Of Rape

Featured image

I am about to dig deep into a thought no one should ever have to delve into, and that is rape.  Over the course of the last month we have had two shows depicting rape that have unsettled viewers:  one from Game of Thrones and the other from Outlander.  Now I am not going to criticize either show, because I have not seen them, nor do I really care to, details are not necessary for me as a reader, viewer or a writer. I believe in leaving some details to the imagination of the reader. Far more important on the subject of rape is its weaving into the story as a whole for a purpose.  So why am I delving into this now?

Back in 2010 I released the first three stories on my planned nineteen story mythology.  This trilogy can stand on its own and provides an exciting and moving story. When completed my readers suggested they didn’t want it to end, so I interjected a thought on the continuation of the story, but from a much different perspective.  The premise, only disclosed to my beta readers had them excited, but now I have to deliver as a writer.

In 2013, I began to write the next series of nine stories dealing with the fall of entire worlds.  Now watching Game of Thrones, you have an idea of a world in complete chaos, where everyone dies, good or bad.  However, my stories deal with both sides of good and evil, and interjects a creator and fallen immortals. There is the darkness and there is the light.  So why destroy worlds and all its inhabitants?  For salacious entertainment, or entertaining thoughts deep into our very nature of being, faith, and why bad things happen to good people.  Remember I am weaving a story, not a religion or doctrine.

In the first story of these nine in the next series I deal with the fall of a young man through the direct influence of evil.  In his madness, he mistakes an innocent young woman as the love who spurned him, and he holds her prisoner and rapes her.  I do not go into detail.  I care not to.  I only use the word “defile” to lead the reader to the evil act.  Surely somewhere in your life you’ve seen or read about rape, will repeating it over again make it any less vile or more entertaining?  This why I chose not to go into detail. Use your imagination if you must, but concentrate on how the rape affects the young woman.

Even in the moment of her despair, the heroine has to rise to the aid and protection of very young children also taken prisoner, not to be raped, just that the young man’s insanity believes them to be his own children.  Upon her rescue she has to deal with the issue of her rape.  Is she pregnant, does she want to live, did she contribute to her rape or did others, will another man ever love her again? Unique to my story is that this is the first living being having to deal with the first moral dilemma.  The young man has to deal with the first moral judgement.  In the middle, is an immortal about to fall from grace from his meddling in mortal affairs, and he watches carefully over the emotions and frailties of the creators beloved mortals.

As a man, this section of my story is difficult to express in the narrative. Do I linger too long on her emotions, or move quickly away from it? Currently I am at 160,000 words, my largest work to date. What I chose to do was not focus on the destruction of the woman’s virtue and innocence, but the ability to rise above it and continue to live and love.  So without going into too much detail the heroine of this story has to deal with tragedy twice for the ending cannot be good if it is the fall of a world.

Or will it be all bad?  As a writer I plan to have certain themes in each story with little hints of upcoming events that will occur in the future stories.  If you have read the trilogy, then you know the ending, but you don’t know the whole journey, for it is still developing in my mind.

The first book in my trilogy was titled, “Rise of the Fallen” and had a dual meaning. For as darkness is rising, so is the light, wherever evil appears it is counter-balanced by good. And this thought should provide comfort.

Sound off, what story have you read that tastefully deals with the topic of rape, and introduces a heroine not succumbed by the act?

Apocalypse Monthly – April 2013 Edition (The Password)

Apocalypse Monthly  Signs of the End of the Times

Apocalypse Monthly
Signs of the End of the Times

I am old enough to remember the world before the socially impersonal personal computer.  It was a sane world where the only password  needed was the one that gained you access to the guy’s doubly secret tree house (Soon to be the Man Club).  I think “Hate Girls” was the password that we used.  Once in, we looked at Playboy centerfolds that one of the members stole from their dad’s car.  Whoa, that’s not a girl, what is that?  We were doomed from that moment on, because everywhere we went we looked for bunnies in the real world.  They just don’t exist.  But I digress.

Fast forward 40 years and now you have so many applications, excuse me, we have so many apps, that we can’t remember the passwords to them.  You can’t use “Hate Girls” because it’s not very secure and Siri would file a hate crime charge against you.  Even PC’s have become PC.  Oh no, we have to add all kinds of things to our passwords, like three levels of our past history, such as our dog’s name, or the name of the first gross girl you kissed.

PuffyLips

Wendy Wobble Wips was her name – how the heck  could anyone forget her! I still have nightmares about that girl.  It’s  a miracle I’m married with children. Kissing her reminded me of being in a car wash. She became a full lip and facial masseuse.  But I digress again.

Then you start to run out of passwords, because you can’t use the same combo or near combo as the past 1,000,000 you just used.  So you look around the room or out the window for clues to your next password that no one can possibly hack.  Here’s a few from today’s password changes:

  1. BellyButtonLint2013
  2. DustBunny4321BlastOff
  3. WindyWendyWhipsWundabaWafflesWithWobbleWips!Q12TuvvWTH
  4. 1DeadDriedSpider
  5. SquirrelsPlayingWithNuts007
  6. SuxNextMensPurseCapris2

And this was just the password crap I had to go through to log into QuickBooks.  What the hell is so Quick about that?  Then my bank wants me to provide a picture that only I will know is my own.  So I provided the photo of Wendy above.  At least my brain will be shocked and possibly knocked back into password retrieval.

I was a consultant during Y2K, I ran test of people’s computers to determine if rolling over to “00” would reset history and kill current time and data. I was somewhat scared of being thrown back into the age of disco. I recall the doomsday press releases: nuclear annihilation, overrunning sewers, yada, yada.  Nothing happen.  I think someone farted and a few people died, but certainly no apocalypse.  Then the Mayan fart came along and yet again, nothing happened.  But I tell you, we are on an unsustainable app password course that will have dire consequences.  Well at least for this month, then I’ll have to reset the passwords to my other 150 applications, excuse me, apps.

Finally, I am reminded of the movie Network, where the guy rants and raves to tell people to run to their windows and scream to the world, “I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore.” I imagine we are all carrying our computers, tablets and iSmarty phones and hurl them to their silicone deaths, with Siri screaming to the bitter concrete apocalyptic end, when we see the dawn of a new day and NewDayDawn04142013 becomes our password. For tomorrow it becomes WTF-IOWE-IRS-04152013.

What’s the most annoying app security you’ve witnessed?  Come on, share something here.  I won’t SPAM you – much.

Apocalypse Monthly – Spring Break 2013

I just read another blogger’s hilarious take on spring break trip to Six Flags San Antonio.  It has been years since I ventured to a theme park, let alone a Walmart store. Why?  If you ever want to experience empirical evidence of devolution and digression just pick a spot where our youth hang out and socialize in long lines.   In just one week your precious son or daughter can leave and come back a different person, from a different planet, from a different dimension, and from a different species.  Girls Gone Wild was just a mild way of putting it, Girls Gone Insane is more descriptive. Young men are are already wild, but add girls gone wild and their heads just explode.

Must of us cringe at the sight of the People of Walmart photos.  Guess what?  That’s your little Johnny or Victoria in just a couple of more decades.  What devolves next is that little Johnny or Victoria will be calling you to see if their soul mate (the one they met on spring break) and soul children (The byproduct of soul-mating on spring break) can unconditionally rent (meaning free of course) your basement  from you. I am so sorry, you poor soul.

Down there they become cave creatures, only venturing forth from their endless days of video game tournaments, to check up on your stock of extra crunchy cheesy Cheetos.  If none are available, they will venture outside like cheese craving vampires, only after darkness arrives and head straight for Walmart, where they socialize.  They might get distracted if a tattoo shop is in their path.  Never, ever, venture to a Walmart after dark!  You know how dogs sniff each others behinds?  Well our youth are becoming closer to dogs than to humans.  Don’t believe me?  See the evidence below.

TrampStamp

Years from now some guy named Bob (at birth) will come up to your daughter Victoria in Walmart, see the little heart tattoo, all stretched and sagging into the cracks of doom and yell out, “Yo Vicky Yo! It’s me Crunchy Cheezy Cheetos RayJay Bob-Z.  Spring break Dayton Beach 2013! Doncha ya remember babeeeee?”   Now Victoria’s best friend Buffy, whose cute little butterfly is now the subject of a major motion picture – The Girl With the Really Scary Dragon Tattoo, turns to Bob and says, “Prove it’s you!”

??????????????

Then they all hug and recall the two minutes of spring break they remember before the haze set in.  They then turn to their smartphones and exit the Walmart back to party in their cave.

people-of-walmart2

Little Victoria
All Grown Up

When I was in high school and college, I loved going to the Texas State Fair on the weekend of OU/TX football game.  It was on the Midway that I began noticing the slow devolution of the human species.  I don’t do this anymore, nor shop at Walmart and I avoid spring break destinations like the plague.  I may not be hippity-hoppity, tantalizingly tattooed, or even cool-Z, but I will survive the coming devolution apocalypse – a result of addictions to spring break wildness.

I’ve been hoarding extra crunchy cheesy Cheetos.

Apocalypse Monthly – February 2013 (Ice Cream Wars)

Squid Ink Ice Cream

Squid Ink Ice Cream

My Facebook friend and fellow author from the United Kingdom, Danny Kemp, is always striking my funny bone with many of his comments.  Today’s comment:

Status: Home. Mood: Petulant. Outlook: Uncertain. Prospects Of Peace: None. Eventual Outcome: Defeat. Cause Of Conflict…………NO ICE CREAM!

And there you have it, how one man’s apocalyptic fears can start a worldwide panic.  I’m sure that many of his followers took off to check the freezer to discover they had no ice cream either. OMG! Soon hundreds of people will be rushing to the stores to hoard ice cream.  Soon there will be a run on rocky road, riots for orange sherbert push ups, and a stampede for nutty buddies.People will go all funky for a shortage of Chunky Monkey. People will perspire for Schweddy Balls. Others will suffer flesh wounds for Vermonty Python. Some will go fifty shades grayer for Karamel Sutra.

For those of us who live in the southern USA the shortage of ice cream would also be a serious issue.  Forget we are low on fresh water, but any interruption of ice cream and their 10,000 calories, would have people losing weight and becoming, well, plain irritable.  You’ve heard that song with the lyrics – A country boy can survive!  Don’t believe that for a minute, without cream, ice and rock salt, they cannot make homemade vanilla ice cream.  I am certain this was the cause of the Hatfield and McCoy wars.

As I read on I discovered an interesting historical fact. People actually do fight over ice cream.  Read here about the Glasgow Ice Cream wars of the 1980’s.  I kid you not!  The mafia was involved and everything, there were drugs, killings – all over ice cream.

As I researched for this apocalyptic vision of the future I ran across this link from the Food Network on unusual ice creams around the world. Squid Ink ice cream just about made me lose my breakfast and desire for ice cream forever. Even Asian’s (see proof above) who normally love squid, balk at the frozen confection asphyxiate. If they ever serve Haggis on a Belgian waffle cone, I’ll hurl for sure.  Now if they ever run out of coffee flavored ice cream, the world is over and the armies shall amass.  But you know what? I will survive. I think I can outrun Haggitha Boo Boo – the Supreme Queen of Cream.

Supreme Queen of Cream

Haggitha Boo Boo
Supreme Queen of Cream

What’s in your cone?

PS – I debated whether to include the stock photo of the obese woman.  As I stated in my last post, we must address the causes of our obesity and the deadly consequences of inaction. When a general of the joint chiefs of staff stated we may not be able to go to war with the physical condition of our youth, we must honestly address the coming healthcare apocalypse.  Medicare is unfunded by the amount of $43 trillion.  We must take action into our own hands.

Caffeine is not a crime – withholding Caffeine is

Coffee

Recently I was interviewed by United Kingdom author Jane Isaac.  Her blog is titled Caffeine is not a crime.  Well I have to disagree.  Withholding caffeine from addicted coffee lovers can lead to a crime, mob chaos and World War III. Many of you may not be old enough to remember a mad scientific experiment gone completely wrong, called freeze dried coffee.  I believe the name for the coffee was Sanka. It might have been better described as Skunka.  It was nasty, vile, horrible and unpalatable.  It might have been better used as a mouth wash, for kids who you are trying to break the habit of swearing or back talking.  There are some things in life that just should not be, such as caffeine free coffee.

My grandfather, a Captain in General George S. Patton’s 3rd Army, introduced me to coffee, with just a touch of cream. I had no idea at the time that would be referred to as a Latte.  Soon I was drinking coffee straight because my father stated it would put hair on my chest, which I’m still waiting for.  Nowadays young men shave body hair, or have it surgically removed with lasers – what a bunch of wimps!  They should be slapped with the gloves of Patton for not being a true man.  Nowadays so-called men are into coffee art and coffee bars, where they can talk about seeing the Mona Lisa in their Mocha Latte Grande, with just a pinch of cinnamon and ginger, and the few remaining hairs they have left to be removed. They can compare who has the smoother legs, along with their girlfriends. Someone please shoot me.  I can’t understand young women who want decaffeinated coffee and dehaired men.  It’s just not right!  Give it to me straight and hot, piping hairy hot. Caffeine can lead to digression, its only drawback.

If it were not for coffee, I would not be holding two college degrees, a CPA license, a securities license and soon a realty license, and be a writer, blogger and self-publisher.  I have coffee to thank for my success and really bizarre dreams.  Some of the greatest stories ever written were induced by caffeinated dreams, I’d lay odds on it.  I needed the caffeine to stay awake for all the studying.  I even supplemented my coffee with No-Doze, which contrary to my intent, knocked me out cold. Go figure.  When my two demonic possessed children came along that would not sleep, that’s right, you guessed it, coffee was my constant companion.  People at work wanted to know if my insulated coffee mug was surgically attached to my hand.  Of course it wasn’t, how absurd, couldn’t they see the duct tape? We were inseparable pals.  I don’t cry often, but if I spill coffee, which is a Class I Misdemeanor punishable by forcible Sanka consumption, I would shed tears.

We are remodeling our kitchen and in the new pantry must be space that holds our commercial quality coffee bean grinder, on a remote control sliding shelf, because we have to top load 20 pounds of beans. Yes, I am that dedicated and addicted. Instead of hoarding dried food for the next apocalypse we hoard coffee beans.  We feel it is a safe investment in the event we need to barter.  Should our grinder or the electric grid fail, I would gladly chew on the beans, with a hot water chaser.  That’s how dedicated, committed, and addicted I am to coffee.  I give special thanks to God each night before I go to bed for Juan Valdez, and the rich and supremo soils of Colombia.  For without caffeine, we’d all become a raging felonious mob of zombies.

Welcome to Coffee Chaos Monthly, Allivar Creative Publishing’s newest monthly blog journal.  As a new and committed subscriber to this nonsense, what coffee chaos have you witnessed this month.  Come on, don’t be bashful.

Now please stand and sing with me our coffee pledge (think O’ Christmas tree)

Oh coffee bean,

Oh coffee bean,

I need chest hairs that can be seen.

Oh coffee bean,

Oh coffee bean,

Without you I’d make a chaotic scene.

I feel so lively and high strung,

I’ll even risk a scorched tongue.

Oh coffee bean,

Oh coffee bean,

You keep our bowels really clean.

Have a great coffee filled day.

Man Club – January 2013 Edition (The Female Apocalypse)

Original Doomsday Device

Original Doomsday Device

This month I mentioned I created a new monthly edition appropriately titled Apocalypse Monthly.  There is a reason for this that affects man club members.  This is to coincide with the monthly female apocalypse.  That time of month where women, armed with nukes, would destroy all of us men. The blame for their pains go back to the origin of life and a dude named Adam.  For this very reason, any application to the man club that has a first or last name of Adam or McAdams is immediately rejected. We don’t care if you look like a combination of all of People Magazine’s Sexiest Man and are an immediate chick magnet.  We don’t care if you try to bribe us with a case of beer, your going down into the fiery pits with the shape shifting shadows of horror known as women.  We also check applications for the names of wives and if any are named Eve or Lilith, the application will be rejected as well.

For the monthly apocalypse, we had to create a special section of the manual – 666.  Yes it is the mark of the beast.  Some of you considering joining the club think we exaggerate, but meet our poster child:

screaming-woman

Lilith Eve McAdams
The Beast Unleashed

Never doubt the club president and chief dictator, E.W. Greenlee, ever again.  His wisdom is beyond recall.  Yet he digresses often.  Back to section 666, which is the most voluminous section of the manual and too lengthy to go into detail today.  To make it short, Section 666 reads:

Once monthly, if you choose to live, you must hide.  You must hide for a period of 5 to 7 days.  You must run to your cave, the garage, clean out the pool even if frozen from sub zero temperatures, or run to a fellow club members cave.  You must huddle in fear and practice survival skills and defeat the beast in xBox360’s newest RPG – Hello I’m Lilith Eve McAdams.  You must avoid Apples at all cost, any sign of an Apple can lead to, well, the poster says it all without spoken words – the Female Apocalypse.

If for some reason you cannot run, you must make a stand, learn to be a proud and courageous man and submit.  Yes, you read this right – SUBMIT. Vaccum the carpets, wash windows, bake cookies if you must, but by all means survive. Sadly survival in this modern male world, we must at times, admit there are forces we cannot comprehend or fight.  The Female Apocalypse is one of those situations.  But heed my words fellow members, a new day shall dawn and sanity shall be restored to the lands. For a few days that is.  Then come the Hunger Games, that period of time where babies are the only thing on your wife’s mind.   For this situation, flip the page,

Section 666, Paragraph A states:

SUBMIT, SUBMIT WILLINGLY AND WITH A SMILE ON YOUR FACE.  Tell your buddies you are engaged in the Hunger Games and that no meetings will be held this week.

Learn to make the best out of life’s little apocalypses, they don’t last, they all go Apocabusto.

Golf Indigestion – January 2013 Edition (The Coming Golf Apocalypse)

Squirrel

I was hoping the Mayan end of the world predictions would come true so I would never have to play, or pretend to care anything at all about golfing ever again.  Golfing is an addiction for some of us.  We know how painful it is going to be, but we place ourselves into the fairway for the hopes of a few “highs” of good shots.  In the end, we get a ricochet to our groin, or take down some poor squirrel with a family of fifteen to support.  Every time I play, I leave the course in a disaster with all the divots and craters. Sometimes those that live near the course yell out at me, with fear in their eyes, as I line up for a shot.  They know they are in the line of fire for the end of days. It was a prophecy fooooretold.  Yes, lame I know.

What would duffers do if a partial apocalypse occurred?  Have you ever thought about it?  Have you watched Doomsday Duffers on NatGeo?  “I’m preparing for the Yellowstone Super Volcano.  In the event of social chaos, I’m stocking up on balls and tees,” says Tom Flyakite. Instead of weapons surrounding their homes, they have balls lined up on tees and they get a little range practice in by taking down zombie invaders. The survival kit would include freeze dried Miller Lite and Bud Lite, along with your choice of  Wiseguy Gourmet Survival Nachos, Survival Dogs, Survival Burgers, and if you are truly desperate, Survival Haggis.  Since most of these meals are made with landfill fillers, they are guaranteed to have a shelf life of 1 billion years.

Even though I couldn’t hit the broad side of barn, I know my rebound will take something out, it’s just a matter of launching as many round white and yellow projectiles as possible. You have seen the tennis ball machine that spits out tennis balls?  I have a modified one that rapidly fires golf balls.  The great thing is I have tons of range balls that I have collected over the years for this apocalyptic golfing prophecy.

In 2013, the drought is supposed to continue here in Oklahoma.  We may even tap into the ground water to keep courses green.  We will place a sign in our yards that says “Well Water.”  Well, that’s fine and dandy.  That’s just an advertisement for the hordes of thirsty doomsday duffer zombies to come a knockin!  I’m not too sure having that sign up is a healthy thing.  Golf envy is one thing, water to sustain life envy, is something altogether more risky.  I’m going to put a sign in my yard with all the addresses of people who have well water.  This should give me time to practice a few more 60 foot puts in my backyard.

Should sun flares release a super massive EMPP (Electro Magnetic People Popper) on us in 2013, it is most likely all the electric golf carts will stop working right in the middle of the hottest and busiest day on the course. My god!  We’ll have to walk.  How horrible!  This also means the beer cart won’t be coming around with the nice looking snack lady.  Egads!  What a catastrophe!  There will be so many bodies stacked up at the nineteenth hole, it will look like a scene from Prometheus.

Then finally, the squirrel population will rise to unprecedented levels and we will have  – Planet of the Squirrels.  The divots will disappear and alien squirrels will land to join with their earthly cousins and joke about the human race and their insane games.  Should any humans survive, the squirrels will launch an offensive with all the balls they horded in their nests and tree hollows.  They will not risk the Second Rise of the Duffers – my next best selling novel, along with its sequel 50 Balls of Doom.

Speaking of Golf Apocalypse, watch this pro destroy a simulator.  It makes me happy to know even the pros can cause major financial disasters.  If you watch real carefully you’ll notice a digital squirrel go down.