
He rules over a wasteland, all life other than himself extinguished from this world.
I tell Thomas to get the M&Ms instead.

Ryan's Blog:
WTF!
I've got this odd terror of Skittles now. I Fsking luv Skittles, now I can't eat the damn things without feeling like I'm imperiling the whole damn world or some @#$%.
@#$% I need another drink. I need to stop playing with that piece of @#$% we picked up back when. Time to put the mind expanders away, before they put me away. I need a smoke.

( somewhat emo ) Well, there that was.

Right then.
Time to stop running. Time to turn and face the past I have so meticulously hidden from these years. So want am I to talk about my past failings... for they haunt me, I know what went wrong, no, what I did wrong. Only now am i finding the courage, the resolve, and the opportunity to rectify these errors. If the past will not release me, if my demons are so pervasive, then I must return to the place whence they spawned and be done with them, banish them back to the shadows from whence they came. It is said that one cannot look to the past and the future at once. I am weary of looking over my shoulder, fearing what has followed me, unable to give the present and future the propper care they deserve. Time to vanquish that which has plagued me and move on. I know what I need do... I suppose I knew all along.

Another time, another place... another chance.
Eventually it comes to pass, that we have the opportunity to put aside our past, to put aside our shortcomings, and live. Truely and without reservation. Free of guilt, free of fear. Then, and only then, can I say that it was all worth it.

The Eye recalls:
They are young.
Two were still awake.
They are talking about the future.
They had carrots with dinner.
Sara is going to be adopted next week.
Micheal is having dreams about swimming.
There is a bright light.
I feel a knot form in my stomach
I must watch slowly.
Tears well in my eyes.
I watch them, slowly discorporating, the beam tearing them apart on what I understand to be a molecular level.
I am crying now.
As the lambent ray incinerates the children, I face upwards, I follow the beam, I find it's source.
They all died.
I will always remember this.
Yet it will not happen now.

Ryan's Blogg:
Had another F#$%^ing "dream" last night. Bunch of kids got incinerated, only in slow motion. I remember like it was one of those science shows where everything's done in 1 frame every 18godbillionth of second, and then they play it one frame at a time. It was disgusting.
Need a damn drink. Need a dozen damn drinks.
This s#$% is getting too much.
Why the $#%^ do I get to remember this @#$% that never happened.

Oh me oh my!
Right, so, caveat lector, my next few entrees shall, largely, be in character from a Mutants and Masterminds game a friend of mine is running.
The title will generally include something about Unblinking Eye/Ryan Vignette.
I've never really wrote fiction for my own characters before, but some of what I am doing in the game is just demanding that I give it some clearance.

To put in perspective, Ryan was a regular college student on a Summer internship with an archeology association. While digging thru some ancient ruins, he and several friends became separated from the group and stumbled upon an ancient altar. Thereupon they found the divine regalia of the ancient kings of that lost civilization. Ryan took the Diadem, which grants super-sentience to it's bearer. Now he can see into the past and future, discern atomic details, and hear the thoughts of others as if they had been shouting them aloud. It also grants the wisdom and genius of the ancient Kings. This has caused him no end of grief.

Mechanically, for those interested, the Diadem offers a slu of super-senses and bumps up all mental stats by 10. As M&M is sorta a D20 game, that's a huge amount. He is almost two different people, one wearing it, the other without.

So,I've decided I'll post some of his split views on on events in game, most of them are fairly easy to understand and self contained.

Right, so, as you may know, I've been having trouble accessing my preferred source of might.
My Anger, my hatred.
All my vitriol... it's been draining away.
Today that almost changed.
It teased me.
Such a flirt, that silly Dark Side.

I felt it, one of my friends managed to set me off.
It was great, for all of like, 3 minutes.
Then it just fell apart.
It all seemed so very silly.

As I type this, I can barely suppress giggle fits.
Really, if you know me, imagine me, going from one of my dark and angry moods, and then it all just falling apart, and I'm left barely able to contain my laughter.

And I can't really say something went wrong... cause it didn't. It went right.
seriously, I'm in on the joke, or rather, it's funny. It may not make sense, but I'm amused.

Heavens help me if I ever need to fight someone again.
Then again, maybe when I laugh, they'll see how silly it all is as well.
Or they don't, and I die.
either way, I guess I win.

There are times when it seems that fortune has nothing kind for us.
When one thing after another falls apart.
We are left to survey the wreckage of everything we thought we had.
Things we never truely had.
For we cannot have a thing.
Nor a person, nor land, nor an object.
They aren't ours.
Possession, control, authority.
These are illusions.
Some we weave for ourselves, some we work together to weave for all.
We enter this world with nothing, and that is exactly what we will take with us when it is all said and done.
The beauteous span between is what it is.
It cannot be owned, possessed, or controlled...
Nor should it be.
These matters are temporal.
Only recently am I accepting this fact.
Only when unburdened from clinging to the past,
Only when free of fear of the future,
Only without assumption can the moment be embraced.

After all, that's all I have.

Once there was a Corpse
And he had died.

He really didn't mind, these things do happen after all.

Besides, now that he was dead, there was so very much to do
And he would have time for it all.
Plots and plans,
People and places.
Everything that had come before and had yet to be.

So much for the peaceful afterlife!

When asked why he had become so busy,
"To die is not to end." He would reply.

Back from the cat sitting.
It was fun.

Got plenty of writing done.
Yes, writing.
In case you were wondering if I could become any less useful, I've taken up one of the least productive hobbies of all. I write bad fiction now. ;)

That aside, feeling pretty stable right now, almost serene. Still suffering from a cataclysmic failure in hatred, but that's sorta alright.

I've been thinking about sharing the origins of the Corpse Sutras, but I'm not sure how well that would go over. I suppose the doubts about my sanity are already strong enough without more fuel for that fire, and I'm pretty sure some people would consider it Nightmare Fuel.

We'll see.

I am off cat sitting, wish me well.

Once there was a Corpse.
And he thought himself mighty and wise.
He knew many secrets.
He had won many battles.

All around him, the marks of his great accomplishments.

But it brought him no happiness.
It only reminded him of what he didn't have.

So much for sweet memorabilia and gentle nostalgia!

When others asked,
"Why do you take no joy in your past?"
"At the end, all accomplishments die." He replied