Throughout the annuls of time there have been those that seek to aggregate the human being into an enlightened, pristine, flawless creation, an almost perfect living specimen of life. I’ve noticed that these scholars and analysts seem to almost entirely dismiss the naturally destructive side of the human animal. And I want to stress that last descriptive word; animal. Now I’m not even including killing and war in what I have observed as the naturally destructive aspects of human kind. Just in simple living habits, needs and wants, do we operate destructively. Little things, like building shelters that kill areas of plant, wild life and resources under and around them in their creation. We kill bugs to grow food, or animals to eat meat. This becomes all the more destructive the longer it goes on and the more humans that exist in mass upon the Earth. Now I know there are those that will argue that organic veganism solves that, or eco-friendly sustainable housing solves the other. I would put forth, without going into detail, that those methods of coexistence are only a slowed down, more sustainable form of destruction that propagates the selfish desire to live with a lesser amount of guilt.

Reality is that very, very, little of our mass population actually practices those less damaging forms of living in part, and certainly even less practice it in whole. Since this seems to be the case as the world expands, and even though more and more work towards a less harmful way of living progresses as we journey into the Tomorrow World, more and more are born into just the plain need to survive and stay alive at any cost. How can we be this wonderful creation (or evolutionary achievement) of life when we are so completely toxic to the natural world that sustains us? Our waste, our actions and reactions are almost totally self-serving in the general since, even to the disregard of our own destruction. I will not begin to discuss the ramifications of our mental degradation; the deep ugliness that exists inside each and every human mind is a book on its own.

So where is this utopia that is coming? Where is it seen and in what form? When did it ever exist? Why is it even considered as possible? Or dreamed up as existing in form or conscious?

The Intellectual and Spiritual community does humanity a great disservice by propagating such perfection within a perfectly flawed reality. As Science advances, we hear constantly that humans can live longer, healthier lives, that we can be safer, that we can even avoid death. Why is death looked upon with such fear and disdain? Death is a necessary function of the beauty that is a finite life. If no one dies, then eventually no one can be born; and if humans live longer lives then certainly fewer can be born.

If we cure all diseases, if we make everything out of rubber so that we bounce around inside a cocoon that keeps us free of harm, does that solve our fear? Death is a doorway, an evolutionary necessity, a need to be obtained for all living things.

To teach children that death is terrible, that we are constantly exquisite and wonderful, is to severely misguide them. To pamper and spoil them, to act as if they should never have to work, never have to fight, is to blind your children to the realities of their environment that you want them to excel in. There is a side to living that is considered dark and painful, and we fear it. There is beauty in the honesty of accepting it as a part of the whole truth.

Teach your children to work; just as well as you teach them to have fun. Teach your children to fight; just as well as you teach them to love. Otherwise you blind them to the reality of a truly honest and beautiful living existence.



Interested in some deep space jam music, orchestrated through the crunch of heavy metal thudding? The band Mastodon has mastered this sound along with lyrics that bestow cosmic significance and anomalies. This video from their most recent album; Crack The Skye is complete with rock band flailing in space/time motion, prehistoric tribal sacrifice and earthly monstrosity. The song is called Divinations and its video is highly entertaining, but mostly I am using it to introduce their music to you. Mastodon’s best songs are too long for video and are original composed pieces that are conducted by musicians that have mastered their craft. The intensity that they exude can be considered mind-blowing. They are heavy and dark but not depressing and gloomy, or even satanic. They merely suggest that there is a vast and complicated multi-verse built of age and wonder that tugs at the human soul and imagination. They easily express these notions with their great writing talent.

Divinations is very entertaining with its comic book expression and portrayal of rock guitar power. As with all the “Music In Motion” posts; smoke it if you got it (or can) and watch it in ‘full screen’ splendor. Click the link and enjoy:



The Instance Is Relevant (The Transmogrification Continuous) Part VII

“How can Humanity abruptly metamorphose from ingrained ignorance to battling a foe the likes of those bizarre creatures? They are formidable on extreme mental and physical levels.”

“You underestimate the great strength of the human will and its ability to adapt, to grow and learn quickly. We will…”

The lights in the room go out as a fog horn like siren begins to wail. Flashing white lights blink rapidly and the many screens go dark and then red in unison.

“Warning! A breach in Mehalus Nucleus. Restriction has been trespassed,” repeated throughout the hall by a monotone female voice.

Ottymer moves closely to the side of the Ladies as they form a standing meditative posture and shut their eyes. There is an intense energy and a soft glow that emanates from them. Lendal and Tanner can feel it deep inside them; it is euphoric and fluttery, warm and soothing. As Lendal generates appreciation for this strange experience, something else stirs inside him. A slight but sharp pain and then a growing nausea that starts to intercede with the euphoria. His stomach muscles tighten up and cause him to lurch forward at the waist. He places his hand on his stomach as another sharp pain flashes in his head right above his eyes. The euphoria generated from the ladies powerful meditative state is all but dissipated as a heavier feeling of desolation and gloom takes over his being. His back aches and the muscles in his neck and shoulders tighten; he has become dizzy with nausea and has trouble keeping his balance. An intense surge of pain wracks his body and Lendal lurches forth once more, vomit spewing from his mouth onto the floor before the Ladies. Ottymer quickly steps to shield them from the disturbance. However, it appears to pass unnoticed by their congregation, failing to interrupt their immersion.

“Take hold of your friend, blond one,” Ottymer bellows. “He must not interrupt the Ladies communication!”

Tanner hurries to his friend’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist, and pulls him back a bit from Ottymer. Sweat is now pouring from Lendal as this powerful feeling overtakes him and vomit once again spews violently from his mouth.

“Are you alright, buddy?” Tanner asks, deep concern marking his brow.

Lendal cannot answer; he can feel his consciousness being devoured by desolation and gloom. Something sentient is stirring within this feeling. Something wresting control of his body filling him with an extraordinary sensation of power and strength. The nausea and dizziness are gone, and Lendal stands erect pulling himself violently from his friend’s embrace. His eyes become black and he focuses in on Ottymer bringing his hands together, prayer like, before him. An intense surge of power wells up within him and pushes forth through his arms into his hands. The inertia of this force moves him forward, arms out. The air about him waivers and rolls as he moves quickly to stand before Ottymer. Instantly he pushes his hands and arms into a stunned Ottymer’s chest, with remarkable smoothness and incredible metamorphosis he is buried up to the forearms without ever breaking the skin. Ottymer cries out in pain and horror as Lendal pushes his arms outward, pulling them apart. The skin of Ottymer’s chest stretches and bleeds and then rips apart and cracks open. The sound of bone breaking sickens the surrounding people as they watch in shock and terror. Ottymer cries out in agony, grasping his attacker’s arms in a vain attempt to dislodge them. The Ladies eyes snap open in horror, in time to witness Lendal pull Ottymer’s chest apart with a last sudden triumphant shout, blood and bone splattering upon his face and clothes.

Tanner is stunned and backs away from his roommate and the gory mess that is Ottymer upon the floor. Lendal is breathing heavy and fast, drool frothing at his lips as grunts and growls escape his mouth. His arms are rigidly out to his sides slanted at an angle, the hands chiseled into claw-like forms. His black eyes fix gravely upon the Ladies and he hunches down before them.

“What thing is this that now stands before us?” ask the Ladies, moving their arms before them and placing the palms of their hands together. The crystals around their necks increase in luminosity and they focus in on Lendal’s aggressive stance. “You are no longer the young man whom was helping us earlier, what are you?”

“Warning! Defenses for Mehalus Nucleus have been overpowered. Destruction of Mehalus Nucleus eminent!” The warning blares from the speakers around the hall. The Ladies concentration breaks; visible concern illustrates their body language, and Lendal leaps to attack. He is flying in the air, above the Ladies with inhuman agility, and coming down upon them. The Ladies crystals grow blindingly bright and then release a force of multifarious energy flashing with colors that envelops him, slowing his decent for a few seconds. However, it is not strong enough to stop him and he is upon them. His left hand grasps the top of the skull of the Lady on the left and his other clawed hand swipes through the face of the Lady on the right, sending her reeling back from the blow. He pulls down the Lady within his grasp by her head to her knees, with strength he should not possess. He then moves his grasp to clench her hair and violently yanks her off her knees and to her belly. She screams in pain and grips his wrist with her hands, vainly attempting to remove his iron grip. The other Lady is upon her feet, large bloody holes in her cheek from where his fingers entered her. She places her palms together again, drawing various forms of energy from her crystal into a solid potential force of shifting colored light encompassing her hands.

“Release her!” she speaks alone, her voice harsh and course, weaker. Lendal is a snarling animal of ferocious nature, most likely having lost his intellectual ability to comprehend speech. He sinks his right clawed hand into his captives face. “No!” The standing Lady releases a cannonade of might and momentum that bombards into him throwing him back off his feet and onto his back, a large clump of black hair in his left hand and skin and blood upon his right. Blood pours from the Lady’s face as she manages to rise up upon her knees. A matt of blood and hair sits upon her head and the skin has been removed from the left side of her face along with some flesh, exposing the muscle and the sclera of the eyeball. She is dazed and half conscious, moaning softly in pain. Lendal bounces off his back to his feet instantly, and leaps into the air toward the Lady that attacked him. She is drawing energy from the crystal as quickly as she can, but he is on top of her before she can complete the transference. He sinks the fingers of his hands into the sides of her face and his black eyes lock into hers.

She is not as strong without her sister and the power of this fiend overtakes her and her mind is now under its control. The profound but beastly face of the creature that had accosted Lendal, consumes her mind’s eye. Its leathery lips move to form the strange words of its language, moving eloquently over its fangs in a deep resonating mellifluous voice. Its white hot eyes hypnotize her being with their depth, she is witness to mass in dimension and time, twisting and turning through form and consequence. She can understand its speech in some way.

“As you have discovered, our world has come under grave danger and it is time to transport once again. You have brought us here. When you activated the Mehalus Nucleus, as you call it, of this world and it reverberated throughout the entity. The instance is relevant. This world can be what we desire for existence. It is pure and can be subjugated, formed and fashioned to become as we need, much as your race has already begun. We will manipulate and construct at a faster rate for we are one in goal and direction and we have done as much many times before. Your race will aid in its construction and reformation, although most will be eliminated. Once our world is completed we will decide whether to begin the extinction of the Human race or allow your existence to continue on another hospitable world. We knew from the beginning how the spaces would move and where the beings would transverse. We now control the Mehalus Nucleus, your power is ours. You will now be deconstructed to energy form and sent to rejoin the essence of the entity to be reformed elsewhere. We know that you understand, whereas much of your race will not.”

The creature releases her from its mental clutch. Tears come to her eyes and stream down her face. Lendal has his fingers still deep within her flesh, his black eyes blank and hollow. “We have failed. With our finest hour at the precipice, we have failed.” It is hard for her to form the words with the boy’s fingertips rubbing against her jawbones, but the desire to vocalize her despair overwhelms her. The Lady cries out as Lendal pulls his fingers from her, and blood flows from the open wounds. She gasps for air and collapses to her hands and bends her head down, breathing heavily and sobbing. He then places his thumb upon her temples and fingertips along the sides of her cranium and slowly pushes his fingers into her skull until he can feel the squishy gelatinous matter of her brain. As she sobs in sorrow and pain, he pushes his fingers in through her brain until his fingers meet and then with a fierce triumphant cry, Lendal’s possessed person pulls her head apart as blood, flesh, bone and brain matter splatter upon his face and chest. Her empty husk falls to the floor.

He immediately turns and walks with direct purpose to the half conscious and dazed form of her sister, whom is losing copious amounts of blood at a velocious rate. He pulls her head back to expose her neck, sinks the fingers of his other hand into the skin and grips her trachea and esophagus, easily yanking them out. As her body heaves and convulses in vain attempts to draw oxygen, Lendal is quickly returned to repossess his body. Horrified at what he sees, and somehow knowing that he is responsible in some way, he falls to the floor and begins to sob. He stares at the fresh blood on his hands.

"What have I done?"