THE GLINTY: PREACH

The Glinty? 

Oh hell yes.

Tongues  by Joywave  

“Sometimes, when you have to make an executive decision it hurts simply because no one at the time understands the reason you did it.  But if you show true leadership capability at that moment, then hopefully, time will reveal the truth…   You may be redeemed.  Even if that doesn't happen, (and most often it does not) then at least you can rest in peace knowing that you did the right thing.  That is true leadership.”

---From here  

The Glinty said this:  “We gonna go dig up some old bones.”  From here

  

That was the reason for the huge white truck with all of the tools, and (of course) a massive wench with powerful drive and cable.

Do ya ken, he had in mind to pull Katheena’s powerful car out of the desert dune. 

But what did this mean?  Why do such a thing?

Well, it kinda mattered.

You will see.

The

Glinty

Preach

Here It Comes Again   by the Amazing Snakeheads      

We punks held true to our loyalty.  That was the most important thing of all, simply because it was the only thing we had left to ourselves.

A true nexus occurs only when all of the lines culminate at a point of focus. 

It’s like this:  You wake up in the morning, and when you start your morning routine, nothing seems to go according to plan.  That is there is the first hint of a day of a hundred different things demanding attention, and they all and each go awry.

These are diversions, and they will distract you.  You run out of hot water, your shoe lace breaks, the coffee maker won’t turn on, and you can’t find your keys.

This means one thing.  You will have to navigate the rest of the day by the one thing that you have always counted upon, which is this:

Your own, true instinct.

Hell yes.

Instinct is the thing that has brought you to where are now, and you must not ever resist listening to it.  It is the hairs on the back of your neck, the whisper to check under the bed,or in the closet before you go to bed…

Or, to not turn around and face what is making your skin crawl as you approach your lone automobile in the middle of a dim parking lot late at night, no, you need to run to your car and unlock the door as fast as you can and jump inside and lock the door and start the engine and drive the fuck out of there,

Or even swing your auto around and chase the one who is chasing you.

Or, in this case-

Step back and fight for your life.

That is the answer sometimes.

This was the answer, this time.

Fight for all of our lives.

The Glinty kicked that angry punk down and he shouted at the rest of us.

He said, “Get your shit together!”

Well, my friend, that was what we needed, US, and all who had joined US.

We needed to face impending doom with our own form of doom.

Whatever the cost.

---willies, engaged.

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Wait Through The War  

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All Of US

It was the time of TRVTH.

Such an event occurs when the game has changed, and for those whom have not witnessed the ugliness of what the world will sometimes offer,

well,

it is a reason to open our eyes as a whole.

Clarity and honesty can bring the most important thing of all,

which is this:


Solidarity.


It was time to become United again, against impending threat.


We would bring doom to the desert of Fuckno.


All that we young punks felt, each without a good, clear understanding of the whole picture

...it did not mean a thing if we were left without true leadership.



I guess that I had been waiting for the others in my close group to finally get fed up with our inaction and finally ask for forward direction.


Sometimes, you cannot lead until others want you to do such a thing.



It was time to become offensive.


It meant everything.


They looked to me.



They wanted me to protect and to lead us into the ugly war ahead.





We would prevail.  We had to.





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No One

The difference between the position of Leader versus the potential within us each and all to exhibit Leadership,

well,

it amounts to this:

A Leader is sought/ hired/ elected/ etc.  The position will eventually be held/ filled/ bought, etc.


Yet,

Leadership is the other half of such a consideration.


Such a quality exists in a moment and during an occasion: a situation.



How will you respond to the question that is asked, if you ever have such an opportunity?


Will you do what is right to do, even when almost everyone else thinks differently?  You might know things that everyone else does not, and maybe they should not witness such things.  It would hurt their minds, these things that occur outside of their protective cocoons.  

For US,  we knew that the time had come to make war upon those whom would infiltrate our boundaries and seek to cause the end times to occur.


This was the moment of truth, and we responded.


Do ya ken, we did not worry about how it would all wash out.


Legacy is history written by the Victors.


Victory, however, is sometimes achieved in spite of ourselves, collectively.


You see, true leadership occurs in a moment of strength, at possible detriment to one's own gain/ livelihood/ or even personal safety.


We damned punks decided to do what was right, because it was correct.

We would respond to the threat against our homeland with the force of Sol.


We would leave no shadow unlit.

We would Glint.

We would win.

It remained for the descendants to decide how to write our tale.


Hopefully, they would be kind.

Yet,


Truth can never be denied.




War ensued.






----willies out.

By Any Other Name

Before we head on,  it must be said that this true tale concerns redemption.  It involves a personal pursuit into the telling of the tale, and there are truths that might be hard to share with others.

This is not about encouragement of violence against any one else here on this marvelous tiny blue marble, lost, alone in the eternity of space.


This is all there is.


No true, just and rightful God would order any of his creations to kill any other of his children.

That would be a devil.


---willies out.



Now leave and let the rest of us get back to creating something true, would ya?


Rrrrr

Drive On

Welcome back.

Been on a long walk-about,

so,

welcome back to me as well.



Do ya ken, Sol was not the enemy.



We were the enemy of ourselves.


And yet, there was hope for us all.


Persevere.


 
Emeralda sought her two daughters, and only she knew about the second one.

 Half Mast   by Empire Of The Sun 

Sol judged us from his perch atop the sky and he scorched us with his eye.


I looked down at the angry punk, the one with the mohawk hair that changed from pink to purple before one could view the difference.


He knew things that we did not, and he was not willing to share anything with anyone.

We would have to beat it out of him.


(to be continued tomorrow night)


Oh hell yes.


This is my purgatory,

but it is also my mental salve.


---willies out..







.

0 0 0

If you have nothing left to lose


but for one thing that remains,


then,


you have no choice.


There is no other option but to die fighting.







































Of course you would.

0 0

Funny Little Tragedy   by Gov’t Mule  

All manner of hell erupted in that desolate city in the high desert valley, I tell you.

We had them punks up in the north/eastern desert scrape, and they were dealing with a ghost cowboy and an angry demon.  The punks wanted to head for home, and that ole cowboy was about to say this to them:  “We gonna go dig up some old bones.” 

That would fuck up everyone’s day.

There were them hungry cannibals is the south part of the city (known also as the anus of the desert) and one of them had opened a gate to Hell.  He done this from eating his own flesh.  Them damned immortal Walk-Ins now found a new contagion and it was called Legion.

The last meeting of them Purple Robes changed venues for security purposes, and once there, they would declare war on the invaders, whom they thought were being led by Emeralda.

A three way power play in that Lilac Mansion was in its initial stages. 

The Chairman, the Chauffeur, and the original Cannibal faced each other, hiding behind their own respective facades. They hid greed of power, anguish of permanent loss, and hunger for human flesh.

Now let’s hitch a ride with Emeralda, as she escaped from the Lilac Mansion in a large vehicle that was smashed in the back.

0  0

Hidden churches, strewn and cast like dice across the ugly face of Fuckno, offered glimpses of hope and harbor for her.  But she knew better.  Emeralda understood what it was to be banished, to be an outcast; this from her own volition.

She sought escape from this hellhole with her three little girls.  She would take them to safety.

She brushed the pebbles of broken glass off of the pink blanket that covered her baby girl, and looked back up in time to swerve.  She avoided a bloody woman in the middle of the street.  She knew enough to never brake and turn the wheel at the same time.  You can ask the rubber tires to perform one act at a time at high speed.  More than that and you will lose control. These were the teachings from her supposed protectors.  She had learned form them, and also from her upbringing in the old country.

Her protectors were now her enemies, once they discovered that she had busted out of the rear wall of the massive estate.

She had breached the wall of protection.

She did not need to lose control now.

She regained full control and checked her little mirror on the windshield.  It was clear, her reversed view thought the rear window.  Yes, it was because the rear window was all smashed out.  She caught the image of the bloody woman in the middle of the street, and that woman whipped her head back in what looked like a moment of ecstasy.

The blood came from what she was eating.  She was eating an animal.

Emeralda did not know that it was not an animal per se, but instead, a person.

That would have caused her to lose the remaining grasp of control, as if her fingertips held onto the sharp edge of a rooftop, several hundred floors above the street below.

It would be a long dive, headlong, into insanity, if she knew about the woman.

She raced the vehicle’s heavy engine and sped off toward the home where her other two daughters had spent the night.

Do ya ken, it was her refusal to believe what she had just witnessed that helped her to continue forth and not give up all hope.

THEM

DAMNED

PUNKS

I looked down at the face of the punk rocker with the strange purple hair and he grinned back up at me.

Yes, it was true, Katheena had come back from the dead, and he knew it.

He waited for me to say something, before he would grab me out of the vehicle to kill me.

I shook my head and said, “It’s best if you step back from the vehicle sir.  This will end badly for you if you don’t.”

Fat Jerry laughed and swung his meaty melon back from the edge of the vehicle, and he punched the door.

He fucking dented it.

That was when the ghost cowboy Glinty kicked that pink haired punk in the kidneys.

He was kinda pissed off.  He was shouting and all.

“GET YOUR DAMNED HANDS OF THE INJUN!”

Well, wouldn’t ya know, that made the giant freeze in his tracks.

Control (Midnight Mix)   by Broken Bells  

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BETA for Emeralda

VERSION ONE

In the magnificent Valley of Plenty, there was once no reason for hunger to exist, at all.  

When the Armedmenia arrived, their greed overtook them.

Their avarice, their vices overtook them, and this became the downfall of everyone else.

0

“In the Times of the End; hunger and the eating of those Dead-from-Hunger revealed one of many Truths.   It was this:  The angry Sun cast a white light with black shadows upon the capacity of Men to dig for bones in the desert.”  --Minister Glinty McFlintlock

When The Sun Rose Again   by Alice In Chains 

Emeralda knew this in her escape.  She saw the atrocities.

But you should know by now that you can never escape.  There is no scape goat.

There is simply the entrance to the next part of your own story.

Time is linear, which inherently means that is has one,

single,

ending.

(To Be Continued, of course)

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VERSION TWO

Damned flu virus,  Rrrrrgh.  On the mend

-

Balance: a fine dance between safety and the eternal depths of the chasm.

Why perform such an act?

Well, perhaps it is due to the difference between a life of relative calm, and that of pleasure.

For a Walk-In, there was no choice.

Walk     -       In

-

 

Smooth Sailing    by Queens Of The Stone Age 

Sven eyed his “brother” sitting there across from him at the tri-legged table in the secret chamber.

The Chairman paced back and forth, slowly, lost in thought, looking back at Sven and Christopher every now and then.

Sven snuck a look at the one in pain, and he savored it.  The other man was on the point of breaking.  Such exquisite agony, and not hidden all that well.

But what would it serve Sven to allow his “brother” to completely lose his hold and then bring the eyes of them Purple Robes upon their secrets?

Sven said, “Ahem.”

Chairman Hegan and Christopher both looked over to him.

Sven said, “I think we should eat now.”

Christopher felt and heard his own belly rumble. 

Fuck.

He was infected with the animal desire of the Cannibal, from the one who had infected him with this disease.

He nodded, and at the same time, his ire arose.  Fuck the Cannibal to his own hell.

He said, “Who can eat at a time like this?!”

He spoke a lie, of course, and not the first, but would it be his last?  He wanted his time alone with Sven.  He wanted to show Sven a really good feasting.

Hegan said, “Agreed.  We should not eat now.  I would like to ask the both of you a couple of questions.  Prince Richard, if you will permit?”  He looked directly into Sven’s eyes.

Sven did not falter.  He’d been waiting for a good game.   He looked up and nodded, and smiled.  The bandages on his face dangled from his constant smiling, each from an end, revealing his injuries.

One eyebrow: missing. 

The skin from his cheek: bitten away. 

Blood seeped anew from the loss of the salve.

Sherry  “the Maid” had done this to him. 

Sven smiled again.  Such a face, when it smiles, will not allow the viewer to smile back all that well.

Hegan said, “Are you still high from smoking crack?”

Sven/young Prince Richard sat back and coughed.  He thought about his options.  Yes, the pain from his wounds was quite lovely to feel, but he needed to explain without giving anything away.

He said, “Yes.”

Hegan felt relieved.  To him, it explained all of the grinning, in spite of the pain.

Hegan nodded back and then turned to the older brother.  He said, “Prince Wahunt?”

Christopher the Chauffeur continued to look down at the table, lost in his own pain, and forgetting his new name. 

He had lost everythi---

SMACK!

Sven swung his hand at the face of his “brother” and the smack echoed in the chamber.

Even the bodyguard snapped his head back.  “Whoah.”

Christopher stood up.  He said, “Fuck You!” 

He held his hands straight out from both sides; fingers snarled into claws.

Hegan shouted, “Secure him!”

Christopher hopped back as Sven slipped sideways.  Christopher dove forth and the bodyguard caught him and wrapped his thick arms around his body.

Hegan said, “You and your wife are in this together!”

Sven smirked for a second and then hid his pleasure.  He played them cards right.

He knew it, and so did his “brother.”

Both would have to bide their time,

…each to kill the other.

But do you know, they faced the Chairman Hegan.  

If they would meet to kill each other, they would have to kill the others first.

One:            Guided by Hunger.

The Other:  Guided by Torment.

It was a zero sum equation.

-

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

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+ -

The blue sky is an illusion.  The moon has no air, and there, the stars shine during the day against an eternity of black, empty space.

A single star rules our world each day.

He is Sol, and his eye is filled with judgment.

Emeralda couldn’t find her breath. 

The air left her lungs.

Gone, all gone, except for Two:

Her daughters; one apart, one with her, and nothing else mattered anywhere,

anymore,

at all.

 

My God Is The Sun   by QOTSA   

“We can’t find her.”

The words held in the air as if someone had pasted them across its surface.

Chairman Hegan stood up and his chair toppled over onto the stone floor.  He said, “She must be hiding!”

The two brothers looked up from where they sat at the tri-legged table.  One smiled at him and the other couldn’t seem to focus.

Hegan wondered which one of these men before him had a hand in this.  No one could be trusted.  A high position of power lends itself to paranoia, and rightly so.  One must always guard the door on both its sides.

What he did not know was this:

Both of the men before him held hands in this thing.

They were connected now, one from the other, like a devil spawn.

They were connected by hate

…and by hunger.

Climb as he might, the Chairman would soon find that his ladder was constructed with rungs of air.

+   -

Emeralda drove without looking back.  She was no wife of Lot.  Glass pebbles sparkled in the sunlight like diamonds, strewn across the dashboard in front of her, in her hair, and over the blanket covering her baby.

The rear end of the huge vehicle was crunched up from impact against the high adobe wall, but you should know that adobe bricks are not make from cement.  They are made from mud and straw.

Her world had been walled in with this.

How easy to break out, or perhaps, to enter?  


It was false.  



All of it.

Her teachings back in the old country spoke of it to the youth, and now, she came to understand their meaning.

As she drove south, she saw it.

Car wrecks, people running after others, and none of the traffic lights worked.

All the power was gone.

At first she thought is was a blackout in the neighborhood, probably from one of the car wrecks, but soon, she found that the blackout went much further across the desolate city, as she drove to her daughter.

 

Coming Undone   by Korn  

It entered her mind that perhaps her daughter was in danger.  All of Hell appeared to be breaking loose, and she did not know from where it originated, nor how.

But she knew why.

She tried to push such thoughts away, to clear her mind for the task at hand. 

Numb.

Rescue.

Fear.

Escape.

Was this city isolated in its evil wash, or did it go further?  


To where could she escape?


Where was safety, now?

Such wondering can lead someone to panic.

She felt like her world was coming to an end.

If only it wasn’t that the prophesies could be coming true.

It must be something else.

Yes, that was it.

Nothing bad was occurring.

It must have been the pride of them Purple Robes.  They had caused their own downfall.  They had their dues to pay, evidently.

Most assuredly, that was it.

But do you know, Emeralda felt as if the threads of her life were beginning to unravel.

Indeed.

The threads of reality, there in that desert megalopolis called Fuckno,

…well,

The end times had come.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

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Beta for place holder DO NOT READ

White Light   by J. R. Richards   http://youtu.be/s4VREt2vn7E

Sleeping With A Friend   by Neon Trees  http://youtu.be/BB7R0ZY9w94

(Gayties)

Waves   by Sleeper Agent  http://youtu.be/Hf9rPrpP3GU

(Slowly spinning video, dizzy)

I Wanna Get Better   by Bleachers  http://youtu.be/8twpQTna_9w

(Dunno.)

Thoughtless   by Korn  http://youtu.be/t0keKk18sZE

(Badass)

The Epilogue    by Crosses  http://youtu.be/16ptWIZ36F4

No Home   by Stukenberg   http://youtu.be/dYcymtuIIQo

Coming Undone   by Korn  http://youtu.be/CSJXle3LP_Q

Changing Of The Seasons   by Two Door Cinema Club 

My God Is The Sun   by QOTSA   http://youtu.be/-90obSa1Az4

Brass Tacks  by  Not In The Face   http://youtu.be/rK9Ebx5zgUY

(Gay bikers, blecch)

VERSION ONE

The blue sky is an illusion.  The moon has no air, and there, the stars shine during the day against an eternity of black, empty space.

A single star rules our world each day.

He is Sol, and his eye is filled with judgment.

Emeralda couldn’t find her breath. 

The air left her lungs.

Gone, all gone, except for Two:

Her daughters; one apart, one with her, and nothing else mattered anywhere,

anymore,

at all.

My God Is The Sun   by QOTSA   http://youtu.be/-90obSa1Az4

“We can’t find her.”

The words held in the air as if someone had pasted them across its surface.

Chairman Hegan stood up and his chair toppled over onto the stone floor.  He said, “She must be hiding!”

The two brothers looked up from where they sat at the tri-legged table.  One smiled at him and the other couldn’t seem to focus.

Hegan wondered which one of these men before him had a hand in this.  No one could be trusted.  A high position of power lends itself to paranoia, and rightly so.  One must always guard the door on both its sides.

+ - +

Fear.

Shock.

Escape.

Numb.

Song For Isabella  by Stimming   

Birds chirped in dew-sparkling palm trees that stood tall against the bright blue sky.  The desert air of the Central Valley lent itself to aridity, but the night held a mist of cold in its fading arms.

Sunlight warmed the cracking, faded asphalt of the street, making ants scurry more quickly.  Brown adobe bricks in a long, high wall grew lighter as they warmed and dried in the fresh air.

The thin whine of cicadas and heat bugs declared another hot day ahead.  Their buzz grew louder and louder until it became a howl.  Dogs in nearby yards began to howl along with the heightening whine until a cacophony of discordance culminated in an explosion of adobe and hard plaster.

A Chevy Suburban smashed out onto the street in reverse, then swung around and sped forward, hopping over the jumble of bricks and dust strewn across the road.

Emeralda did not look back.

+ - +

Inside the Purple Mansion of them Robed figures from Armedmenia, alarms awoke anew.  Lights flicked on along a map on the wall beyond the bank of security camera video feeds, each in a small black and white television.

One light showed that the garage was open.  Motion sensors announced that motion had occurred in the far-off back quadrant of the expansive estate. Another light showed something quite odd.  It was from the rear wall itself.  The wire inside of the wall had been cut.  This meant only one thing.  The wall had been breached.

The Chairman looked up as the bodyguard pulled out his radio and said, “Come again?”  His earpiece fell out of his ear so whipped the cord out of the plug.  The radio squawked. 

A voice said, “We have an intruder from the North East.  A wall appears to have been opened.  This is Lock Down.”

The Chairman shook his head.  He said, “Call the meeting of the Heads off.  This is not safe for them.  We will need to meet at the Armory.”

The bodyguard relayed this information as the Chairman looked back at the other two who sat across from him.  He said, “We will need to close up, compartmentalize.  Guards at every door, outside and within.  After we find the intruder, then we will leave.”

Sven smiled back at him, and Christopher kept mumbling.  He was saying, “Gone.  Gone…”

He was correct.  His real wife was gone form him forever, and now, the wife of the man whose body he inhabited had also flown the coop.  No one knew that yet, and this lent her time to escape without detection.

+ - +

Workers poked about the charred walls of the staff lodging.  The communal room leered a gap-toothed grin from its missing doors on each wall.  Blackened bodies lied in various positions of pain and prayer.  The darkest part of the day was over.  The supply closet still smoked, and within it, on the floor, lied the crisp body of the woman who had started the fire.

The maid had been overtaken by a the soul of a vindictive woman.  That one sought revenge for the death of her man, Lenny Sustenuto.

Lenny had opened the Gates of Hell.

Sherry did not know that Lenny walked, as she did, along the eternal plane of the Walk-Ins.  If she had, she might not have caused so many to perish in such a horrific manner.  But now, she was without the only one who loved her, and she was without her own body.  She had lost everything.  No one deserved to have anything of their own.  She would find the man who had taken everything from her, and she would kill him a thousand times.  She figured that she could follow him after she killed him, to see where he next would Walk-In.

She was correct that this was possible.

What she didn’t know was that an army of Walk-Ins was growing in that hellhole called Fuckno, and soon, unconscious bodies to inhabit would become a rare commodity, for all.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out

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Word about Evil Characters

If you want to know how to write about evil, then you have to dance with it.  Writers may talk about characters, and discuss how evil is not real; that it is a construct of religion and morality and ethics, but for the purpose of writing, nothing suits us better than to explore this thing.

To dance with evil is to explore an area inside you, inside each of us all, that we all share.  What sets us humans apart from undomesticated animals is that we control our innate impulses.  Sociopaths may not have this tool. 

What is it that frightens you most?  It may different for each of us, and whether it is due to nature vs. nurture is beside the point.  We can talk about writing, or we can use words as tools, those colors of our palette, to reveal to ourselves what it is that we fear the most.

When you work at digging deep in the boneyard, then others will be drawn to your honesty.  Writers may be telling a story, but a tale that reveals the truth about ourselves rings true, like a bell. Others will see this as bravery.

Otherwise, we are writing on the surface of a lake, instead of diving into the dark depths.

Your antagonist should contain those things you fear.  Reveal to your reader your fears through the evil character. Your protagonist should fight those fears, win or lose.

Or not.

---willies out.

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