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THE CURE CRISIS
The plot is: A man on the run is divulging his "tell all" story to a journalist.
The setting is mainly a Starbucks patio.
The genre is Science-Fiction.
The Background:
"...The Cure for everything came the Fall of 2018. In that year two major events that changed the world came in the fields of technology, and medicine. Then with the combination of the two....
After 27 years of global protest and civil uprisings over the ‘Eugenics War’ the United Nations stepped in and became the governmental presence behind the heavy regulations imposed upon the Emulator’s production and use.
Under these new sanctions against global population control two main factions arose throughout the world: The Church and The Underground. The institutionalization of a regulatory commission, headed by various religious organizations splintered from governmental controls creating a new religious faith. The New Life Emulation Church. Under the guise of Christianity it made the Lee-Roberts Device their main doctrinal focus, preaching: “the means of the resurrection in Christ can be had today through Science” at a price of course.
The second faction was The Underground. They were in reality: loosely-affiliated, autonomous groups that ran in a mafia-style fashion. The Emulator’s use was heavily regulated by the United Nations, leaving only skilled technicians as mandated operators; yet the “business” could be privatized.
By use of this device assisted suicide became legal. Even “regular” suicides decreased dramatically. Individuals with Chronic diseases could be paid for their own self-terminations with the Insurance funds going to their families; and of course a large portion going into the pockets of whichever faction carried out the procedure. The use of the device’s collected “souls” could be designated for the life-extension of loved ones or donated to the needy; there again, as seen fit by either one of these ’privatized’ factions. "
The Black Sheep?
BUT these many years later I have begun reaching out to him and we are renewing a better relationship. Difficult being so different. Now I working on my sister. I am the youngest, yet it seems I have always had to be the more mature, stable and responsible one.
THE WHEEL TURNS
I debated showing this. But I got to thinking why. People look away from death as though it is foreign but it is only the closure in the Wheel of Life. Kinda wish I had pictures of other loved ones in this phase. Years ago it was the normal thing to do, photographing your loved ones after they had passed on. Yet we've become a sterile society where death is only glorified with War Heroes, though we never see even their flag draped coffins return as a reality check of their greatest cost. Or in movies where gore has so desensitized us from the real thing and the real thing looks "fake".
This former shell of my mom looks nothing like her in life. She didn't wear makeup, much less dark lip stick, and the ear rings - very rarely. The hair is almost funny because the artist had nothing to go by and she didn't wear her hair in this fashion. This is not meant to be morbid or poke fun, but like the open casket service, a Farewell tribute for the living. The book is closed now, the life over with only memories to re-polish till all the negative ones are faded and the good ones remain.
Our Little Snow Day
With what briefly layered snow we got today here in Texas I made a sad little figure mingled with leaves. A real dirty snow man ( LOL ) made by a dirty Snow-man. Moments after I videoed it collapsed, and so taking a still from the footage I captured this image just to say I tried to make one this year. 2 hours later it all melted away any-who! It was fun while he lasted.
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Memories
I came across a lot of old photographs and took some pictures of the pictures. Later on after I actually get the scanner up and running again I will post some of them. After my mom passed away a flood of memories have washed over those once closed mental gates. Interesting how time has refashioned those old experiences. I would like to go back on a road trip and take video and new pics of those places where my childhood events played out.
Death
The world turns with or out without/
With out you, it is less the joy/
Without me, I wouldn't know/
Turning is the journey.
MY "mom" passed away today...
My "mom" passed away today: January 10, 2013. Brenda Joy Shepherd. My parents divorced when I was very young, in 1969 I was 6 years old. My Dad re-married. Dad had just come off a difficult break up and re-bounded into another relationship, meeting Brenda at a bar. Over a discussion learned she was recently divorced as well, and with a small daughter of her own. My brother and I were given over, by the State of Texas, to my "mother" (Linda Townsend); whose heroin addiction and prostitutional behaviors ended up 'losing' my brother and I. Having been left a a babysitter for three days alone got the Child Protection Agency of the day involved. My brother and I became wards of the State and placed in Buckner's Children Home in Dallas, Texas.
After my Dad and Brenda married in a Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses they came and got us out of Buckner's One of my earliest childhood memories is waking up in the dark, in the front seat of the car looking up into Brenda's face asking, "Are you going to be my new mommy now?" Which she replied, "If you want me to be." "Okay." I said then drifted off to sleep again. I really was "the red-headed step child."
With Brenda as my "mom", (I never knew my mother for Linda was in a Huntsville prison I met her in 1979; another story altogether); things seemed different.
I was raised as one of Jehovah's Witness. I always thought of it as a "normal" childhood - like everyone else. As the years passed and I grew, I realized I was different on so many levels. Yet my differences would not make me bitter but into a more empathetic adult. As a Jehovah's Witness we were not allowed to "do anything". That's hard for a kid. I remember standing just out side of the classroom during morning prayers or saluting of the Flag at school, not going to football games; getting off the Track and Field Team in Junior High School like I wanted because it was an "evil competitive Worldly sport". I recall many many times how "Jehovah disliked little boys who did 'such-n-such'. Masturbation would have had me stoned just outside the city limits had I lived in the Biblical era, I was repeatedly told! Never knew what that was; but my older brother was "leaning in that direction". When I could not understand something like a math problem or Bible verse I was constantly asked if I was retarded or just plain stupid. I have heard a constant ringing in my ears ever since I could remember, ear infections and slaps up-side-the-head were my childhood normal. I knew my parents loved me because they always told me how hard it was for them to discipline such a wicked but loved child who couldn't get things done right. I do not remember when I stopped wetting to bed, early teens I believe. My brother, sister and I were "loved" just not in the same room together. There was always yelling, strife and contention. Some "drama" played out on a nightly bases. Our Brady Bunch family was nothing like the TV version of the merged unit. Ours was the example of dysfunction and disguise. No one ever knew the perfect family Jehovah provided me in my youth.
Brenda passed away from complications resulting from Emphysema. I had not spoken to her since the divorce from my father in 1991 or so. Only recently, after 22 years had my (step) sister, Cindy and I begun corresponding via handwritten letters, e-mail, and a few verbal phone calls was I actually able to hear Brenda's aged and chronically ill voice. My reaction was - disinterest. I know some will think me callous and cold, but when you have had such a disconnected upbringing and "disinterest" how else should I have reacted to such dismissal of "normalites of life"
Upon hearing the news of my "mom"'s passing I caught myself being more emotional over the elementary school shootings than her loss. I am not upset or numb or in disbelief. It is more akin to "disinterest". My mom passed away today and I don't seem to care about it. Maybe the emotions will come crashing in upon me later and you can feel the sense of loss in my words. Maybe some day I will find those word. Several years ago when my wife's beloved poodle died, I learnt the definition of "weep" for I never cried so deeply for someone before, not even for my father. I feel "emotionless" at Brenda's death, does this make me a bad person? or just a distant one?
I spoke with my sister, Cindy again on the phone. Hysterical, overly emotional, crying and repeatedly; yet, it was all very appropriate. She lived with "mom" and saw her die, and actually started CPR before EMT arrived. Was a caregiver and sitting 24-7. After the 2 hour phone conversation I had her calm and rational again. She's handling everything, and the focus is overwhelming. By the end of the conversation she was able to articulate and plan things in a way that can begin her closure and a new journey, as difficult as it will be dealing with such a deep loss of personality from her daily existence.
We talked. I had purposely estranged myself from her and manned up in telling her so and why. We both now have closure and a real beginning in our renewed relationship can begin. I told my sister she could write me again with all the gory details of her "poor pitiful me of a life" but I did not wish to hear it repeated over the phone as I enjoyed my own drama (LOL) without adding hers into the mix.
I told her she was a major source of my deep depression but now was the time to reinvent ourselves anew. Happy New Year, 2013. "Did" and "do" begin with the letter "D" but are vastly different creatures altogether. I told her we can not undo or go back but that we can change the here and now and create better memories among ourselves. I did this same thing with brother and things have manifested beautifully.
Cindy is growing. We all are. Death is a Life changer. Some say I think of Death and Dying too much. I say... THE WHEEL TURNS. . . everything is going to be alright now, there is "balance in the Force" I'm good now, finally.
I do miss them, very much; but we can only go forward in time that is given us.
What makes this picture so difficult for me to look at is knowing their time is over. Kind of like when Jack returns to the Titanic. I can't believe they both really are gone. The lonely moments stretch out into the harsh acceptance that I no longer have living parents. I am the youngest of their joint three children. But hope is not lost for they had two beautiful grandchildren and wonderful great-grand ones who shine even brighter. I am blessed; I know my parents were proud of me (they told me so). but it still hurts all the same... Bye "mom" you were loved.
After my Dad and Brenda married in a Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses they came and got us out of Buckner's One of my earliest childhood memories is waking up in the dark, in the front seat of the car looking up into Brenda's face asking, "Are you going to be my new mommy now?" Which she replied, "If you want me to be." "Okay." I said then drifted off to sleep again. I really was "the red-headed step child."
With Brenda as my "mom", (I never knew my mother for Linda was in a Huntsville prison I met her in 1979; another story altogether); things seemed different.
I was raised as one of Jehovah's Witness. I always thought of it as a "normal" childhood - like everyone else. As the years passed and I grew, I realized I was different on so many levels. Yet my differences would not make me bitter but into a more empathetic adult. As a Jehovah's Witness we were not allowed to "do anything". That's hard for a kid. I remember standing just out side of the classroom during morning prayers or saluting of the Flag at school, not going to football games; getting off the Track and Field Team in Junior High School like I wanted because it was an "evil competitive Worldly sport". I recall many many times how "Jehovah disliked little boys who did 'such-n-such'. Masturbation would have had me stoned just outside the city limits had I lived in the Biblical era, I was repeatedly told! Never knew what that was; but my older brother was "leaning in that direction". When I could not understand something like a math problem or Bible verse I was constantly asked if I was retarded or just plain stupid. I have heard a constant ringing in my ears ever since I could remember, ear infections and slaps up-side-the-head were my childhood normal. I knew my parents loved me because they always told me how hard it was for them to discipline such a wicked but loved child who couldn't get things done right. I do not remember when I stopped wetting to bed, early teens I believe. My brother, sister and I were "loved" just not in the same room together. There was always yelling, strife and contention. Some "drama" played out on a nightly bases. Our Brady Bunch family was nothing like the TV version of the merged unit. Ours was the example of dysfunction and disguise. No one ever knew the perfect family Jehovah provided me in my youth.
Brenda passed away from complications resulting from Emphysema. I had not spoken to her since the divorce from my father in 1991 or so. Only recently, after 22 years had my (step) sister, Cindy and I begun corresponding via handwritten letters, e-mail, and a few verbal phone calls was I actually able to hear Brenda's aged and chronically ill voice. My reaction was - disinterest. I know some will think me callous and cold, but when you have had such a disconnected upbringing and "disinterest" how else should I have reacted to such dismissal of "normalites of life"
Upon hearing the news of my "mom"'s passing I caught myself being more emotional over the elementary school shootings than her loss. I am not upset or numb or in disbelief. It is more akin to "disinterest". My mom passed away today and I don't seem to care about it. Maybe the emotions will come crashing in upon me later and you can feel the sense of loss in my words. Maybe some day I will find those word. Several years ago when my wife's beloved poodle died, I learnt the definition of "weep" for I never cried so deeply for someone before, not even for my father. I feel "emotionless" at Brenda's death, does this make me a bad person? or just a distant one?
I spoke with my sister, Cindy again on the phone. Hysterical, overly emotional, crying and repeatedly; yet, it was all very appropriate. She lived with "mom" and saw her die, and actually started CPR before EMT arrived. Was a caregiver and sitting 24-7. After the 2 hour phone conversation I had her calm and rational again. She's handling everything, and the focus is overwhelming. By the end of the conversation she was able to articulate and plan things in a way that can begin her closure and a new journey, as difficult as it will be dealing with such a deep loss of personality from her daily existence.
We talked. I had purposely estranged myself from her and manned up in telling her so and why. We both now have closure and a real beginning in our renewed relationship can begin. I told my sister she could write me again with all the gory details of her "poor pitiful me of a life" but I did not wish to hear it repeated over the phone as I enjoyed my own drama (LOL) without adding hers into the mix.
I told her she was a major source of my deep depression but now was the time to reinvent ourselves anew. Happy New Year, 2013. "Did" and "do" begin with the letter "D" but are vastly different creatures altogether. I told her we can not undo or go back but that we can change the here and now and create better memories among ourselves. I did this same thing with brother and things have manifested beautifully.
Cindy is growing. We all are. Death is a Life changer. Some say I think of Death and Dying too much. I say... THE WHEEL TURNS. . . everything is going to be alright now, there is "balance in the Force" I'm good now, finally.
The Best of my Parents as I remember them. There was joy, and character worth emulating. They must have done some things right, look at my daughter - She turned out wonderful, with beautiful children of her own, so I guess we did alright to. The Wheel Turns.
What makes this picture so difficult for me to look at is knowing their time is over. Kind of like when Jack returns to the Titanic. I can't believe they both really are gone. The lonely moments stretch out into the harsh acceptance that I no longer have living parents. I am the youngest of their joint three children. But hope is not lost for they had two beautiful grandchildren and wonderful great-grand ones who shine even brighter. I am blessed; I know my parents were proud of me (they told me so). but it still hurts all the same... Bye "mom" you were loved.
My beautiful God-Daughter!
I was adopted by a wonderful family in the Philippines and made godfather of their beautiful new baby girl.
iScroll - 2.0
I had to stayover a 16 hour shift at work one night and sat with a client in a dimly lit room. I sketched out this drawing of a idea I have for a story I am currently working on, called THE CURE. A character is looking at his futuristic computer device and I wanted it to be different than 'today's tech.'
"....Brycin Doyle was looking at headline news of the morning on his holographic-device while waiting for his Mocha cappuccino to arrive. The Spring breeze that blew lightly across his table on the sidewalk patio was a welcomed warmth after such a harsh Texas winter."
Sick
I've been sick for the past few days with a head cold, not quiet the flu but not that grand either. Started working on a new novel: THE CURE. Would really like to look into finishing this one and actually getting it published.
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WORD A DAY: exordium
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Word of the Day for Tuesday, January 1, 2013
exordium \ig-ZAWR-dee-uhm\, noun:
1. The beginning of anything.
2. The introductory part of an oration, treatise, etc. As for your beginning and exordium, I no longer remember it, nor consequently the middle; and as for your conclusion, I will do nothing of the sort. In commencing, with the New Year, a New Volume, we shall be permitted to say a very few words by way of exordium to our usual chapter of Reviews, or, as we should prefer calling them, of Critical Notices.
Exordium stems from the Latin root ōrd meaning "to begin." The prefix ex- in this case means "utterly," and the suffix -ium which is often found on nouns borrowed from Latin, such as delirium and tedium.
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