Of Dancing On the Bodies & Crocodile Tears

The reason why the great wall of China was built was
because the No Trespassing signs just didn't cut it.

Of Dancing On the Bodies & Crocodile Tears


Unless you've been hiding under a rock or lay comatose in a hospital somewhere the last few days, you've probably heard of the recent incident in Connecticut. Needless to say, the media & politicians have been making a LOT of political hay of it. Even "our" president has shed some tears of dubious authenticity.

On Fox News late Sunday, just before the start of a televised memorial service (Wherin the "annointed one" campaigned about "doing something".) the elitist Charles Krauthammer opined about this being a "watershed" on the Second Ammendment. He went on further to say that this also affected the First & Fifth ammendments as well & that any "measures" would impinge upon them. Then he said that maybe Americans might be willing to "this time" accept such impingements.

In the words of Benjamin Franklin: "Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." Interesting how that "damn piece of paper" (The Constitution.) can be such a pain in the posterior to those with "a vision for tomorrow".

So ... Write, e-mail, fax, PHONE your representative & Senators in Congress. Tell them in no uncertain terms to vote AGAINST not only any & all gun control legislation but also AGAINST any & all legislation concerning censoring/curtailment of media, the written word, games, internet, etc. The rights & property you save may be your own.

I know what I'd pick ...

"In other news" Senators Mark Warner & Joe Manchin (Both Demicans) have "broken ranks" with pro-gun senators & have called for "bans" on "assault weapons". One can only imagine what it was that caused them to sell out their respective constituencies. As it is the nature of the politician/parasite to feed at the public trough as long as possible, I doubt their betrayals were due to any rosey rhetoric or fits of compassion & more in the line of gaining "political capitol" of some kind. They profit at your expense.

Virginia voters should note that Mr. Warner is up for re-election in 2014 (Hint! Hint!).

Just sayin'.


Be sure to check out the web sites listed in the "I Second the Motion" section on the right hand side of this page.

Contact your representative & senators here.

Why single issue voting on the gun issue is neither short sighted or myopic here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

The 24 Types of Authoritarians

The 24 Types of Authoritarians


With sports wonk Bob Costas "legislating" from his mouth on CNN (Communist News Network) recently, this little cartoon was brought to mind. Check it out & see if you've "met" any other of his whacky "co-religionists".

I'll admit ... I do identify with a couple of them. Which one(s) are you?

Costas: "Hey! I'm a Cel ... eb ... ri ... teeee! I'VE GOT SOMETHING TO SAY!"

As the Brits would say: "Sod off Bobby!"

In unrelated "news", I wouldn't worry about the "fiscal cliff" overmuch. In regards to the national debt & deficit, I'm sure the Republicrats/Demicans will eventually come to a compromise on kicking the can down the road & leaving the responsibility to others ...

As for tax & spending cuts, I think the Republicrats should just:

Boehner & the bunch should turn their backs on the "annointed one"
 & when the crap hits, let the Demicans "own" it.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Uncle Wolf, A Haibane Renmei Fanfiction

Gurie/Glie street scene drawing by
the Haibane artist Wolf ... or is it?

Uncle Wolf

A Haibane Renmei Fan Fiction

by

C V Ford


"Why are your wings so dark Uncle Wolf?"

"Hachi!" The older Hana exclaimed. "You shouldn't ask questions like that!"

"I jus' wanna know ..."

Wolf smiled as he tucked the large sketchpad under his arm. Hachi being a new arrival of only three weeks & a young feather at that, it was only natural she would ask. As for him, he stopped letting it bother him long ago. A glance at his wings revealed to him their black mottled, gray scheme. An improvement (He hoped.) over what they were several years before.

Looking at the child he replied. "Well ... before I came here ... I must have been BAD, I guess."

"How bad!?"

"Hachi!"

"Why ... Almost as bad as ... ," he slowly turned in a crouch & pointed. "YOU!"

Another young feather, a boy this time, jumped back.

"No way!" The kid was smiling. He'd obviously been through this before. "I grew out nice charcoal grey feathers!"

"Stop it! NOW! All of you!"

Everyone looked up to see Hikari approaching from the kitchen.

"Awww ... Kids just being kids Hikari ..."

"Some of them BIG kids too!"

"I tried to stop it Hikari but ..."

"It's all right Hana. I heard everything." Half smiling, Hikari looked at Wolf. "It's almost time for their afternoon nap. You shouldn't get them so riled up."

"Just a little fun. I like kids ... sorry ... "

Hikari gave a little laugh. "You should be ... So ... leaving?"

"I have all the little details I need. I can start on the main event in a day or so. Besides ... If I stay any longer I'll be sketching portraits of everyone."

"Looks like you already have," Hikari noted looking at the thick sketchbook.

"That's probably what kept me here all yesterday too."

"That's exactly what it was! I saw ..."

"It's OK Hana. We know Wolf gets as much fun out of everything he can," the ponytailed blonde reassured. Looking back at Wolf, "they really like the drawings you made of them yesterday ... hung them all over the classroom. You DID get all the details you needed didn't you?"

"Took awhile ... but yes."

"With LOTS of interruptions?"

"Couldn't be helped ... They were all over me ..."

"They're more than a handful."

"By the way, thank you for the wonderful lunch."

"No trouble at all. I always like working with food. Makes me wish I was back at the bakery."

"Yes ... They miss you there. Like you said, these kids are more than a handful ... ," he said turning toward Gurie. "And with that ... I shall leave."

As were the past lives of individual Haibane,
the group of buildings history was vague at best.

Saying their goodbyes, Wolf strode off in the direction of Gurie proper. It had been a wonderful day & a half of Autumn at Old Home. The young feathers weren't any trouble with their interrupting & he was more than happy for the distraction of drawing anything other than the task at hand. He was that good. A few days before, he was hit with an inspiration of how to commit the old dorm/fort to canvas. He would do it gratis, not as it was now or new, but before it started to fall apart. He would depict the crumbled wall as whole & other things not so dilapidated. As it was in its heyday, whatever purpose the place was originally for, no one knew. As were the past lives of individual Haibane, the group of buildings history was vague at best.

The towns' clock tower loomed in the distance. As he walked back to town he pondered the previous five years of his existance in this strange, walled-in shadowland.

He was cocoon born with the blackest of wings thus causing most at Abandoned Factory to shun him almost immediately. On his Acceptance at the temple the Washi informed him of his sinbound state. As far as the communicator could make out, had he not come here, he would have had much to answer for & a tremendous understatement at that.

Suppressing an initial wave of rage & rebelliousness, he resolved if he couldn't atone for something he had no idea of, he would at least try to live a life different from before as far as he knew. Though not proud of his wings' coloration, he wouldn't hide it either. Even when later offered a temporary remedy from Old Home. He would walk in the light of day & having people accept him as he was, chips falling where they may. It caused some strife at Abandoned Factory at first but as he stood up for himself, giving as good as he got & then some, the others grudgingly accepted him or steered clear.

Being an avid reader as well as a stickler for organisation & tidiness, he soon secured employment as an assistant librarian. The position vacated by an older Haibane of Old Home leaving to care for the young feathers due to another taking her Day of Flight.

He also found he had a more than adequate artistic talent. Though he dabbled in sculpture it was in drawing & painting he excelled. So much so, the sight of a black winged Haibane with sketchbook or easel became familiar in & around Gurie. Townsfolk on seeing his work, eventually came to him with comissions, a most welcome supplement to his librarians' wage. Mostly portraits & landscapes, several wall murals about town also attested to his skill.

He later took to frequenting the cafe & two taverns where he could be found in vigorous conversation over coffee (later beer) & checkers expounding about art, philosophy, & local affairs. So much had he become a local fixture, most everyone knew him by name. The children, Haibane & human alike, took to calling him Uncle Wolf.

His given name, reflecting his cocoon dream, was Suibou, meaning downfall ... ruin. Not caring for it he broke with tradition & settled on Worufu or Wolf. A name appealing to him for reasons he could not fathom but took to it he did.

Like a former resident of Old Home, he painted
some works having to do with that dream ... 

The dream itself, now haunting him less, had him engaged in futile warfare involving strange weapons & fantastic machines. It would be interspersed with visions of being before vast crowds or smaller groups of officious looking men in strange uniforms, speaking on the nature of struggle ... or of things darker. Like a former resident of Old Home, he painted some works having to do with that dream &, like the other, they were vague shadows at best ... of an even vaguer shadow.

In the middle of his third year he did something unprecedented for a Haibane, raising not a few eyebrows. He moved out of Abandoned Factory. Between his librarians' pay & artistic endeavors he was able to afford a modest three room flat above the used clothing store of which he made into his private studio. The Washi reluctantly allowed for this as it loosely fit that part of the Haibane creed about self reliance & non-dependance on the community.

On being warned by the communicator of the possibility of too much involvement in human affairs, Wolf assured him. He was well aware that aside from civil law & some social interaction, the ways of Haibane & human were mutually exclusive.

It was to his apartment he was now headed. To drop off his sketchwork before repairing to the cafe where he was sure a hot coffee & an even hotter game of checkers awaited. Instead of taking the outside steps up he decided on entry through the shop instead. Business to discuss.

Boroya & Wolf were friends long before their relationship of landlord/tennant began. The merchants' grandmother engaged Wolf in doing a canvas of the chapel where she was married long ago. Through old photographs supplied by Boroya & some research, Wolf decided on doing a bonus picture of the structures' interior as well ... Decked out as it had been on the day of the ceremony.

How the dear old lady fretted over what she thought to be a long wait over a single painting. Wolf reassuring her it was well worth the wait. When she was presented with not one but two well executed works ... She was astounded to say the least.

He agonised over how much he should have charged but in the end, left it up to her as to their worth. Out of politeness, he refrained from even glancing at his pay-book & courteously took his leave. A couple blocks later with curiosity getting the better, he withdrew the booklet & looked.

After picking his jaw up from the pavement, he rushed back exclaiming she paid way too much. She insisted he earned every mite of it & wished she could pay more. He felt bad about it until Boroya later told him she could well afford it.

The amount would have kept him in rent & food for almost two months.

"Back so soon?" Asked the clothing monger on seeing the artist enter.

"Only needed to get a few more details down & that was it. I start on the canvas after work tomorrow. Right now, I think I owe you something."

"Yes," replied the landlord. "Tomorrow's the first of the month."

"There's also ... ," Wolf added pointing, "... that."

On the wall by the counter hung a large, like new uniform great coat of the kind worn by the gatekeepers. The portly former owner insisted it to be a size too small. Wolf felt it would make for an excellent overcoat for the soon to be winter.

"I noticed you had your eye on that for awhile." Boroya got the coat down handing it to the artist. "Here you go."

"And here YOU go," Wolf replied giving an already prepared sheet from his paybook, with rent & coat price scribbled on. Gathering it up, he headed for the stairs. "Just gonna drop everything off & I'm gone."

"Woah ... Wait a minute!"

"Oh?" Wolf turned back seeing the sheet handed back.

"You did it again."

"What the ... Oh geez! Just when I think I've stopped doing that, it happens again."

Taking the sheet he crossed out the errant signature. Entering the correct one he handed it back.

In his dealings with the Haibane, Boroya knew more about them than most residents of the town. Sometimes even surprising Wolf with his knowledge.

"You know," he speculated looking at the first signature. "I still think this might have been your name before coming here. You must have signed a LOT of things with it for it to have ... uh ... 'followed' you."

"Nothing bad I hope."

"I wouldn't worry."

Boroya watched as the artist ascended the stairs, halo & black mottled gray wings swaying softly. Looking down at the sheet in his hand he contemplated the superceded mark.

"Curious name," he thought. "This ... Adolf ... What COULD it mean?"

He knew there was no way of knowing, not even by the Renmei itself. Deep down, something told him it was probably for the best that no one EVER could.


Storyline copyright © 12-12-2012 Jay Agan


More of my Haibane Renmei fan fiction:

An Offer She Might Refuse here.

An Exception In Gurie here.

Washi With the Mask Off here.

His Mother Was the Lightning His Taker the Light here.

You Devil You here.


Articles:

Haibane Renmei: One Side of the Equation here.

Haibane Renmei: Awww Rats! here.


Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.


Disclaimer: The preceding is a NON-PROFIT work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. I make no claim to ownership of the copyrighted names/characters, illustrations, places, some dialogue & events mentioned in this work. They are the sole properties of  Radix & Funimation. Please, by all means support the owners of such properties in the purchase & enjoyment of their products.

Evangelion 3.Whatever

Yup! That's the jacket!

Evangelion 3.Whatever


I'm sure you've heard by now that Evangelion 3.0 premiered in Japan. Madman Entertainment of Austrailia has already snapped up the rights for marketing it there. Wonder how soon Funimation will pick up on this.

Saw the trailer to it. Looks good, though mostly a montage of Unit 02 in flight. Interesting shot of the Mari character piloting hers (Whatever that may be at the time. Now I know why "Mari Illustrious Makinami kitty smile" comes up in my blog search word stats.).

An interesting shot of Asuka adjusting a light jacket being worn over the plugsuit. Not having seen the flick, I imagine it has something to do with the TEST suit from the previous film. Seems she has a sense of shame & embarassment & doesn't care for walking around with half her posterior hanging out. No doubt the hentai kiddies have had a field day with that since 2.0.

I'll never understand the fetish for eyepatches. A cute trick with it would be to switch it from one to the other in a scene or two. Makes for a little mind messing with the fans.

Yeah ... Fanservice. I understand why it's there. Hope they don't overdo it. If I want that sort of thing I know where to get it. As for a movie ... Tell me a story instead.

Just saw this clip from the film. Looks like 3.0 will be a major departure from the series we know & love/loath. Little too much choppy editing for my taste. Kaouru as always, ... creepy.

I understand Evangelion 3.0 is on the TENTATIVE viewing room schedule at Armageddicon (It says You Can (Not) Redo on the list so I ASSUME that's it.) later this month. If so, I'm already there! Probably in Japanese without subs but I'll endure.

One I'd definitely see! And get the disc ... & the Manga ...
& the light novels ... & the figurines ... & the shirt ...

In unrelated news, I replaced my six disc "non set" of Geneon/Pioneer discs of Haibane Renmei with the two disc set from Funimation. A certain "Alabanian" will get the old ones if he shows up at the aforementioned con.

May the angels all protect us
From fates too vile & horrendous
Cause our country's so stupendous
ALABANIA IS GREAT!



Evangelion 3.0 trailer here.

Evangelion 3.0 film clip here.

Neon Genesis Evangelion: OOOOO! Goodies in the Mail here.

End of Evangelion: This Is (Really) Disturbing here.

Haibane Renmei: One Side of the Equation here.

Haibane Renmei: Awww Rats! here.

Armageddicon main page here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Third Impact, IN SPADES!

All of a sudden ... Reis ... LOTS of  'em! Yeah ... NOW you know how bad poor
 Aoba felt when HE got piled on! Photo Credit: Tatto  Cosplayer: Zal

Third Impact, IN SPADES!


Either this is some kind of End of Evangelion cosplay deal or a very bad Brylcreem ad. "A little dab 'll do ya!"

"Mommy! ... Mommy! ... Oh! ... Wait! ... She's already here ... Sorta kinda ..."

Quit yer whinin' Shinji!

A student at work turned me on to this & I just had to share it with one & all. It's from the American Cosplay Paradise site.


American Cosplay Paradise main page here & specific here.

For those young-uns' who don't know what Brylcreem is ... here. Not that it would have helped Shinji in any way ...

Neon Gensis Evangelion: All's Not Right At Nerv here.

End of Evangelion This Is (Really) Disturbing here.

Neon Genesis Evangelion OOOO! Goodies In The Mail here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Obama Voters: My Sediments Exactly!

Obama Voters: My Sediments Exactly!


Thought some of you might get a kick out of a couple gun store signs from Arizona. And yes, I DID "mis-spell" sentiments.



You might also want to stay away from anything hot or sharp.

I really doubt one would turn potential purchasers away for that. If anything, it's only a political statement for what it's worth. I mean, no doubt SOME did vote for Obama out of sincere conviction. Hmmmm ... maybe it's a good thing some folks don't own firearms after all.

Just sayin'.


Link to original article here.

Fool Me Twice ... Darkness Descends here.

ARE We Better Off Mr. Obama? I Know I'm NOT! here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Tacklebox Gun

Tacklebox Gun

Based on an incident that actually happened to me way back when.

by

Jay Agan


The rod’s end snapped, letting fly a long, arcing cast toward a tall,mossy stump poking above the water. Sure of a huge bass lurking in the weed choked roots, Bill Strickland hoped to winkle it out. A shiny brass spoon in the waning ochre light of pre-dusk made for a good bet in catching the fish’s interest.

Stooging through nearby shallows, dorsals above the surface, a pair of orange-brown carp foraged lazily. The angler paid scant attention to the "trash fish" as he reeled the line slowly in. Bass and panfish were his forte. A medium sized smallmouth, two crappie, and a large pumpkinseed lay slipped on a stringer. Four in a half hour was more than promising. When the sun started its set, the fish would really get to biting.

Bill straightened and stretched his five foot nine frame, relieving tension in the middle-aged limbs and back. Scanning his mid-west idyll, he noticed the coloration of the trees on the shore, opposite. The fast change, started in late August, meant a short fall and early winter, to his way of thinking.

Reflections on the waters at the far bank gave the illusion of the forest growing down into the depths of Howland Reservior. Rustling breezes, through field and wood, conveyed the impression of "both" forests being a single breathing entity.

Sweeping a dark lock from his face, the man pondered. Though lean times were ahead in this late seventies recession, he was much at peace. Unemployment, never easy to take anywhere, was always doubly worse in Millard County. In an area of scarce jobs, periods of inactivity could be months long. He had seen it coming weeks before the plant layoffs and resolved not to pass the time vegetating.

He’d make real use of his time and planned accordingly. Outdoor recreation was a big part in the order of the day. Any friends not receptive to hunting, fishing, and just plain walking in the woods, were free to go to seed at the various town watering holes or decay in front of the idiot box.

A grimace cut the thin face on a remembered layoff, years past. Months of "going to hell with himself" wasn’t on the new agenda. An unpaid vacation suited him better. Non-existant escape through the tube or alcohol was no substitute for an extended holiday.

He gave silent thanks in avoiding a "fate worse than ‘life’."

A throaty, staccato rumble to the left turned his attention outward. No sooner had he pinpointed the area of the source, a twenty-five yard distant tangle of scrub and trees, the bike and rider trundled out.

As "man" and bike lumbered past, heading for the chuck-holed road leading from the lake’s edge, Strickland made some quick observations.

The black, stripped down, FL-model Harley was no off road machine. Faded leathers (no "colors"), worn jeans, and engineer boots weren’t the usual attire of a dirt biker, either. The heavy individual displayed a less than pleasant look on a brutish, neanderthal mug: a dark, greasy, smear of unkempt fur and beard. The nose had to have been broken at least once.

Stopping on a small rise overlooking the reservoir, the rider stole a quick glance back before kicking in gear and taking off up the road.

The angler filed the "incident" as a minor distraction from his "blue heaven." No harm done. Casting the spoon, he attemped to shove the encounter from his thoughts.

Something nagged: "Almost a half hour fishing here, the biker was in that thicket the whole time. What was he..."

Though a paragon of mid-west, rural, America, Millard County had more than it’s "fair share" of crime. The "boonies" weren’t known easy availability of peace officers.

Several years back, a passing acquaintance was murdered while fishing this very same body of water. Investigators found the body in sad shape and no suspects, concluding he ran afoul of a passing tramp. Stories of beaten and robbed fishermen, occult activity, and other goings-on flashed through his mind.

A now familiar rumble of a V-twin engine edged back into listening range.

Rider and bike topped the rise going into a slow, easy, descent.

From the corner of his eye, Bill saw he was getting more than a quick once-over as before. The mutant was sizing him up. An intense feral look bespoke of contempt and hostility under the low, narrow, forehead.

The angler played dumb, feigning ignorance of what he saw as a quickly deteriorating situation.

For most of his adult life, Strickland usually had steel of some kind handy. On his left hip, obscured by the light jacket tied around his waist, hung the holstered Ruger .22 Standard-Auto in a cross draw. His "tacklebox gun."

Not totally sure of hostile intent at this point, Bill suppressed the urge to draw the pistol. One didn’t pull a gun on someone looking nasty at you from a distance. The biker’s gaze could mean anything, from disgust to malice.

Bill had often thought of how he would handle a dangerous situation and the outcome. He concluded knees would turn rubbery, the shakes would hit full force...maybe run...or not be able to.

Neither running or shaking, he felt calm and ready. Resultant confidence, from range time, reading, self training/study, surfaced, suppressing the fear of moments before. Only a low level apprehension was left to work its feeble subversion. Resolved, he would handle it. Under no illusions, he would use the gun.

Mind organized, he thought clearly. The best way to win a fight is to avoid it. Problem: Keep predator at a distance without escalating situation. Solution ...

The biker, but thirty yards away, Strickland made his move. As if to make a cast to his left, he turned his gun side to the oncoming rider. Feigning an itch in his side, Bill reached down to scratch, swept the jacket aside, revealing the pistol.

Pulling up short, the biker’s face ran the spectrum from hostility to amazement, then fear. The expressionless face of the angler revealed nothing while scanning the rider in his peripheral vision.

It was the anthropoid’s turn to be sized up, and the creature more than knew it. Even the dumbest of scooter-trash could see this was no easy mark.

Wheels turned smartly about, a then sober faced biker tooled conservatively up and over the rise with many a look back.

Strickland heaved a welcome sigh of relief. He would always wonder as to how nasty a situation had been averted.

He eyed the thicket his would-be antagonist originated from. A look-see was in order. Gun out, he crept slowly to the side of the tangle and peered in.

Nothing. Almost. He bent down, reaching for a shiny object in a muddy rut left by the bikes' wheels. He backed out, plastic bag in hand. The few green stems and seeds contained testified to the thorough use of the bag’s former contents. Another glance in revealed nothing else.

The possibility of a return performance prompted Bill to pack and leave for the car a quarter mile distant. Another fishing spot could always be had another day ...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cleaned and oiled, the Ruger auto lay in the night stand drawer, slick sheen reflecting the light. Bill’s appreciation of such mass-produced "art" went up more than a few points that day.

As earlier in the day, he felt at peace. He faced a snake in Eden, coming out the better for it. Any future serpents ... He would be ready.


Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Interesting Search Words #24

Interesting Search Words #24


Gotta keep searchin' searchin'
Find a place to hide
searchin' searchin'
Baby by my side
If we gotta keep on the run
We'll follow the sun now
Weeoo!
Follow the sun now
Weeoo!


1. girls in chastity belts - Not a bad idea considering ...

2. kyon & haruhi-third impact - didn't that almost happen in episode 6 of the first season & ep 23 of the second?

3. hentai real - Hentai not real.

4. william holden gay - I don't think so.

5. rei ayanami rebuild smile - Here at Community Dentistry, we can rebuild ANYONES smile into the perfect "you" ...

She's smiling 'cause you're about to get tanged.

6. tiny toons evil elmira - That's Almira. Elmira's a town in upstate New York.

7. shinji ikari depressed - More depressing than depressed.

"No! ... NO! ... Not ... My Little Pony! ... Anything but THAT! Aaaaaaaugh!"

8. green miranda warning card - Good combo. You can work AND keep your mouth shut.

9. cthulhu mlp - "... and in strange eons even THAT may die."

10. sailor moon smoking weed - "In the name of the moon ... I will uh ... uh ... Hey dude!? ... Ya ... Ya got any Doritos?"

Hey ... All Superman needed was a pair of glasses.
Fooled me every time.

Well, that's it for now. Maybe more in a couple weeks.


 The Head Trip of Haruhi Suzumiya pts 1, 2, 3.

Neon Genesis Evangelion: Oooo! Goodies In the Mail here.

End of Evangelion: This Is (Really) Disturbing here.

Hilarious assesment of the Evangelion franchise here.

Call of Cthulhu, One Really Worth Watching here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

On Voting

I guess we know now what that "else" is. Thanks a lot non-voters!

On Voting

As an actual combat veteran, Dad's never given much to "war stories". Doesn't care to talk about it. It was hinted at by others he'd gone through some really hairy stuff. If he does mention anything it's once in a blue moon & on something comparitively "mundane". Which is where this story/article comes in.

Dad also doesn't care much for those who don't vote. Here's why:

Sixty years back in November '52, on a hill in Korea, he cast his first vote.

He was a young second leutenant, a forward observer for artillery. For those who don't know, a forward spotter isn't miles back with the big guns. Not only is he on the front line with the grunts, but at times in FRONT of the front line. Where the only other people around may be sporting a different uniform/language &, if you're found, may act toward you in a rather hostile manner.

Needless to say, Dad has no business walking around breathing today. By the grace of God, he made it out alive.

It was on that day in November, the mess staff was supposed to bring the ballots up with the food. Only the food arrived. In order for each man to vote, they would, one at a time (They couldn't all just leave their positions at once.), make a three mile round trip in the rain to cast their ballot at the company CP (Something most wussies ... er ... uh ... Americans would balk at.). Dad liked Ike by the way.

To those pious hyprocrites who stayed home & prayed instead of voting:

If you "left it to the Lord" as I've heard some say, then He sure has one heck of a sense of humor. Jesus doesn't vote. YOU are supposed to.

If your phoney rapture non-doctrine does pan out I hope you're either LEFT BEHIND© (Serve ya right! God hates a coward.) or you actually do get taken & are not in the way of our struggle against the beast. We don't need you. While Jesus may not hate you, I certainly do.

To those "conservatives" who stayed home:

Just what the hell were you thinking? That it was an easy Romney win & your vote wasn't needed? Thanks to you, we still have "the annointed one" & John "Mr. Tough Guy" Boehner screaming compromise along with the other RINOs. Thanks for nothing, intrepid ones.

As for those who never vote:

I've usually found these to be either lowbrows or non-entities. I've long realized they're not worth talking to (The last one I tried reasoning with had me seriously contemplating kicking my heavy booted foot into the little dolphin tatoo on her ankle.). These none-suches would probably vote the wrong way anyhow. Maybe it's good some don't vote anyway.

Just sayin'.


Fool Me Twice ... Darkness Descends here.

ARE We Better Off Mr. Obama? I Know I'm Not here.

Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.

Man Of Character: An Azumanga Daioh Fan Fiction

Man of Character

An Azumanga Daioh Fan Fiction

by

C V Ford

As Dr. Sakaki looked down at the small form sitting on her office couch, hands upraised recieving the large box of ashes, she couldn't help but marvel. The recipient, not even twenty, was long out of college & interning at Jet Propulsion Labs in California. Was even considered vital to the joint projects between her government & the States.

It was hard for the veterinarian to believe that a few short years before, this was the perky ten year old genius attending high school with her & friends. Yet now, a budding scientist/engineer with a more than brilliant future ahead.

It pained her to see Chiyo like this. More so as the box contained the remains of a mutual friend.

"He was very old Chiyo," the doctor began. "Especially for a dog of his size & breed. You loved him very much to have taken such good care of him."

"He had a good doctor ..."

Sakaki seated herself next to Chiyo.

"What I'm getting at, & I'm not trying to be mean saying this but ... I'm glad he left the way he did. I don't think I could have ..."

She refrained from mentioning "the procedure". Though in love with her work, there was that one thing about it she passionately hated. Something she did at least once every two weeks. It wasn't pretty. The more cognizant ones, already frightened, could be in absolute terror knowing something to be terribly wrong. Sometimes ... one would fight.

Chiyo held the box close, reflecting on recent events. Her busy schedule of post grad & internship at Lawrence Livermore prevented her from caring for a large, elderly dog. With much reluctance, she left him in the care of her parents in Tokyo who were happy to have him back.

She, of course, saw him holidays & vacations. A week ago, she came back on a much needed vacation. Four wonderful days were spent together. Two days before , Chiyo let him out thinking he would be back in a few. When the scratching at the door didn't sound after a quarter hour, she went looking for him with some concern.

She found him. At his favorite place in the enclosed spatial yard under the big tree. It was as if he had fallen asleep.

Tears started flowing. "I wish I was ... there ... when ... when it happened ..."

"He knew he was going hon. He didn't want you to see him leave. He knew you'd find him eventually."

"Oh God! It ... it hurts! ... so much... Why ... "

Reaching over, Sakaki held Chiyo close. Tears also starting.

"... he was the first dog I ever petted ..."

"I remember when I first met him. He was the first dog I ever petted. Was always afraid of big dogs. Thought he'd bite me."

"He ... wouldn't have."

"And when I saw you get on & riding him ... You were so tiny then ... I was instantly jealous. Still am."

"... and when I saw you get on & riding him ... I was instantly jealous ..."

"You have Maya ... and your practice."

"As you know, I couldn't have pets until I moved out. You practically grew up with him. I'll never know that.

"While I thought of going into veterinary medicine before, it wasn't until that day I was certain."

"Mom, Dad & I are going to spread the ashes by the tree this Sunday. I was wondering ..."

"Yomi called about it. We'll ALL be there."

"I didn't call as I wanted to ask you personally. You've been so good to him."

"Thank you Chiyo ... Mr. Tadakichi wasn't a good dog ... He was a great one."

"He was ... A man of character."

"Yes Chiyo-chan ... He was at that."

Credit: Objection06 from Deviantart.

 Storyline (only) copyright © 11-9-2012 C V Ford


Other Azumanga Daioh fan fiction stories:

Not So Oblivious (Sakaki & Kaorin) here.

Beyond Wrong & Wonderful, an Azumanga Daioh/End of Evangelion crossover here.

Azumanga Daioh, Where Are They Now? here.

Azumanga Daioh, Too Much Cute (review) here.

Sakaki meets Mr. Tadakichi You Tube video here.


Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.


Disclaimer: The preceding is a NON-PROFIT work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. I make no claim to ownership of the copyrighted names/characters, places, some dialogue & events mentioned in this work. They are the sole properties of J. C. Staff. Please, by all means support the owner of such properties in the purchase & enjoyment of their products.

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Fool Me Twice ... Darkness Descends

Darkness descends.

Fool Me Twice ... Darkness Descends

To all this does concern;

Last night, I saw the United States put an official stamp on its' headlong rush to suicide. I had already noted its' death wish through the years in the promotion/sanction of collectivism, feminism, abortion & homosexuality, things most destructive to a nation. Now, with the re-election of Obama something new has been added.

Last night, the parasites & their allies came out of the woodwork in droves & outvoted us. There are now more of THEM than there are of us. The "something for nothing" crowd now has a greater understanding that they can get anything they want at the expense of the productive. The politicians, both left & right, will make note of this & act accordingly to eventually accomodate them as much as possible. A great socialist dark age is about to descend.

I had hopes for my own future. I was hoping when the economy improved I could go back to a voice acting career. A career that was yanked out from under me when, 16 months into the presidents' first term, I was informed by my agent that my contract would not be renewed due to the bad economy. I bided my time in hopes things would improve. A good start would have been in the ousting of Obama & repairing the damage caused.

Now that I see real economic recovery to be impossible (The forced health care insurance racket to be foisted upon one & all will help not in the least.) I have decided to forego an acting career. Even if I restarted & was successful It would only put me in a higher tax bracket. I have no desire to contribute anything more to what I feel is a country bent on killing itself & taking me with it. As a character in Ayn Rands' novel, Atlas Shrugged said: "I don't care to be the cannibals' lunch & do the cooking as well."

I'm a janitor now & probably retire as one. Instead of having my dreams on hold, I will now hang them up for good. I plan on contributing as little as possible to "the community", society, or whatever it is they call that vague, collective hive mind. I withhold any talent or goodness I might have given to the world. To better myself would mean I would only be punished (taxed) more for whatever they deem to be a "fair share" (Subject to change anytime someone behind a desk thinks it's not "fair" enough & increase it.).

As it contributes nothing to "their scene", I will continue with this blog as a creative outlet for myself.

To those who have voted to cut the nations' throat, congratulations. Enjoy it while you can. I optimistically give it ten, maybe fifteen years before the consequences of your actions become more than apparent. As you make more & more demands upon the productive, the less you will get as the incentive for creators, inovators, job providers & working people to better themselves will be diminished. The grab bag of free goodies will eventually be empty, the goose laying the golden eggs will be dead. The party will be over.

To those who voted for the president the SECOND time wether it was out of "idealism" or the belief it was for the "good" ...

There is an old saying: "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

The shame will be very much on you though I doubt you have the wit to feel it. The smarter among you may eventually find your fanciful ideologies & good intentions to be of little use/compensation in the years of darkness to follow.

The unfortunate thing is we will ALL get what you deserve. In your haste to bring about your dream of a better tomorrow, we will all be dragged through what will become a nightmare.

To those who voted otherwise. To the makers of real material wealth. To the inventors & innovators. To the creative & artistic among you. To the adventurous & seeking. To the working man & maintainer:

It was good while it lasted. I am sad to see this country go.

May God bless you all. For we are about to descend into hell.

yours,

Jay Agan


Go to Jays' Tee Vee blog main page here.