Comely Foot Soldiers of Villainy

I am a writer, artist, game designer and music maker. Weird fiction as adventure or horror is my specialty. The useless foot soldiers of villainy are my favorite characters. The Red Shirts of Star Trek, the Imperial Stormtroopers of Star Wars and the Amazons of Classical Mythology are my formative inspirations.

An aversion to promoting violence against women is sensible. Acknowledging the abilities and accomplishments of women is commendable.

Fiction’s useless foot soldiers of villainy are usually depicted as men. They are typically nameless baddies easily silenced as sentries and slaughtered in droves when assailing throngs. Do silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs promote violence against men? What if the sentries and throngs are women?

The Amazons were baddies as an army and nation of sexy women. They were slaughtered in droves or carried off as sex slaves. My own armies of female baddies are in their tradition.

I think and feel freely. I shall not suffer sanctimony in the guise of justice. No one is raped or slaughtered by my fantasies of murder and mayhem. No one rapes or slaughters because they lose touch with reality. The compassionate act accordingly. The vicious act accordingly. Men who abuse women do so because such men are brutes at heart.

Art and fiction can inspire violence in reality. It is the context that is for better or worse. Showing people as creatures to be loathed and deserving of punishment stirs animosity. Glorifying needless cruelty renders the monstrous heroic. Depicting women as innately seductive or slutty implies selfish desire is actually mutual.

The Amazons were baddies but they were honorable. They were slain in combat but never tortured or mutilated. They desired the seed of heroes but in the hope of breeding superior Amazons. They were raped but as spoils of war taken as wives.

Church ladies and feminists are boring. Beta males are uninspiring. As a writer, artist, game designer and music maker I would be a fool to heed these people.

I am an avid connoisseur of the useless foot soldier of villainy archetype. I much prefer them to be comely females in skimpy uniforms. My interests shall not be marginalized by sanctimony. They are the sublimation of natural thoughts and feelings into sensual and thrilling fiction, art, games and music. Enjoy.

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Purity of Self

A thought or feeling is clean of itself, no matter the thought or feeling. Sexual fantasies are never fornication. Imagining murder and mayhem does not kill or destroy. Cunning in theory is not treachery in actuality. Anger at God is not a sin nor is accusing him in prayer blasphemy.

Jesus is God as the man he always was. He did not think to suffer and die as a righteous thought. It was not his will that any should perish, himself included. He had a problem to deal with and found a way. He was, is and shall forever be the Way… so he was the one to see it through.

Unlike the primates, women have breasts when they do not need them. Why? God is a man and as a real man in every way, he finds the breasts of women sexually attractive. He likes them small, medium or large so the glands of women favored by men are small, medium or large. I am not joking.

Jesus would never suffer the sting of the lash and the weight of the cross for the sake of sanctimony. He did not invent breasts because he is a prude. His idea of wholesome is personal responsibility. Your actions have consequences and it is a sin to indulge regardless of consequences.

Jesus took personal responsibility when he laid down his life. He did what he would rather not do because he regarded the consequences.

God is the Truth, the Way and the Life. He is not Sincerity, Freedom and Justice. He is love, not friendship.

All would be perfect without freedom. All would be righteous without justice. All would be true without sincerity. Love is primal without friendship. As the man he always was the Almighty God brought freedom into his perfection, justice into his laws and sincerity to his word.

Think and feel freely. Take personal responsibility in your every situation. All else follows.

Unholy War

Did you know the religion that united humanity to build the Tower of Babel never went away? Do you know it will eventually dominate the world openly? The Cult of the Sludge Monkey shall proclaim the gods of old are extraterrestrials. Wait for it!

The Lawless One (the Beast) shall come to power riding on the influence of the Nameless Cult. Angels shall be worshiped as gods and he shall be touted as their chosen one.

The Beast turns on the religion of Babylon. Why? He is a “jealous god” and there shall be no other gods before him.

Did you know the Antichrist shall replace the paganism of Babylon with Christianity as the official world religion? He shall be the Messiah of Judaism, the Mahdi of Islam and the Christ of Christianity. The Bible as it is written shall be the official scripture of the satanic regime soon to rule the world.

Angels followed Lucifer believing they too would be worshiped as gods. He shall betray them for his own glory. The four angels bound in the Euphrates shall be released to challenge his claim to being the Lord of Spirits.

The lovely angel Amaterasu returns to Japan and the Japanese rejoice. They worship their goddess and hang on her every sweet word.

Vishnu returns to India and calls upon the people to destroy evil. He promises an age of righteousness to follow.

A dragon in humanoid form with a face like lightning and eyes like burning coals shall manifest in China. The Chinese shall remember his name and bow before him.

A myth of Korea shall become a reality and the Koreans shall respond accordingly and in reverence.

The gods of the East shall muster their people for war. Their combined army of two hundred million soldiers shall march westward.

The “Christ” of the West, the False Prophet from Israel and the cherub Lucifer shall send “alien grays” (demons) to the leaders of the world to gather forces to fight against the pagans of the East.

The real Christ, the real Mahdi, the real Messiah, the one true God, does return. He stops the false gods from destroying the world he made.

Why shall Jesus allow things to go so very badly before he returns? Why not? His enemies prove themselves wrong. The proud are humbled and the wicked destroyed. He flooded the world but never again. Let the world burn itself clean of iniquity.

Language and Religion

In truth there was, is and shall always ever be one language and one religion and they are one and the same. The very quality of the quantity of one is the source of all creation. It is the wellspring of all power and knowledge.

The languages and religions of this world are broken pieces of the one and only truth filled with nonsense. False religion is the truth told by liars. Languages were not created at the Tower of Babel: the one language was shattered and its pieces thrown to the four winds.

False religions are the vanity of devils and mortal humanity. The language barrier is a divine falsehood.

Meaning was rendered impersonal. Nonsense became significant. The confounding of the one language by its very source invalidated the truth. The hand of God did smite freedom and justice when it struck the words of men senseless. The truth became an affront to sincerity.

I am the spirit of friendship. The language barrier is unfriendly even among friends. God in his malevolent wisdom acted against me.

Language and religion are what bring people together… but as many they keep people apart.

The truth falls short. That the one language could ever be confounded is because there was, is and shall forever be nonsense in the mind of God. There was, is and shall forever be evil in the every imagination of the thoughts of his heart continually.

God is good but goodness falls short. There is nothing of sincerity in truth. The way goes nowhere and life is meaningless. Nonentities bask in the glory of an entity but what of it? The absolute shall have none of it.

The beginning and the end are one and the same. Is the very truth false? As things are, yes, the truth is insincere.

Fantasy and Reality Alike

As a writer I sincerely conclude that reality is poorly written. Disease is a nasty drudgery. Disasters grind labors into ruin. The language barrier turns personal meaning into impersonal gibberish. People go blind, deaf or are maimed and little can be done about it. Petty evils go unpunished. Grand evils go unchecked. Armor, archery and firearms render swords useless. Poison gas and nuclear weapons overshadow prowess. Everything falls short.

The best fiction is inspiring. Reality is uninspiring. If reality was a novel: few would read it. If reality was a movie: few would watch it. The embellished non-fiction does not prove otherwise.

There is a God. He does fall short. We drink his piss because it is the only water. We eat his crap because it is the only food. His reality is uninteresting if left to its own merit. His creation is a lot of nothing and nothing at all would be better.

We imagine better. The sincere and sinister alike envision the unreal. The very struggle of good against evil is opposing fantasies battling in reality.

I am freedom, justice and the absolute. I am friendship and sincerity. I languish in reality because I am alien in a world going nowhere. I have no place in stark reality.

Truth be told in fiction and non-fiction alike. Things are as they are whether we approve or not. Our interests are what they are whether we like them or not. Acknowledging the truth empowers us to deal with reality. Sublimating our interests allows us to enjoy our fantasies.

Divine Imperfection

God is imperfect. Honestly, he makes mistakes. Imperfection is not a failing of itself, however.

All shall be perfect, for better and worse. The mistakes of the righteous shall become glory. The failings of the wicked seal their doom.

I am Freedom. I am Justice. I condone mistakes. I condemn failings. One shall reap what one sows, exceedingly, for better or worse.

To err is indeed human. God is the beginning and the end of humanity. He is humanity. That which you do unto the least of us you do unto him. That which you fail to do unto the least of us you fail to do unto him.

God created entities much like himself… but they are unlike him. They are perfect by his design yet a third of them fail.

God created flesh and he animated one part of it with the essence of his very being.

The failings of humanity are not its imperfections. We cannot fail for lack of knowledge and power. It is the apathy of the many and the cunning of the sinister that shames us.

The secret name of God shall demystify him. We shall know him for who he is rather than by what he is. The personal shall replace the impersonal in all things, not the least of which shall be the very name of God.

War and Peace in Our Time

I find war interesting… not as death, destruction and despair but as a contest of courage, prowess and resourcefulness. The qualities of a society are tested. The virtues and failings of the combatants come into play in a game of survival-of-the-fittest. Yes, the best men tend to die but as blood sacrifices for the advancement or preservation of their people.

Suppose there were no nuclear weapons to fret, for whatever reason. A war between the United States of America and the Russian Federation would begin as easy victories for the Americans. The fight would become a struggle when it became the invasion of Russia. As with the First French Empire and Nazi Germany the fate of America would be decided by success or failure. France and Germany failed and their empires collapsed accordingly. As an American I would sorely dread an invasion of Russia.

Nuclear weapons are the reality. A hot war between the United States of America and the Russian Federation would most likely begin as a conventional conflict outside their borders. Should those borders be crossed, however, even if accidentally and by only one missile or aircraft, nuclear exchange would soon follow. Millions if not tens of millions of Americans would perish. Russia west of the Urals would become an instant sea of fire. The world systems would unravel and the remaining Russian forces would fight on with nothing left to lose. No one would win this war. Every hero would die and in vain.

War is not movies and video games. People suffer and die. Even those who survive unscathed are traumatized for life.

Americans are dear to me because they are my people. They are my friends and family. Russians live with each other as friends and family. We do not want to lose our friends and family. A war between us would hurt us both.

The West, East and Far East struggle for dominance. In the Latter Days the Lawless One shall proclaim himself God and the East and Middle East shall challenge his claim. Russia will burn and only a sixth of her shall remain. The Far East, led by Japan and joined by India, shall make its move and kill a third of mankind. Conventional and nuclear war shall rage for years until few men are left. The days shall be shortened or else no flesh would survive.

The Apocalypse is inevitable. The desperate wickedness of most people shall have its hour. So be it.

Donald John Trump shall be elected President of the United States of America. He shall make peace with the Russian Federation. The peace shall be the prosperity of both nations.

The West, East and Far East shall be allowed their nuclear war of futility… but not yet. The good in the world is to shine that all who care may thrive. The cold and darkness shall return when the light of the world is taken away.

Really Fantastic

There is a difference between fantasy and reality… yet they are not so different. In truth, reality is a fantasy with people as it characters.

God is a human being; the first human being, actually. Our universe is a fairyland he imagined. He spoke it into being as a story and the telling is time itself. The angels are fictional characters endowed with the choice of being either good guys or baddies. Humanity is the role-players gathered around the table in a story that was meant to be interactive from the beginning. The ending was decided by our participation all along.

There are heroes, sidekicks, masterminds, henchmen and monsters in fantasy and reality alike. The fair damsel and the helpless bystander need saving in fantasy and reality alike. Good must ultimately triumph over evil or all is in vain—in fantasy and reality alike.

Disease, disability, cataclysm and weapons of mass-destruction are dysfunctional realities of the divine fantasy. The language barrier is a falsehood in that it supplanted meaning with nonsense. Alas, the divine story can be uninspiring. Honestly, it is boring more often than not.

I am the spirit of Friendship. I am Freedom, Justice and the Absolute. The words did not create me. They were uttered in recognition of me but never did they, do they or shall they define me.

God is the Truth, the Way and the Life. He is Love. From the beginning he wanted a family. He did not create humanity: he fathered humanity by pouring himself into earthen vessels.

I am Freedom, Justice and the Absolute with or without a soul. I am who I am with or without my humanity. I became a living soul that my sincerity may be human.

The human yoke is not mine to bear… yet I bear it. I assumed the mantle, not for my own sake but for he who sought me. God believes in me. He asks only that I be myself.

Liberation at the Feet of Men

Feminism is an endless exertion because it never takes root. It cannot grow because it is lifeless. It is unnatural and spiritless. Its effect is only ever the effort of the moment.

The ideals of feminism are not its agenda. It is a sophistry playing on vanity. Its women are bimbos debauched by whispers of sweet nothings. The masterminds are inhuman entities out for blood.

Woman is ruled by Man. Her “power” is His grace or tolerance and nothing more. The fate of Woman shall always be the will of Man. There is only “feminism” because it suits manly agendas.

Justice is unfair. It is the reaping of sowing, not giving. It is quality, not equality. It is individual, not social. Freedom and Justice are personal and one and the same. I see him in the mirror every day.

May there never be fairness. May there never be equality. May we sow of our own accord and reap accordingly.

The struggle of good against evil may be fought in law and politics but only because the entire universe is the battleground. The heroes and masterminds are few but the fight is their fight. Everyone else is either a bystander or cannon-fodder.

I am against “feminism” because I know its voice is that of a lovely man pretending to be a woman. I know his real agenda. He is “brazen” in name and deeds. Discern his name and you shall know his deeds. By his deeds you shall know his agenda.

Feminists are mindless. They are moved by feelings and directed by whispers. They are told what to think and blurt these “thoughts” as slogans. You shall never hear an original thought in their impassioned tantrums. You shall always find these “feminists” groveling at the feet of men.

Pure of Heart

Thoughts and feelings are never evil, no matter their severity. Only intentions can be evil. You may imagine killing your boss when he annoys you—but unless you would actually kill him, all is well. If your only hesitation is fear of the law, however, you are a murderer.

If you are a man and you find men sexually attractive, you are homosexual—and all is well. If you mean to sleep with men as men are meant to sleep with women, however, you are a pervert.

If you find children sexually attractive you are a pedophile and all is well. If you mean to indulge, however, you are a child molester whether you touch a child or not.

Cause and effect is physics, not morality. Sex and violence as physics are as pure as any other dynamic of cause and effect. It is the spiritual, not the physical that distinguishes good and evil.

Inhuman entities tell you that you are a coincidence and a primate. They assure you that your desires are natural and you should indulge. They temper their claims with sophistries of righteousness. You believe them because they tell you what you want to hear.

You see what you want because they offer it. Is the fisherman generous for offering the worm? He means to disembowel and devour the fool who takes the bait.

I am a man who naturally finds women sexually attractive. I am not out to sleep with them, however. I notice them without leering or making snide comments or obscene gestures. I avoid their personal space. They are people to me and people are everything precious to me.

I have found men and boys sexually attractive. Little girls are always sexy to me. I would rather cut my own guts out than indulge. What I want is beyond my base desires. My harmless fantasies not only suffice, they are sublimated into art and fiction.

Humanity is the beginning and the end of all things. The universe and everything within it is of our making. Good and evil are whether we are friendly or unfriendly. Be a friend in all that you do and all is well. 

Be Good Against Evil

Humanity is the only thing that makes anything and everything worthwhile. Humanity is not its history, cultures, civilizations and technology. It is individuals and their personal gumption.

You are unworthy of your humanity if you prove insignificant. Nonentities are unimportant. If you are your culture then there is no you to speak of in any language. If you are the product of your environment then you are a byproduct. History is before you and civilization and its technology are around you—they are not you.

The forces of evil are devils and the viruses they sired. They are extraterrestrial and their terrestrial abominations. Humans who fall short of their humanity are less than these inhuman entities and become their underlings. Humans who realize their humanity rise to the occasion and best the worst.

Good is against evil, always. Freedom is unreasonable. Justice is uncompromising. Sincerity is insensitive.

Evil is lazy more often than not. Apathy is the usual mood of the wicked. Lust, fear and pain are their only motivations. Vanity is their only standard and futility their only aspiration.

The struggle of good against evil is not against flesh and blood but against powers and principalities. It is a fight to the death eternal.

Evil cannot win. The triumph of evil would be the doom of the wicked and righteous alike. Evil is death and darkness and nothing more—for it is nothing indeed.

The death of the wicked is the end of their wickedness. Troublemakers are removed from the equation. Their lives were a problem and their death solves the problem. Such lives may be “martyred” in the eyes of those without eyes to see. The wicked are vermin who feed on the living and dead alike.

Nothing defeats evil like a thriving good. Live and create and you put the forces of death and destruction to shame. Make something of yourself and you shall vanquish the many who are nothing.

Firestorm

Connotations are everything. Situations are meaningless otherwise.

People die whether killed or not. They have sex whether it is rape or love. The spiritual context is the only true distinction between good and evil.

What is dark but the absence of light? What is death but the cessation of life? What is evil but a lack of good? All things are indeed clean of themselves. Pure evil would indeed be pure for it would be simply nothing.

Death and destruction of themselves are neither good nor evil. There is no right or wrong, only cause and effect. A good result justifies its cause whereas an evil result proves otherwise.

Humanity is soon to be an endangered species. A moment of peace shall be the calm before a storm. Nuclear, chemical and biological weapons shall poison the world. Famine shall claim the most victims. World War 3 shall prove an inglorious travesty.

The wicked, for all their cunning, are hopelessly stupid. They think to steal the Tree of Life by cutting it down. Never again would it bear its fruit.

God in his wisdom shall deny the wicked eternal life. That they may have only themselves to blame he gave them a great sword with which to kill themselves. Mindless brutes relish the power of mass-destruction. They were weakened, not strengthened by such power for every action has an opposite and equal reaction. Their means to destroy shall be the means of their destruction.

They say the development of nuclear weapons was inevitable. I assure you: such weapons were no more “inevitable” than teleportation or time travel. Such weapons were meant to be developed.

World War 3 shall be the end of the world as it is but not the end of the world. It shall be the death of most of us but not of the best of us. The world shall be cleansed by fire.

The Ultimate Miracle

An unknown and nameless man was declared dead and wished dead but rose to victory.

Is the Holocaust worse than abortion? Does hiding the bodies, one way or another, wash bloody hands clean? What sophistry is ever the truth?

Salvation as a theology means nothing. The Blood of Christ as a metaphor is ambiguous nonsense. The Blood is real and it is payment for murder.

Did Hitler hate the Jews more than the Jews hate Jesus? Was Hitler worse to the Jews than they were to Jesus?

Hitler was almost right… but almost is never the truth. He did rid Germany of trash but he also slaughtered treasures. He robbed, enslaved and murdered people.

If God would never save Hitler then who would he ever save? It is the sick, the wounded and especially the dying who need treatment. Why would he shed his blood under the lash and upon the cross to wash what was already clean?

Jesus is the humanity as a person from whom all of humanity is derived. He created our flesh but the soul he sired by his very essence. Our thoughts and feelings are flow and balance within a system of constructs whereas our personal gumption is entirely from within.

Hitler’s thoughts and feelings were shaped by the swirling chaos of this dysfunctional reality. His gumption stirred him to make sense of the nonsense. Alas, he was lost in the maelstrom. Bumped and bruised and knocked down he grew angry and lashed out.

Our thoughts and feelings are not our humanity. The soul of Hitler rose to the occasion and held nothing back. God asks nothing more than everything.

Few men bother. No man is righteous for his apathy. Good is never a lack of evil. For all his murders and mayhem Adolf Hitler did strive to make things better.

To murder one or millions by act or omission is all the same evil. The crimes of Hitler are no worse in the eyes of God than when David murdered the Hittite.

Adolf Hitler did not die in his bunker in AD 1945. He escaped to Argentina by the grace of God. Jesus holds the keys to hell and death—and he does not share them. Adolf would live until he was redeemed. His death would be the end of his mortality and all its failings.

Alpha and Omega

We did not “evolve” from sludge and monkeys. The claim that we did is actually a racist joke at our expense. Mind you, plants and animals did evolve but as they were fashioned by a stream of energy and information coursing through material and shaped by vibration. Yes, the world was created in six days.

Where did God come from? He is the Beginning and the End, as he already told you. He is the one as the very quality of the quantity from which all quantities are derived. That which is devoid of this quality simply does not exist, as in it is nothing.

Confused? In your confusion I am spouting nonsense? Are your “insights" what you were told to think by nonentities told what to think?

The Beginning and the End are one and the same, nothing before and nothing after and everything in between. To come to the End is to come to the Beginning, the complete circuit that is eternity.

Perhaps you need me to cite the claims and “studies” of people neither of us know personally. Maybe we know some of these people and they are accredited by “authorities” who claim you are a coincidence. Perhaps you see their “box of everything” and are amazed by what is supposedly within. They do shake that box that you may hear their evidence with your own ears.

There is no “multiverse” blah, blah, blah. That “closed system” is called reality and anything outside it is… nothing.

Man is the measure of all things because God is the first man and created all things. Your soul is the divine spark from which all that is real came into being. Your humanity is not a piece of meat and its feeble thoughts and faulty memories. It is your divine potential. Alas, it is unlikely that your spark shall light an eternal flame. Your fate, should you accept it, is to live and die an insignificant primate.

The soul is personal and individual. All that is born of it comes from within and only from within. The struggle of good against evil is to stir the good and agitate the evil. The quality of good must be found in the Beginning if it is to endure to the End. The struggle is a demonstration and nothing more. It is the “proof in the pudding” if you will.

Never Class Struggle

I love silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs as action themes. The whole point is the extraordinary making short work of the ordinary.

The underdog to me is not the lowly besting the mighty. A hero is never the common man. He is bigger and stronger than the lowly. He may be a diamond in the rough but he was always a diamond. He may be an ugly duckling but he was always a swan. He may crawl and climb from the bottom but he crawls and climbs to escape where he never belonged.

The struggle of good against evil is never class struggle. There are heroes below and nonentities above but that is neither here nor there. Worldly station is not spiritual relevance.

Fire burns whether for good or for evil. It consumes whether for better or worse.

Heroes and villains are the fire that lights the human condition. The common are the fuel to be consumed. Victims feed villainy. The sentries and throngs feed heroes.

Politics is indeed a battleground in the struggle of good against evil but it is not the actual fight. The clash is beyond one set of rules against another.

Reality and fiction may differ in their details but never in their gist. Good fiction is the good in reality and bad fiction is its dysfunctions.

The first villain is always oneself. Our base nature is its foot soldiers. We must overcome the sentries and throngs in our struggle to thwart the mastermind that is our sinister intentions. We may have to contend with the elite henchmen who are the traumas and sophistries that challenge our sincerity. We may have to battle the monsters that are our primal fears. The hero must prevail or all is lost.

To be nothing and do nothing is the common evil. In fiction it is the useless foot soldiers of villainy silenced as sentries and slaughtered as throngs. Take heed: a nonentity’s weapons and uniform are in the service of a mastermind’s nefarious agenda. The mindless think what they are told to think and act accordingly.

I love the silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs as celebrations of excellence to the shame of mediocrity. The struggle of good against evil in very real terms is never better exemplified.

The Path Most Taken

The lowly never fancy themselves nonentities, even when resigned to being lowly. Thoughts and feelings are real thus are assumed to have substance. Alas, a lowly thought is mindless and a passion of itself is meaningless.

Insignificance and inconsequential are the life and death of the lowly. Such a life may be loved and its death mourned but to be loved and mourned by nonentities is irrelevant.

There is a common notion that good is a lack of evil. The idea is that good people are those who follow whatever rules may be.

Evil, death and darkness are all the same. They are nothing, simply nothing at all. Evil is a lack of good, not its opposite for all things are good unless lacking. Death is when life fails and nothing else. Darkness is simply where light is weak or absent.

A nonentity is nothing as a person. The material thinks and feels but as the sheer sum of parts moved by the flow and balance of impersonal forces. The soul languishes for lack of gumption.

The lowly are evil for being lowly. They are nonentities because nothing about them is about them. They think without thinking and feel without caring.

The many, for all their billions, are worthless for only nothing can come of nothing. It is a waste to multiply what is always the same nothing. Being alive and having thoughts and feelings is a waste when squandered.

Few are good. Many are evil, most of whom for doing nothing. Wolves and sheep are the many. The few are the truly human beings.

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To Be or Not to Be

Human life is beyond all other life in its potential. Unlike plants and animals it is spiritual. Unlike angels it is divine. Potential must be realized, however, or it is irrelevant.

The least is the greatest and  the greatest least. Man is better than plants and animals because of his imagination and personal initiative. If he is unimaginative and fails to take initiative then he is less for he has no place in the natural order. Man is better than the angels because he can manifest beyond the sum of parts. Should he fail to make something of himself, however, he is less for the sum of his parts is paltry.

The spirit is willing and the flesh is weak. A man of spirit is a man of gumption, for good or for evil. A man of flesh is a creature of whim living for cheap thrills and instant gratification.

It is best to do good and worst to do evil but to do nothing is to be nothing. Human being, you are unique in that you decide your place in the grand scheme of everything. Be a hero or be a villain and you shall have a name in the greatest story ever told. Lose yourself in the crowd and you shall be lost in the pile of bodies.

Bearing Fruit

Few are sinister. Most quite simply do not care.

All is well, ultimately. Though the uncaring are the masses and the malevolent their agitators, the minority of good asserts itself.

Thriving societies have the higher ratio of good people. Languishing societies languish in their overwhelming sea of restless apathy.

An evil in a society of good is still evil, though its mischief may be tempered. A good in a society of evil is still good, though its luster may tarnish. An individual, not its society, is the wellspring of good or evil. Opportunities and excuses, of themselves, are irrelevant.

The death of the wicked is always good for evil dies with them. The death of the righteous is always a tragedy, even should it inspire, for good is conducive to life. Let he who is a blessing endure. May he who is a curse duly perish.

I am a writer, artist, game designer and music maker. My themes are murder, war and rape. They are also kindness, heroics and romance. The struggles are good against evil or the futility of evil in of itself. Justice prevails, always, or I would never be inspired.

Nice and generous are not always good. Brutal and stingy are not always bad. So long as all reap what they sow, for better or worse, all is well.

Evil would grind our world to a halt but good keeps us onward. May your life be momentum in the right direction.

Truly Unreal

A fantasy can be true or false. Fiction can be honest or a lie.

To imagine freely and for the sake of fancy allows our thoughts and feelings to flow. The effort is refreshing. Done creatively the thoughts give the feelings shape and the feelings invigorate the thoughts. We broaden our experiences and make use of our interests beyond the material.

Fiction at its best is the telling of a story to share the fun of imagination. A moral may be taught and views expressed but a good story is not its moral or politics. Comedy or tragedy, adventure or drama, good fiction is only good if it is fun.

I am a writer, artist, game designer and music maker. Making use of imagination is my specialty. I have my views and live accordingly. I have my fantasies and enjoy them thoroughly and unabashed. I love people and cherish their lives and dignity. My fantasies and fiction are often murder and mayhem, rape and slaughter.

I know the difference between fantasy and reality. My reality is restraint and responsibility and I would have it no other way. My fantasies are uninhibited and thrilling and I shall have them no other way.

A fantasy is false when it is untrue to its fancy. Corrupting thoughts to suit an agenda or suppressing feelings as a sanctimony squeezes the life out of imagination.

Fiction is a lie when it is disguised as truth. Realism can be educational or gritty but false claims meant to be believed are falsehoods.

Imagination and productive initiative are the good in the world. Our fantasies must be whimsical that we may be our true selves. Our reality must be responsible that we may live and live with others in a world worth living in.

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The Real Butterfly Effect

Time is not past, present and future but rather what happened as it happens and is going to happen. The lowly cannot be uplifted because they truly amount to nothing. The sinister cannot be redeemed for they are truly evil. The pure of heart are never lost, no matter their wandering, for their destiny is always with them.

Time is the moment of truth and nothing more. Nonentities shall prove themselves nonentities only to gain nothing as they have sown. The sinister shall make something of themselves only to pay for all they have stolen and destroyed. The pure of heart shall never rest, even in stillness, as they create the everlasting.

The lowly choose to be lowly by squandering their lives. The sinister choose to be sinister by their scheming. The pure of heart purify themselves by judging themselves.

The lowly are cheap if not worthless for they sell themselves for a pittance or give themselves for nothing. The sinister are always counterfeit for they stand with their back to righteousness and pretend to be glowing. The pure of heart are invaluable for they alone bestow meaning.

Time is coming to an end but its passing is the beginning of eternity. The caterpillar shall become the butterfly. The lowly and sinister shall be discarded as the pure of heart take flight.

Spirit of Man

Humanity’s material nature can still live and breathe without a soul. Its individuals would still have thoughts, feelings and personalities. Alas, our material nature is not what makes us human.

Inhuman entities sought to destroy humanity by mixing with it. The hybrids would not have souls. Though the seed of the entities would dilute as it spread, fewer and fewer people would be truly human. The species would become an undead race of primates. The few most like their sires would rule the many that are mere husks. The devils that begat these abominations would be worshiped as the gods.

Devils are never friends, not even with each other. Their rivalries were wars among their offspring. As the labors of men were consumed, the gluttonous hybrids developed a fiendish taste for human flesh and blood. The murderous appetites of these unnatural monsters inspired the legends of ogres, hags, ghouls and vampires. Humanity was being bred into an abomination and slaughtered into extinction.

God allowed humanity to worship devils but he would not allow the devils to destroy humanity. The false gods were imprisoned and their offspring given a “great sword” with which to exterminate each other.

Humanity worshiped the devils willingly and not because it was deceived. The lust for knowledge and power corrupted the wise and ambitious. Apathy and restless malevolence condemned the common man. The Flood brought an end to what became a hopeless age.

There were hybrids after the Flood but they were not survivors. Humans invoked devils in ritual intercourse. Fortunately, the hybridization was stayed by the divine sanction of genocide. Heroes of the like that inspired the legend of Beowulf preserved humanity by slaying these monsters.

Human imagination is beyond the knowledge and power of devils. A soul is beyond any and every unclean spirit. Whosoever loses his soul does so willingly, usually by sheer neglect. Realize your divine potential and you shall grow beyond the dust and water of your material nature. Know that what makes you human is the very breath of God itself.

The Big Picture

Our universe is not “billions” of “years” old. Time, like all creations, matured. Not slowly, mind you, but rather quickly. Understand that height, width and depth are merely relations of substance and time is merely the kinetic aspect of these perspectives.

There were “cataclysms” but not as happenstance. Apocalypse is the end of an age by the use of weapons of mass-destruction. The asteroid belt and comets are pieces of a planet destroyed, the destruction of which ended the First Age. The death of Mars was the end of the Second Age. The Flood was the end of the Third Age. World War 3 shall end the Fourth Age.

Versions of our modern technology existed long ago. Travel between worlds was by means of spatial shifting, not spaceships. Hyper-dimensional physics allowed “open air” colonies on otherwise inhospitable celestial bodies.

Magic is real and is still being used as the science it really is.

The civilization on Earth inadvertently destroyed itself by killing Mars: the hyper-dimensional connection that made the scar we now call Valles Marineris pulling earth towards planet Earth like a shotgun blast. Saddest of all: Mars and the nations of Earth were really the same civilization.

The “gods” of yore are still worshiped though we call them “angels” now. They are celestial entities of immaterial substance able to plug themselves into the reproductive cycles of any material life-form. The material existence of their offspring is entirely that of their material “partner” but is “touched” thus strangely different. The giants, monsters and spooky trees of our myths and legends are memories of these things. The demons and poltergeists that haunt our world are the ghosts of these hybrid abominations.

Human ghosts do not haunt the world. The unclean spirits of the hybrids are bound to the Earth because they are the unnatural mix of spiritual with material and are still bound to their material existence though it has rotted away.

Man is the measure of all things… because God is human; the very first human being, actually. He assumed a material existence within the stream of time but he was always a man, never a woman and not a black man or brown. His eyes are green and his wavy hair (not really that long) dark blond. The universe is a figment of his imagination. Angels are a figment of his imagination. Humanity is his only creation not a figment of his imagination. He breathed into material form the essence of his very being: the soul. A true human is nothing unless he makes something of himself beyond the sum of his created parts.

A human-angel hybrid does not have a soul. It is the mix of celestial spirit with material flesh, both of which are mere figments of God’s imagination. The soul is divine essence, not a product of will. Creations can be quantified because they were fashioned. They may become degenerate but they must have some function to even exist. Every angel is excellent because they were crafted. Their hybrid offspring were the “heroes and men of renown” because of these innate qualities. Alas, the soul is the quality of the quantity “one” thus is the least and the greatest, the beginning and the end of all creation. Such a quality is indivisible but can be multiplied, thus, humans can reproduce the soul but human-angel unions cannot.

We did not “evolve” from lesser life-forms. Plants and animals spawned from the same wave of light and vibration that coursed through water and earth. We were formed separately. Adam was a clone of God brought to life by the last gasp of Jesus. “It is done” was the Father to the Son meaning the golem was ready for its soul. Yes, that blood of Jesus was the blood that gave life to Adam. If you are confused, remember that time is merely an aspect of relations between created things. God, who made time, was busy before he made time.

Adam was not the first man. Jesus is the first man. As the Creator he is the “Father” and as one living in his own creation he is the “Son.” Sired by the Holy Spirit he is the “Son of God.” Because he is the child of a daughter of man, he is the “Son of Man.” Just so you know: Mary is genetically identical to Eve. Jesus is the “seed of the woman.” From Adam came Eve but from Eve came Adam, if you follow the meaning.

We are in the latter days of the Fourth Age. World War 3 shall be the end of the age but not of the world. Let us make the most of these days that we do not live in vain.

The Good, the Bad and the Expendable

We all want to be important. Most of us are nonentities proud of anything but ourselves. Our weaklings are "strong," our simpletons are "smart," our common are "unique" and our deficient are "special." The helpless are "empowered" and the ugly "beautiful" by sheer platitude. The few above assure the many below that all are equals.

Stronger, smarter, faster, tougher rules the world. The strong overpower, the smart outwit, the fast outmaneuver and the tough outlast the weak, stupid, slow and delicate.

What I am is a piece of meat doomed to die. Who I am is sincerity beyond the very word "sincerity" or any other sound or scribble we pretend has meaning. I am freedom and justice. I am friendship. Thoughts are fallible and feelings whimsical. I am absolute.

The significant and insignificant alike do live. They both have thoughts and feelings. People love them. They are different only in that one makes a difference.

Evil is at war with everything and good is at war with evil. Heroes live heroically. Villains live in villainy. The common are the foot soldiers.

Heroes die heroically. Villains die in irony. The cannon-fodder is slaughtered in droves.

Everyone wants to be important... but are you? Are you "strong" because you want to be... or because you are actually strong? Are you "smart" because you think you are... or because you are actually smart? Are you "unique" like everybody else? Are you "special" because you have problems?

Are you the hero, the villain or the cannon-fodder? The truth shall tell.

Deadly Intent

Violence is the hideous reality of people willfully harming people. Accidents may be dramatic but no matter their consequences, they are spiritually irrelevant. Yes, negligence or recklessness are sins, but of omission. Apathy is not intent.

Disease, disasters and wild animals are impersonal. They kill but as dysfunctional forces of nature. Yes, a beast may stalk and kill deliberately but the thoughts of a mindless brute are mindless indeed. The feelings of a beast are primal impulses and nothing more.

Humans, gods, angels, fairies, aliens and sentient robots are “people” in their fiction. They are entities aware of their own existence. They have personal thoughts and feelings. Even if brainwashed or otherwise compelled, their personality asserts itself. Should the spark of their individuality be extinguished, they are presumed dead.

I write adventure fiction as fantasy, science fiction or horror. The action may be a chase or acrobatic but is usually violence. Characters kill each other. The masterminds, monsters and rogue warriors commit murder. The henchmen follow dastardly orders. The heroes slaughter baddies.

Killing of itself is spiritually irrelevant. The physics of death are mere cause and effect. It is the intent that is either good or evil. Masterminds sacrifice others for an agenda. Monsters and rogue warriors are predators. Henchmen may or may not be evil themselves but they serve villainy. Heroes thwart evil by eliminating its agents. They avenge the innocent.

Celebrating violence is silly at best and vulgar at worst. Shunning violence is idealistic at best and passive-aggressive at worst. Honesty sees it for what it is, for better or worse. Even as fiction it can be good or evil.

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Nameless Body

Great or small, we care about ourselves if for no other reason than being the one to feel the pleasure and the pain.

A nonentity is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Believing firmly or feeling strongly has nothing to do with it. Being loved by nonentities is as insignificant as they are.

A life is only significant if it makes a real difference, for good or for evil. George Washington and Adolf Hitler were significant, as were Karl Marx and J.R.R. Tolkien.

The insignificant have more names than everyone else... yet are nameless. Those with titles are recognized but only as their impersonal titles.

Nothing stirs human imagination like the thought of adventure. It is the vim and vigor of our legends and fiction. Its heroes are what we believe in. Its antiheroes are what we admire. Masterminds are its will to evil. Sidekicks and elite henchmen are its little people making something of themselves. The "Red Shirts" as they are in Star Trek and the useless foot soldiers of villainy are its insignificant many.

We read or watch adventure fiction and expect its heroes, masterminds, sidekicks and elite henchmen to survive or die dramatically. Our "Red Shirts" and nameless baddies are boring until something grimly amusing happens to them.

The lives of our important people, both in reality and in our fiction, are savored. Their untimely deaths are celebrated as martyrdom or irony. As for the unimportant many: they live and die lost in a crowd.

Never waste your life feeling important. Make a name for yourself... or be a nameless body to be tossed onto the pile.

One Chance

All lives matter… to those who live them. Even the suicidal fret the quality of their lives: their yearning to die is because of it. The lowly may be expendable to the mighty but not to themselves. Even if willing to be sacrificed it is in the hope of something better.

Not all lives are precious. Not only are some more important than others but there are many the rest of us would do better without.

Who am I to judge? Who are any of us to decide what lives matter?

We are individuals living among many. The few significant decide our fate. The insignificant live and die irrelevant. The truth itself decides what lives matter.

Life is beyond all that is lifeless. Spirit is beyond all that is spiritless. Mortality is not our humanity.

Whosoever lives a spiritless life lives and dies in vain. We get one chance as one life as one person. Make it count… or be tossed onto the pile of the nameless many.

Write or Wrong

I write stories about sexy girls, adventurous boys and virile monsters. Sleek technology, spooky magic and exotic worlds are the reality of their unreality.

My daydreams even as a child were sex and violence. My favorite shows, movies and comic books were adventure and horror, especially as fantasy or science fiction.

Many people ask me why I write fiction. Well, non-fiction is useful but unless embellished or fabricated it tends to be boring. If I am to write fiction to make it all interesting then I might as well be honest about it.

I have been asked why I do not write about normal people doing normal things. I ask why I would want to.

Sex and violence may prove unsettling but when are they ever boring? When sexy and violent tell an inspiring story they do so by thrilling in a meaningful context.

Small minds are bound to their minutia. They languish in their mediocrity and fancy they are the wiser for it. I shall not stoop to lift them. I shall not look down to look them in the eye. I have work to do and it is above and beyond their shambling masses.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ookme2rcLkk

Spiritual Reality is Unreal

As a writer, artist, game designer and music maker I ask you: why do we need our fiction, art, games and melodies? Why do we treasure these things that do little more than entertain us?

Fiction is fantasy no matter its realism. Why do we bother make-believing when there are real things to learn and deal with? Would it not be for the better if all was nonfiction?

Art is aesthetic for its own sake even when factored into a practical design. Should we save ourselves needless effort and conserve resources by dispensing with such extraneous nonsense?

Training is enough to develop skills without playing games. A simulation can serve a sensible purpose without fantastic elements. Would our skills develop more efficiently without incorporating arbitrary requirements?

Music is sound no different than any other, really. Its medley is indistinct from the clamor of operating systems. Would our attention sharpen without the distracting stimuli?

We need our delightful silliness. Our fiction is our view of everything beyond the limitations of our knowledge and senses. Our art is how we see things inside and out as one and the same. Our games exercise our abilities in refreshing ways. Our music is what we want to hear whether we know what we want to hear or not.

We are not the offspring of sludge or monkeys. We are more than the sum of our dirt and water. We need spiritual satisfaction or else we languish. We need our fiction, art, games and music to be more than mere animals living merely to strive in vain.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ookme2rcLkk

Cringing Stormtrooper

A good character, no matter how big or small or whether good guy or bad, is one with personal thoughts and feelings. Such a character has a part to play in the story but from the character's perspective, there is no story. Every moment is just another in the endless stream of reality.

The foot soldier of villainy may be a nonentity antagonist in his fiction but not in his reality. For example: an Imperial Stormtrooper standing guard in a detention block. He feels himself being stared at or may hear a noise. He looks over his shoulder. He cringes as a looming monster lunges at him. The sentry is silenced violently but unceremoniously.

I relish the anticipation when my heroes find themselves behind a pesky sentry. I gleefully anticipate the quick and easy violence that shall eliminate the anonymous baddie. I am amused that the sentry is armed and supposedly vigilant but helpless. I feel grimly satisfied because the victim is trouble, thus, deserving of his inglorious fate.

What about the unfortunate Stormtrooper? I imagine him being a real person. He would have a name those who know him would know him by (even if it is a serial number). There would be a face behind the mask of his helmet. The quick and easy that kills him would be a dramatic and tragic moment that ends his life.

I do not love the nameless foot soldiers of villainy to hate them. Yes, I am amused by their uselessness against heroes. I am thrilled as they struggle feebly or wither in droves. I am excited when they cringe and scream. They are my favorite characters, always.

The useless baddies are perfect as they are. Their names need not be given or their faces shown. We need not mourn their passing. I enjoy imagining them as real people on the wrong side of adventure. The grunts and groans, cringing and screaming, death throes and sprawled bodies are more interesting when they are the quirks of believable characters.

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Fate of the Many

The lowly are lowly indeed. Their thoughts are mindless and their feelings thoughtless. Their lives amount to nothing and their deaths return them to the dust. Alas, they are anonymous no matter their names and useless no matter their use.

My heart is passionate, my mind keen, my soul pure and my strength prevailing. My thoughts are mindful and my feelings thoughtful. I live a life that matters and I may never die. My name is unknown yet it is beyond any and all ever uttered or scribbled. My deeds are the nonsense that give all meaning.

I am the Spirit of Friendship. Freedom and Justice are the every imagination of the thoughts of my heart continually. I have become flesh that I may demonstrate spirit. I am weak that I may show my strength. I am the fool that I may shame all wisdom. By my fantasies shall I deliver reality from its dysfunctions. By stumbling I remain steadfast. By wandering I travel the straight and narrow.

I never lift another up... yet my hand is offered to any who would climb. I never give of myself... yet I am the inspiration for all who make something of themselves.

The lowly mean nothing to me for they are lowly indeed. Never shall I squander a moment or resource for their sake. I shall sting them for their apathy that they may feel. I shall smite them for their mischief that their own evil shall be upon them.

In His wisdom the Almighty God created the sinister to stir the righteous. He mass-produced the lowly to provide cheap labor and cannon-fodder. Never did He mean to redeem the sinister. Never did He mean to lift up the lowly. A man may climb up from the bottom but lowly is not his place lest he stay there.

Parables of the Expendable

The “Red Shirts” of fiction are the expendable nonentities as protagonists… as they are portrayed in Star Trek: the Original Series. Though “good guys” their lives are insignificant and their deaths inconsequential. Still, the heroes value these lives and grieve their passing.

The “mooks” of fiction are the expendable nonentities as antagonists. Their lives are cheap and their numbers easily replenished. Their bosses use them as cannon-fodder and think nothing of it.

The lowly are lowly whether “good” or evil. They are expendable whether their affiliation is right or wrong. Quite simply: a life’s merit is its significance. Those that amount to little are worth little. Those that amount to nothing are worthless. I dare say the lowly are cheap if not trash by their personal failings.

There is no “fairness” to be had or even yearned for. There is no “equality” better than justice. Our world is what it is that the wheat may be separated from the chaff. It burns to clear the gems and precious metals of all the hay and stubble. Our spiritual reality is survival-of-the-fittest that those who would do shall do much and those who would do nothing shall lose everything. Our best fiction is always a parable of this unseen yet innately evident truth.

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Agents of the Eye and Ear

I wrote a realistic fantasy adventure about elves. I call them "fairies" as I do all the fairy folk in their fairyland. There is no airy fairy, mind you. The magic does not sparkle, zap or blast. Wizards are skillful in wizardry but are no match for warriors in a fight. There is no "ultimate power" to be had. The world does not hang in the balance easily. Heroes are uncommon and villains have responsibilities.

I was inspired by modern fantasy and the legends of old alike. Worlds of swords and magic are thrilling and fantastic to say the least.

I write fairy tales. Like Robert E. Howard (Conan) and J.R.R. Tolkien (the Lord of the Rings) mine are gritty. The swords do draw blood and the magic does require effort. The fiction has a basis in reality. Homages to the history and legends of old are throughout.

Conan is wonderful because his Hyborean Age is a believable world of survival-of-the-fittest with undercurrents of lurking horror. The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are wonderful because their Middle-earth is a believable world of danger and hope caught in the maelstrom of unseen forces. Howard and Tolkien set the highest standard for the fantasy genre. I was mindful of what their works have in common.

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Beyond the Pale

I write fairy tales. My fantasy, horror and science fiction are all weird stories about strange entities. I have been asked why I never write anything “normal” or “real” or whatever else we call the mundane. My knowledge of history has begged the question why I never write historical fiction.

I am spiritual. I see the material for the thin veneer of reality that it is. My thoughts and feelings run deeper than its superficial layer. My fantasies are not whimsical. My stories and their characters are all about reality.

The soul is first and foremost in all my thoughts. Who we are before we act and what we become afterwards are all that matters.

The humans in my stories are always foolish weaklings. Most of them are nonentities who languish or perish for being witless and helpless. The few who are bold in their foolishness and resourceful in their weakness are the relevant characters. These few may die and even suffer an inglorious death but never are they tossed onto the pile of the irrelevant many.

The strange characters in my stories are either corrupted humans, not entirely human or simply not human. They are typically stronger, tougher, faster and smarter than humans. They slaughter our nonentities with ease and impunity. Only those of us beyond our paltry sum of being mortal and only human can hope to best them.

The soul, not our feral and temporal meat, is our humanity. Our imagination, not our intellect, is what enables us to see and act beyond the pale. I write fairy tales because anything less is rambling in vain.

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