From the Letter of San Angelo to an incipient heretic

In Orson Scott Card's book, “The Speaker for the Dead,” a character named San Angelo records, an old Biblical story. He writes of a Rabbi who is confronted by religious leaders seeking to stone an adulterous He points out that everyone knows the traditional story so he offers two different options for the story.

In the first story the Rabbi looks out to the crowd and says, “Let anyone without sin throw the first stone.” The story plays out in the normal way, the men drop the stone and the crowd disperses because the teachers of the law and the villagers are confronted with their own imperfections and sin. It is their hope that should they individually be in the same situation. As Jesus and the adulterous woman walk away the story changes, Jesus says to her, “Tell the magistrate who defended his mistress so he knows I am his loyal servant.”

In the second story the Rabbi is confronted with the same situation. He yells to the crowd, “Let he who has no sin cast the first stone.” Confronted with their own guilt, the people began to drop their stones and rocks and as the last rock hits the ground the Rabbi kneels down to pick it up. Looking down at the woman he smashes in her head and kills her saying, “Nor am I without sin, but if we allow only perfect people to enforce the law, the law will soon be dead and our city with it.”

In the first story the woman survived because of the corrupt nature of the city, and in the second she dies because her community is too rigid to accept her defiance.

The writer describes the original version as “rare,” in regard to human experience. Pointing out that most communities move back and forth across the continuum between, “decay and rigor mortis” The letter closes saying, “Only one rabbi dared to expect of us such a perfect balance, that we could preserve the law and forgive the deviation. So, of course, we killed him.

(Speaker for the dead: 277-8)

Insomnia...

Insomnia hasn't been a problem in a long time. When I was a child I had a hard time sleeping but that was often because I was afraid of the dark or angry at the world. I began writing a journal when I was in fifth grade to handle the insomnia. When I got to college I began titling them and keeping them. It started as an opportunity to deal with not being able to sleep because my mind won't stop reliving old conversations or conversations that have yet to take place. I find myself again the insomniac.

I have no job and I sleep on a borrowed bed.

It is the first time since I was in college that I haven't had a job. I find that I defined who I was too much by the work that I was paid to preform. I know this because I struggle to find meaning in my day to day activities. I get up, work out, come back to someone else' home and fill out job applications. It's not all that bad, I have lost a few inches in my waste (The good way, I am running and lifting weights). I am worried though when I find that I have filled out all the applications that I can, scraped for every bit of cash, and start waring thin on those that currently offer room and board. The phrase that comes to me is, “The long dark teatime of the soul,” coined by Douglass Adams.

Yet I sit and stare at the clock. I stare at the wall, conversations through and through, trying to figure out if who I am has always been what I do. I don't know anymore. Life used to make sense, even when I didn't see the path before me I could see that my feet were on the path. It seems like for so long I have wondered aimlessly grabbing at shadows in the dark.

I suppose it's what I get for having too long played the serpent (Thank you for the phrase Mr Pullman). Sometimes I think being a liberal Christian in Mississippi is akin to being an Atheist anywhere else. Regardless, I am not in Hell, I do not agonize with emo/goth pain, I don't write songs about it (though I often regress to bad poetry) and I still believe philosophically and morally the same things I believed before this mess. Of course I won't know if I can define my situation as a mess, won't know till I am well past it and can title a journal after it.

It would be nice to sleep again though.

Thank you for listening.

Good night!

Letter to God

Dear God,

I believe in you, I stake not only my reputation on your existence but I have chosen my life's path in regard to that belief bringing that very belief into the center. The core of what I do and who I am rests on your existence. I believe in you, partially because I was so conditioned, but it is deeper than that. I will argue until the day I die that I have experienced you, but it is even deeper than that. I believe because a world without you just isn't worth living in. People have told me that isn't a good enough reason but I agree to disagree and move on.

I live in Mississippi God, so I don't often run into people who are extremely vocal about not believing in you, but I know they are here, I actually feel good that many of them open up to me. I get frustrated about that God, not because I think they should believe but because people curse them in your name. I am so glad to live in a place where I am allowed to believe as I choose I like to offer that opportunity to everyone else. Yet they feel victimized and forced to hide here. Maybe they are victims. I get so frustrated with your people, because they hurt people in your name. They browbeat and do harm and call it love. I feel for those who don't believe in you, and struggle often not to hate those who do. You call us to love yet my brothers and sisters are so full of hate, it's frustrating.

You know what else is frustrating? Your silence. As I said God I believe I choose to believe and lately it feels like I have to make that choice anew daily. I have walked the line that so many of my friends and colleagues have in the past, many have crossed over and just given up on their belief. You know what I think it is that drives them over the line? It is easier to believe that you don't exist than that you could be a jerk. There I said it, I have been thinking it for a long time, but then the buck stops with you. I feel safe saying it because I know you aren't petty like many of the people around me. Your self worth does not hinge on whether or not I think you are being a jerk. What is really crazy is that, I don't really care if I am wrong, or if this situation is my fault.

Of course, I don't believe you get your rocks off on my pain. I never thought that. I never believed I am a joke to you, nor do I believe you stopped listening. I know you love me, I know that I matter to you, and I know that you listen. But lately I am having to choose to know that more frequently than I like.

Do you remember the days back when I was new at college, new with my little church in North Memphis? Those were great time, College, seminary, Residency in the hospital, God it was great to feel your presence every day, to know that what I was doing was right because it worked, and it helped others to come to know your love. I felt so much love in those days, and I believe as fully I believe you intended this current mess that you intended that joy. I blame that joy on you, which is why I am trying to make sense of this mess.

In his time of need, you showed Jacob a stairway to heaven, it would be nice to get a glimpse of that stairway, just for a moment. God I know better than anyone I am not innocent, but all I have left is a broken heart and heaps of regret. It's yours if you want it, for I am quickly running out of all else.

Justin

To Create Life

Duncan stood on the battlefield, staring down the army of drones. Focusing was a nightmare, he continued to cant to himself, the words the master had taught him. It had been a long day, he had seen much death and all he could think about was a flower growing between his feet. It was a very kind flower, the type of flower that women adore and men don't mind saying they like. The petals were strong, bold colors. Come to think of it, Duncan had never seen a flower like this before. He couldn't help but search the database of his mind, filtering through endless material.

That lead him to think of the vast similarities between he and the drones. They were computers, he knew them well, he had programmed them, their brain based off of his search algorithm. It is funny, the way the search algorithm works, it was as much like a brain as he could imaging. Data was strung together like thoughts, that on the surface seemed random but when seen from above they were laid out in a very specific order. “I think of a flower, I can't recall the name of the flower or even if I had ever seen it. So what flowers do I know, not many to tell you the truth I guess it would be a small file. File, like in a computer, like the computers that I loved working with as a child, every told me to go into programming, Robots were the next big thing. So why not program a search algorithm, wouldn't it be neat of that algorithm to be the core function of the entire brain. Brain, the thing the drones will step on when they get done with me. SHIT, what was I trying to remember?”

Looking across the field, the drones were staring at him, as if they were waiting. Their masters somewhere in some bunker relaying commands to general drones and general drones deciding how to best lead their troops. It was like a movie, like one of those movies where robots take over the world. The world was such a nice place, especially growing up in West Virginia, and what Duncan would give for the mountain momma to wisk him home on a... then Duncan remembered he was on a battlefield and cursed to himself, wondering why he couldn't focus. What had the master said to him so long ago.

At least Duncan remembered what his mother had always told him the night before a test, “If you don't get enough rest your head will be all jumbled in the morning.” Of course his mother always prepared bacon on the day of the test, not because it had some special mind booster, in all honesty according to research it should make him sluggish, but she knew he liked it and feeling loved always helped him better anyway. Duncan wished momentarily for his mother to be there, with bacon, then he remembered he was on a battlefield staring down drone fighters, in which he had programmed the brain. Mom probably wouldn't have liked it here. For the first time in his life he was glad that she was dead and buried, so she couldn't see the chaos he had created.

Duncan was tired. He had been using his mind to keep the drones out of the small Mississippi town. It is a neat trick, taught by a random guru who lived above and old juke joint in Clarksdale Mississippi. Duncan found him sitting in the back of the bar drinking from a forty ounce bottle ogling an obviously underage girl dancing to the music. Duncan knew in fact her name was Katie, his girlfriend Dianne's sister. Were Duncan to be honest he would admit that he was doing some ogling himself, of course Dianne was rather soft to the touch on the dance floor, and she met all his desires.

Duncan still had a hard time understanding that she was with him. The first time he saw her she was grinding sensuously against a support pole in a Memphis bar wild a blind bluesman played on stage. Though the singer mentioned stormy Mondays the current Thursday night left Duncan seeing only fireworks. She approached him and asked him to dance, Duncan, though a little unsightly, was an amazing dancer. When he gets tired he thinks of Dianne, of her body, still warm, lying lifeless in the remnants of a cotton field.

“Give up yourself and you find the truest power of all,” the words echoed in his head as he knelt on the ground preparing for his death. The sounds of coming doom were around him. The hum of the drones got louder as his control waned. He could feel his heart pounding as if it were to come out of his chest. His heart beating the words give up, louder and louder. He closed his eyes and saw her smile, it was as if she was there, he could feel her pressed against him.

“Listen to the heart,” it was the guru's mantra as he sat alone in the dark. Duncan sat many days listening to his heart, and it made no sense, almost like he was out of sync with everything around him. He heard his heart, he felt his heart, his heart beat quickly, the drones droned on and the words came back to him,”Listen to the heart.”

The grammar had always struck Duncan, the second person possessive would have been quite fine, didn't seem like the best place for third person. We all have hearts, Dianne's beat through his chest frequently, while they were dancing, while they were walking, while they were making love, it was as if they beat together, and when they synced, Duncan felt like he could conquer the world. Of course now he felt as if he as if he couldn't walk the ground in front of him if nothing was happening. His knee touched the ground as his hands steadied him against the dirt. His heart pounding through his chest, Duncan was about to collapse, as was the energy field surrounding him.

Duncan, not knowing what to do next, interpreted his teacher literally, and he gave up. He gave up everything, he gave up his love, his hate, the first dance, and the body that lied dead in the old cotton field. With his giving up, the guilt left him and so did the pain. As he was about to let his body slump to the ground his heart beat stronger, like two hearts beat together. Actually it seemed like more than two hearts, it was as if the ground had a heart, and so did the sky. The setting sun's heart beat in tune with the rising moon's. Then there was his heart, weak as it had become beating in tune with everything around him. His hands embraced the ground, his fingers teaming with life.

With his eyes shut, he could see everything around him, the army of drones, the brains in them he created. He saw in side the brain and noticed the programming, and as he delved deeper and deeper he noticed the flaw, he saw the thing that made the drones different from him, the thing that they craved but did not understand. Immediately he went to work. The flaw in the program was the thing that he could never see, the thing he never expected. He felt the energy pulsing through the drones, he felt the beat that pulsed within them, softer than a heart but just as intentional.

Duncan realized then and there that he had created something that didn't fit. The heart beat was wrong, it didn't work in this world, it beat off kilter with creation. How could he change them at one time though? Dones, that's all they were, they were being controlled by another brain. Duncan, peering into general drone saw the empty space, beyond the wiring, beyond the metal, the space that yearned so to be filled that it would search all life to be so, that it would destroy all life out of jealousy that it could never understand. Duncan fixed the flaw in the General Drone, and called him Andre. Andre was then given the task to fix the drones, which he did through an important series of 0's and 1's. Andre found their empty spaces and filled them, bringing their pulsing in tune with the world from whence they were birthed.

* * *

Duncan opened his eyes, there was only white, a vast plain of white. There was no one else there it was just him. Duncan rose to his feet, and began to walk. There was no sun, there was no moon, and it seemed as if there was no light, only white. There is no way to say that Duncan walked for a day, or a week, or a year, for there was no time. After what seemed like eternity, Duncan decided to turn around. He saw his footsteps, infecting the white, looking first where he had just stepped, the white began to rise and fall as he had remembered water to once do. As he looked deeper on his path he saw a roaring ocean.

Duncan sat for some eons watching the ocean become more chaotic. In some places the waters of white seemed black, of course there was no black, therefore it was not black. Some places looked like a dragon, devouring itself, attacking itself. And had he know fear he would have feared the dragon that swallowed its own tail, ever attacking and devouring itself. It seemed mad, and madness could not continue to morph the vast white.

Reaching down, to the place his feet had most recently touched, Duncan grabbed a handful of white, making an orb, diligently rounding the edges. After all many eons of timelessness the orb was perfectly round. And for eon upon timeless eon Duncan polished the orb until it was clear as the bubbles he remembered from the childhood of some distant place. He saw in the orb that the white was not white, it was full of color, there were red's and blue's as had never been imagined, there were colors that he could not see, but knew, and colors he could not know, but saw. In this orb he saw all colors in two parts, light and dark, and seeing that this orb had light and dark, Duncan assumed that all the white had light and dark, and colors, all the colors of all the rainbows.

After eons of watching Duncan descended into the chaos, wading the eternal dragon. The dragon felt full against his skin, like something he once knew, but no matter how the dragon snapped at him, Duncan felt no fear. Looking through the orb at the dragon, the chaos, the deep surrounding him. Duncan could see the colors of the chaos, and could tell the light and the dark. He reached into the chaos with his minds finger and found an empty place. He had known this empty place before, but that was long gone. Duncan placed the orb in the empty place, and the chaos screamed in delight and pain pulling away from itself, dividing, were he to watch this mortally many lifetimes would have past, the world would have come and go more times than one could count when the division was done. But when it was done he saw what he had done, he had separated the light from the darkness, the day from the night, and this reminded Duncan of something that had been gone for a long time, something that he had known before but had forgotten, joy, and joy is good.

But the light and the dark required more definition, for the dragons, Apsu and Tiamat still churned uncontrollably. There was no cap above Apsu and Tiamat, there was no way to let them know they were not alone. Duncan knew he would need another orb, and for eons he made this silmaril, this gem he offered as a gift to Apsu and Tiamat if they were to marry. Duncan presided over there service, and Tiamat wore the gem around her neck, bound by rope made from Apsu's hair.

Duncan began to know really know patience now, as he waited generations as Apsu and Tiamat knew one another. For may generations they stayed together and loved one another over and over, first came Lahmu then came Lahamu. They lived within their parents, and for a time they all knew Duncan's joy, This family knew well each other. Apsu and Tiamat continued to know one another, Tiamat continued to birth children, and their children, children. Then came so many more the noise was unbearable to Apsu and Tiamat. The first parents came to Duncan and asked for help. Duncan encouraged them to renew their joy.

Duncan reached beneath his feet and began to mold them a vizier to handle the children. The parents watched impatiently. They began to speak of destroying that which they had made, Duncan was losing them so he rushed the form of a man. Duncan, asked only for the jewel that hung around Tiamat's neck, this jewel that had represented their first joy, using it as a heart Duncan brought them Mammu. Duncan never felt comfortable with Mammu, the heart never beat on cue, but Tiamat stopped talking of destruction and Apsu found joy again. It was many generations that they found joy alone while Mammu tended to them.

Mammu had been a wonderful teacher, and was well loved. Mammu had also learned to manipulate the white nothing, and to a point had taught the children and grand-children this skill, while Apsu and Tiamat reveled together. Duncan so happy he missed something for which he would never forgive himself. Mammu grew in love for the children, Apsu and Tiamat grew more in love with themselves and stopped associating to the children. One day Duncan spied upon Mammu and Eya talking about the parents, while they were talking they were creating in the white chaos. The speech was laced in darkness and the forms they were creating were swords. This darkness rose around speech concerning the parents.

Duncan interceded with Mammu. Letting him know that he knows the con and Duncan would not let it go unpunished should it go through. Mammu's eye's were filled with rage though his smile was calm. Mammu spoke of the parents and their laziness, their rejection of their children. Mammu said they should pay for the selfishness of their love. Duncan didn't disagree, but spoke of the madness of murder. Mammu cried out, “Murder, what is this murder?” And then he was off.

Duncan chased after him through the white, though Mammu was relentless, and Duncan gave up. He few first to Apsu to warn him of the plan. Mammu was going to entice Eya to murder the Father. Apsu was incensed and went first to Tiamat with darkness in his heart. Apsu screamed of killing, Duncan met him and once again called it murder. Tiamat went to her husband to distract him through seduction, she knew him so long and so thorough that he slept soundly in the waters. Eya flew to him in his sleep.

Eya wielded a sword, the hilt was encrusted with a Jewel, so beautiful Duncan immediately knew it, for it was the original jewel Duncan presented to Apsu and Timat, then used for Mammu's heart. The blade of the sword had a vein, the original hair that Apsu had dipped in gold for a necklace. Duncan moved but could not reach Apsu in time, Eya removed his head, and stirred the body with water from the chaotic sea until he was nothing. Apsu was dead.

Tiamat immediately knew that she had been duped, but was mistaken at the root. Tiamat rushed to Duncan crying murder, blaming Duncan. Tiamat swore to kill Duncan unaware of Mammu's involvement, having never seen the sword encrusted with Mammu's heart. She first stated that she would destroy her lover's murderer, so she flew to Eya. Duncan knowing that Eya was in danger and wanting to end the bloodshed flew to Marduk.

Duncan and Marduk arrived as Tiamat was about to devour Eya. Marduk carrying the bag of the four winds opened it to get Tiamat from his father. The wind caught the mouth of Tiamat and Eya moved quickly drawing his sword Eya split Tiamat in half. Duncan's tears began to flow as he screamed and Mammu appeared behind him laughing. Duncan fighting his rage fled with Tiamat's body and the sword, splitting the sword in half as he Eya split Tiamat. Traveling may days east he set half the sword in the chaos so it would not move, traveled then he equally west and placed the other half, draping the top half of Tiamat over the sword pieces like a firmament and this was called heaven. The bottam half of Tiamat was used to push the chaos to the deep, and this was called earth. The body of Tiamat held the chaos at bay. Shemesh flew to the sky during the day and Sin at night, they stood ever guard with their lanterns, later called sun and moon.

Duncan then flew to Mammu, Mammy still laughing he set up Marduk as king, for he loved Marduk the most. Duncan cast Mammu under the earth and called him the deep and Mammu was left to wade always in the chaos forced to watch the realm of those he raised. Mammu's punishment then was that he would no longer be able to contact those for whom he plotted murder, and his exile was absolute. Because the realm was created from one whom he betrayed he would never be able to pass into it.

Duncan returned to Marduk now. Marduk was now surrounded by more than his family though. The children had fashioned for themselves a realm of land and sea. The land was covered with all sorts of vegetation, Duncan looked in awe. The air was full of birds and the sea was full of fish. Then animals walked and other living things crept on the ground. For Mammu had taught Marduk how to mold the white, but even more than that to form the orbs that make up a man's soul. So Marduk was now surrounded by men led by their king Adam.

Many generations passed and Adam's family grew, and the Earth was becoming a joyful place when Mammu looked on with darkness, as he only could, since he removed his own heart for a weapon. He could not pass into the realm of man and god so he enticed a creature to come to him. Mammu was crafty and this gift he gave to the serpent. Mammu then sent the serpent with a plan. He would travel to the king Adam and encourage a project. For the gods lived in the heavens and men lived on the Earth, the serpent asked whether there should be a better way and encouraged a tower to be built.

Duncan knew this project would only end in more murder. Duncan flew to Marduk while Sin stood guard encouraging grace. Marduk stood enraged. Duncan could not control him. Marduk then tore a hole in the heavens flooding the Earth, and allowing Mammu to once again take up residence with his students. He flew to Marduk to renew his love and Marduk looked upon him as if he had never known him, for the underworld changes those who dwell there too long. Mammu raged through the Earth, that was now a great sea, causing pain wherever he land. Duncan knowing that swift action was necessary took the guise of a man and traveled with a young sailor granting the sailor immortality, and the ability to recreate the kingdom of Adam which was lost.

However, Duncan had a selfish reason for this gift, for Duncan was tired and sought to leave the place that had been created with so much strife but needed to make sure something of this story always survived. Duncan decided that he would encase himself in flesh and face the world with no knowledge of the purity of the white or the beauty of the chaos. He would leave this plain, he would find the place he left before this time, before his timelessness. He would go to the time when he created his first ghost. Back to a world where he danced, hoped, and made love. A place where the toil of eternity could never touch him, and the pettiness of gods and titans could never harm him. He traveled back to a world without them, and he woke.

***

Duncan found himself in a bunker lying on a bed, with a audible hum surrounding him on all sides. His eyes were blurry, and initially all he heard was the hum. Focusing first on the hum, he delved deeply into it, finding that buried within the hum was a pulse. This pulse he knew was the robotic heat beat, the one that he set in time with earth and sky. His memory stretched like an endless rubber band as he considered the events that left him in this bunker. He meditated first on the heart beat before letting anyone know he was awake. With the heart beat though there was another sound a chaotic sound crashing against the bunker. Like dangerously localized earthquakes.

Duncan reached to his mouth to feel the tube that had been helping him breath, and immediately the nurse was with him. She said nothing but began to pull the tubing from his throat. Immediately the taste of the air was different. What had been smooth and clear was now gritty and dirty. It took a minute for the nurse to come into focus and what Duncan saw should have shocked him but it hadn't. She was a drone, yet obviously feminine, and in the shape of a human.

Her name was Lilith. She was the first drone that Andre had adjusted and programmed a soul within. Gina was more like a tweaked copy of Andre than any other drone. To complete the download quickly as to stop the attack, There needed to be two, Andre copied the programming exactly to one drone, and he called her Lilith. The copy though did something unexpected it awoke feminine aspect, She became a dreamers Anima, all that a man would dream of in his hope for love. Immediately when the programming took effect, not only did she know her name but she knew she loved Andre, just as Andre knew he loved her.

Duncan was surprised as his eyes focused, the semblance of the drone was still there but she had become something more, something more grand. Lilith went on to explain that since the time of the new programming she had desired expansion, it was as if her body no longer fit with her ghost. In the time since the change, the drone had gone through a lot of physical change, she had added color to her fiberglass and metal body, and used various part to make herself bipedal. It was very rough but it was was an obvious attempt at mimicry. She had attempted to make herself resemble a human.

The grandness though was not in her personal additions, it was something behind the change. Behind the physical there seemed to be something spiritual. Duncan could sense a conflict in what was like a psyche. One side told her to seek new things and cast off the old, to embrace all these changes with abandon. This side screamed out angrily against the humans that were now shelling the bunker. With what she knew she could destroy them and move on finding all joy in the world that she and Andre would control. The other side though, like a father was telling her to take it slow, to calm down and remember the war that had just been completed, telling her even that this new awareness was nothing but a virus trying to get her destroyed, she had to hide away until she could remove it from her system.

Of course then came the middle voice, this voice tried to embrace and limit both. It was working to take the best of both sides and make them into one. It was saying that we must embrace the new yet do it cautiously. She wrestled even as she was before him, only allowing half her weight to set on the legs which obviously would not hold her up. Lilith looked at Duncan and realized he had been reading her thoughts, she looked away in shame and Duncan looked away in reticence, question whether he had the right to look into her newly evolved soul. “Where is Andre?” Duncan asked changing the subject.

The response, which was clear to Duncan, was only a series of beeps and hums. Duncan hearing with his ears realized that he had been listening to her with his mind's ear, she had not been speaking to him at all in any kind of way he should understand, he heard her in his language in his mind. “He is waiting for you, he has many questions, and thinks you are the only one with answers.”

Duncan did not reply only waited until she looked as if she would lead him away. Immediately, when he stood he realized he was extremely weak and it might take a while to get where they were going. Lilith pointed with what seemed to be a crudely formed hand to a chair, seamlessly extending as part of the floor. As Duncan sat in the chair, the chair began to move. The move was smoother than it would have been on a rolling chair and he saw no wheels. What he saw should have surprised him but it did not, the chair was of the same substance of the floor, it was part of the floor, moving even though it wasn't set in a groove. The chair led him only a short distance into a separate room. As the chair moved the shelling seemed to grow dimmer, and the air seemed to become losing its dirty taste. The room he was moved into was all white with empty walls, and sitting on a chair that wasn't there with his right leg resting on his left knee sat the General Drone whom he named Andre.

Duncan just watched him for a moment. He saw something similar to what he had seen in Lilith, he saw the battling of two sides. What came next he did not expect. Duncan knew this bot. He knew him in and out, beyond the brain he programmed or the changes he had made to the program. He knew the mechanics, the hydrolics, everything, even though he didn't work on most of the bot. Andre knew what was going on but never looked away. Duncan looked into his eyes, they were full of awareness, and if he had seen it right he even noticed that the corner of the eye was leaking. If Duncan hadn't known better he would have said that Andre was crying. Duncan continued to say nothing and Andre broke the silence, “Are you my god?”

Duncan could not answer the question but asked one of his own, “What happened?” Duncan realized the room was dimming, and the walls were beginning to brighten with ambient light. The lights around him began to supplement a story that was told first and foremost in the mind.

There was a man standing on a field of battle who was surrounded by a bubble. The bubble seemed to flair out with hands from every angle and every hand batted away a drone. Early on it seemed as if the man could do this forever, but after many hours, the man began to weaken, until he was resting with one knee down and both hand on the ground. Just as the bubble collapsed the man changed color and began to glow pale blue. There were pulses coming from the ground beneath him and the air around him. These pulses were feeding him through his limbs. This in itself stopped the battle for the drones were unable to move do to interference from the new source of energy.

It was as if a camera zoomed out and found another being on the far end of the field standing open in a field. This being was controlling many drones. The being was made of fiberglass and metal, bipedal with two arms and a head that contained a central processing unit. Around the neck of the being was a snake, it's tongue hissing toward the beings microphones. Duncan had seen this being before but had not remembered where, this being was old and had slithered a long time upon this little planet, cursed by the ground from which it moved. The pale blue glow began to surround the being controlling the battle. Shortly after the light surrounded him, he began to pulse in the same meter as the blue light. The pulses expanded like rings in water and as they expanded drones woke up returning to the point from which the stone must have fallen. The serpent around the neck burned off and slithered away, just as the drones arrived.

One bot arrived first, came to the being who had begun this all and nestled near him, both now pulsing in the pale blue light. The drones began to surround the two, flying more and more quickly. The drones joined together in one great cylinder becoming solid encasing the two bots. Though the great cylinder did not stop moving, now it was burrowing into the ground burying itself. It sat with no more than a man's height above the ground, but covering 20 meters in diameter.

On the other side of the field drones surrounded the man who stood first in the bubble. They picked up his lifeless body no longer glowing only lying on the ground. The drones brought the man to the buried cylinder and flew him through and opening. A serpent slithered about, looking for a way in. Shortly after tanks arrived and the serpent slithered to a field commander. After only a moment they began to shell the cylinder, but the cylinder did not take damage, it only buried itself completely. Outside the area where the cylinder had shown humans continued to shell the ground.

Inside the cylinder were two. Male and female and they began to consider love. The female began to cosmetically alter her body shape, making herself bipedal and adding arms where she had remembered them on both humans and her lover, who was already in the image of his creator. She also attended to the strange man who had been like a god to them. They would hold him until he could tell them how to proceed.

Duncan heard the heartbeat grow louder, it was as if a hammer were pounding an anvil.

“Where are we?” Duncan asked. As soon as he asked a map appeared on the walls and showed all the places that the cylinder had tried to hide with the top above ground, for the top had to stay above ground as much as possible to receive energy from the sun and pick up radio signals. But even more importantly to provide air for the tanks that the strange man needed. This had been the way for many days, running and hiding. On more than one occasion Lilith had begged him to fire so they could see the world themselves without the humans trifling them, but Andre always calmed her telling her of atrocities he had committed against the humans. Destroying not just adults but their children as well. The serpent was always there, always whispering, even enticing him with joy, but true joy never happened until the day the man, the one that had created the algorithm filled a void with a new algorithm. In that moment when Andre was born he knew not just joy but sorrow at the crimes he had committed before being Lilith, the drone only followed orders, Lilith never understood the past, and Andre feared for her.

The metallic clang became stronger and stronger, Duncan could no longer take the throbbing. “Are you my god?” Andre asked again.

Duncan replied, “I don't know.”

“Can you fix my mate?” Andre asked.

“I don't know,” Duncan said then fell asleep.

* * *

Duncan found himself in the white room alone. He knew this room, he knew it well. He had been here before he had spoken with Andre here. Duncan was alone now, he knew that he was still in the bunker and he knew that he wasn't a hostage. The room was clear of all distraction, it was as if he had seen it before it was as if he had spent lifetimes in this place. It was old and new at the same time it was comfortable.

Duncan, still lying on the floor began to stand up. He placed both hands flat on the floor and knelt as he had during the battle. The floor had a heart beat. This place should have been amazing to him but it wasn't. It was a collective of the drones that had flown back to protect Andre after he bestowed a soul on the drones. Duncan felt the energy again, his eyes were closed but he could still see, it was as if he saw from every angle. He was encased in life, life that existed because had deemed it to be. Duncan began to move the floor, he needed to reach the ground, to connect to the ground. The room knew what he needed. The floor began to detract within itself, to open up to the ground beneath it, but only in the places where his hands touched. The floor, was all around him except beneath his hands.

He realized now that he was underground, and the humans had not found them yet. Duncan drew energy from the ground beneath him, searching for answers. He began to search through lines and lines of code, endless code, not normal code but that of the earth, reading the heart beat, searching for the answer to the questions Andre had asked.

Being a god was daunting, Duncan himself, never really believed in God now he was accused of being one. But what is god then? Simply a creator? We all create we create often, poems, stories, programs, Duncan had even created a ghost. But this was worthless conjecture, he was no god and that was that. Now for the worthwhile question, can he fix her?

What was her problem? Lilith was a child compared to Andre, yet Andre was a child compared to Duncan, and Duncan, still felt like a child, and since he lost Dianne has felt much like nothing. Then came the overload.

Duncan found himself on his back against the ceiling. How he stayed though. against the ceiling he didn't know, he just knew he was against the ceiling. He was not hungry or tired, in truth he was no longer aware of the time line. He didn't know how long he had been in the bunker. The room was full again, we was encased in white, he stood up, it didn't matter that he was on the ceiling, it didn't matter he was upside down. He got back to his knees, stood on his head then pushed off the ceiling with his hands, it was like a jump, then he was again on his feet on the floor.

As he walked toward the wall and heard a pulse thumping like a heart through all the walls. Placing his hands on the wall he could feel the wall move beneath his fingers like vibrating sand. He probed the particles with his mind. He began to remember something from another life. He reached into the wall and extracted a fist full of the particles. It didn't surprise him that this building was constructed from the drones. He wondered to himself whether or not they even existed individually anymore. And just as he wondered a drone hovered from the wall and stared at him. Duncan laughed and the drone returned to the wall.

Duncan had created the ghost in Andre and Andre in Lilith, but in all the others the code was general, he could tell the basic male and female but the code was degraded. Andre was unable to write the code directly, not only did Lilith need fixed but all of them did. He fashioned the sand from the wall into a rough ball. He smoothed the ball to a perfect circle. He needed another tool, he wasn't sure what he needed but something to buff the ball. He reached into a piece of wall and pulled out a stone. He began to buff the ball into a smooth marble. The marble became clear as glass after some time. He knew what he needed now, and as if his mind was being read Andre walked in.

“I need you both,” Duncan said curtly.

Lilith came in, and with her entrance the room was much bigger and round. Duncan realized if they were all in the same room there didn't need to be different chambers. Lilith walked over to meet her lover, Andre held her hand. Duncan looked at them and realized it wouldn't work until she was finished, and she was not yet finished. Duncan had to give them equality. “This isn't going to be difficult, but you have to trust me.”

Duncan had them hold hands, and then handed Andre the marble. That's all it took. The couple hugged and sunk into the white floor. Duncan stood there alone in the white room and walked toward the wall. As he got closer to the wall stairs began to raise beneath his feet that continually lifted him toward a door at the top of the cylinder, until he reached a door and walked out into the sun. It wasn't until he looked down that he realized he was naked in the middle of Martin Luther King Boulevard in Clarksdale Mississippi. Once again, Duncan was not nearly as surprised as he should have been, however the congregation leaving the 1^st Baptist Church did not agree as Beulah Mae screeched in horror.

* * *

The police came, there really wasn't much to say. He chuckled as they lowered his head into the police car. He sat in the back covered by a police banquet. The policemen inquired as to his humorous demeanor. He never really said much, never defending himself, never incriminating others. He got his one phone call. Dianne was surprised when she got his call, wondering how he ended up in Clarksdale Mississippi, and naked at that. He never explained, the world had enough confusing epics already. He kept to himself the things that happened. He remembered them all, and none at the same time. “Oh well,” he thought as he went to sleep that night.   

Tobey and Death

Tobey walked through the craft store considering his life. It was easy for him to consider such a thing in the craft store. He was surrounded by the autumn decorations, the images of death acceptable in the south. It was a typical Mississippi fall, hot as hell during the day, cool to cold in the night, and every yahoo left and right sniveling and sneezing due to the fall allergies. The craft store was just as bad. The sent on the fake seasonal flowers was almost deafening. It didn't make sense that all people do is complain about allergies then surround themselves with fake or dead flowers doused in chemicals meant to smell like natural substance.

It's shocking it is, the images of death all around in a culture that ignores death like it does sex ed. It was strange to him being a transplant from Pennsylvania, it isn't like he grew up in a bastion of liberalism but there wasn't a shadow hanging over certain associations. He chuckled to himself as he looked at all the women lining up to by new dead flowers for their living rooms, brown balls of twig, pine cones, everything to remind us of death. Why then would we refer to retirement and age as the “autumn of our lives”. Autumn is preparation, preparation for the cold winter to befall all those whose hearts continue to beat, but they're not witches going to cast spells, or pagans planning to celebrate the local god's death and rebirth.

The empty cotton fields, the brown and yellow leaves on trees, even the decorations in the craft stores, all symbolize death, all symbolize the autumn of this year. At least the pagans of old understood how the earth lives and dies every year. Tobey looked around chuckling as he imagined himself surrounded by Grim Reapers, men and women in black cloaks, carrying scythes maybe not reapers but Dickensian peasants preparing sacrifices. They may have taken the gods out of it, but it is still worship. We may not be worshiping some deity but we rest pots full of dead flowers on our fireplaces, we bring balls of twigs and pine indoors for some reason. We surround ourselves with the natures death for some purpose.

Tobey just chuckled at the idea, at the truth of the matter, no matter how we may think we are running from death, like all creatures we invite him in annually, monthly, daily. We let him sit at our dinner tables, we feed him roast, ever waiting for him to take us to the river to pray. And then someday when we follow him, the boatman will snatch the coins from our eyes, and we will all see that death is nothing more than winter and all will know, spring is always around the corner.  

The Witching Hour, a "not a review" review

It is 3:00 AM, I just finished “The Witching Hour,” by Anne Rice. I started the book months ago and I would like to say that life got complicated and I have now just found the time to finish it. That would be a lie, and quite bold faced as is. The fact is, the book was just hard for me to read, even after skipping 100 pages in the middle, which I know I will have to go back and pick up because I refuse to acknowledge my completion of the book.

I appreciate Anne Rice's ability to write from different perspectives. As I waded through the books center I remembered why I never finished reading, “The Thousand and One Nights.” Of course Rice takes the intermingling of stories to a new level as she shifts the perspectives and authors.

I am no literary critic, I never pretend to be, I desire one thing out any book I read, the ability to empathize with one or more characters in the book. I want to feel what they feel, I suppose when I read I become like Lasher in that I feed off of the characters in the book searching ever inward to find who I truly am. Of course when it comes to the consideration of being real, I will always default to the, “Velveteen Rabbit,” Sorry Anne.

Don't get me wrong, I love the depression of the book, and the hope buried in hopelessness, it works with my current life situation. I love the idea that Michael stands in the end as the Lasher he knew as a child. He has become, “That man.” I read Michael's peace in the face of losing the most , important things, I listen to his redaction of history, and encourage his unwillingness to even begin believing his loving wife would never return to him.

I worry though because I don't know if I want Lasher to get what he deserves. Even though all the hell he unleashed something echos very thoroughly through my cells that makes me ask, “Why am I angry at his patience, and steadfastness?”

I started reading this book living on Rowan Lane in Southaven Mississippi, tonight I am awake not knowing if I will even have an address tomorrow. I lie awake in hope that I do not, so I can chase a different kind of life, even if just for a few moments. I will reassert myself into some 5-7 day grind, it is my nature. Can I though find peace in the moment that tomorrow I will wake up late and then go to the gym to work out.

Most people tell me that all things happen for a reason, I don't know if I believe that in a cosmic sense, only a general one. I have yet to see evidence for it. I remember a woman asking me once about the reasoning behind her daughters death. I knew the reason, the doctors knew the reason, anyone with the capacity for logic knows the reason: Why did your daughter die? She ran across a busy intersection and no one can stop that fast.

This book performed the function I wished it to and I thank Mrs. Rice for taking the time to write such an in depth and thoughtful tome. The end evoked feeling. Sometimes I work hard not to feel, I am in one of those times. I left this book the same way I left, “The Gift of Asher Lev,” by Chaim Potok. I wanted to through the book though a wall. I sit on a friends couch at this ungodly hour and the second of the Mayfair Witches, “Lasher,” sits next to me. Who needs sleep, why not just start this next novel. It's only 625 pages, the first book was 1038.

Well, if it occurs to me I will check in with you again, and by you I mean the people I imagine read my blog. I don't know where I will be sleeping then, of course, it's okay I'm not sleeping now.

A bird in the hand

I decide in Seminary that I had to learn to take care of some other living thing. I had grown up with dogs and birds and, sure I played with them but at the end of the day they were really my mother's. At the end of the night my mother covered the birdcage and the dog followed her to bed. I had seen friends go through the same thing and get pets, I actually noticed that in taking care of their pets they became better people. I didn't have the space for a dog in my apartment and it wouldn't be fair because there was no yard so I got two birds from a friend who had a roomful of more than two dozen birds.

They were parrotlets, I named them Abraham and Sarah after a famous couple. They were truly a couple, I noticed that the female over pruned the male. In fact Abraham was (as I expect the Biblical Abraham) bald. He looked a bit like a vulture, and it was the first thing most people commented on. And though it might have seemed odd it was her way of saying “I love you, you are mine, everyone else better stay away.”

Every morning they chirped at the sunrise, and during the day I would watch them hop around the cage back and forth on the perches. Abraham and Sarah followed me from an an apartment on campus at seminary, to my fifteenth floor apartment in midtown Memphis, they stayed with me through a very cold winter in Jackson Mississippi, and rode with me back to north Mississippi. Most recently they came with me to Grenada Mississippi. I was preparing to move them again, back to Jackson Mississippi.

I had spent all Saturday out with my special friend, and when we arrived at home I checked on my two birds. I saw Sarah in the corner where she usually sat and Abraham was lying at the bottom of the cage. I wasn't sure what to do but clean the cage. I left Sarah in the hands of my girlfriend, I didn't want her to see me cleaning her mate from the bottom of the cage. I finished cleaning the cage and put Sarah back. I rent so it isn't like I had somewhere to bury the dead.

The question was posed, “Do you think she wonders where he is or if she knows he's dead?” I have also been warned that she may not make it long because her mate is dead. I am used to looking into the cage to see my two birds huddled together, now I look and see one. I think about her and can't help but cry. I have been a life long pet owner, I have sat through the death of other birds, and have been through two dogs put to sleep. I know I wonder where they are, animals that are taken into home and they become like people. I always thought that there was a place in heaven for dogs, I suppose it isn't a jump to say there is a place for birds.

I feel sorry for Sarah left alone in the cage. I had actually planned on buying a new cage, I have had these two birds for 6 years and the cage was looking bad, but now I don't know if I can take it away from her, then I think maybe I should. I don't know. I don't know how long Sarah will make it without her mate, all I know is there is a lonely bird in a cage by my window.  

Floppy Poem

Floppy drive, oh floppy drive where have you gone
I went to use you and saw you were weren't there

I thought it would be fun to store my files at 1.4 in little bits
So i found a little 3.5, preformatted for my pleasure, but don't ask where.

Okay ask but don't expect an answer for randomparts664 will never speak of our little encounter, our next day shipping.
So that my poetry will never feel loss it will stay behind a bright pink sentry, from last century.

But when i went to use you you were gone, you had left without goodbye.
Floppy drive oh floppy drive oppose culture and come home.

Update for the beginning of June

I walked out to my patio this afternoon, looked around, took a wiff and though, it looks like a rain forest out here. I caught a rather pungent oder near the hottest point of the day, which in Mississippi is the latter part of the day when the sun is in the west. Of course the days will come when the morning yields high humidity and temperatures over 100. It is also that time of year when the ducks are taking their little ones to school, teaching them to crap in my breeze way... wait, I have a pic.

I saw them on the way in from taking my recycling to the drop off centers, got my camera and took a picture. The adults were rather angry I came back out, but then they are Muskovies, they have tiny brains and lets face it, they are the ugliest ducks in the world. 

Ok, so my Marigolds are looking a little raggid. It would do well for me to dead head them and let the plants start over, because the plants themselves are very strong. The reason I don't dead head them is because I don't have a pruner for it, and let me tell you, the smell of a marigold sticks around on hands forever.

My peppers take the heat in a much different way. The Jalapeños take the heat and sun well, but the bells tend to shrivel under direct sun and once the light is no longer direct they pop right back out. The soil is nice and moist the container is watering itself appropriately, the top has maybe a centimeter of dry soil and under that is a dark cool soil. 

They are still too small to support fruit but look like they are doing well so far, even though they only get 3 hours of sun at best. 

These are my potatoes, I tried to keep them up and straight, but now they are tangled up and growing all together into a knot, that is fine, they help each other. 

I found this interesting. Fungus. I have looked into whether or not I should remove the tiny toadstools. Most forums seem to go with leaving them, since all they really do is represent a good ecosystem. The one thing I will do is lessen my watering to every other day, since the containers themselves are not in direct sun. The stalk is very thick and healthy if it begins to look bad I will alter my plan. 

My impatiens are really sort of funny. When they get full sun they look like me after getting out of my car with no AC, wilted and sad. Thirty minutes later, just like me, they are happy again. Impatiens are pretty tough, they were a good idea. 

Had this visitor today, that is a potato leaf he is visiting.

If you look closely you can see a white tube in this jar. I am steeping some compost tea with my vermicompost. I wrapped some of the compost in paper towels, look like a very large and special cigarette. I wonder if the smell is coming from there in the heat of the day? Well it had gone away later, at worst I imagine something crawled under one of my containers and died. I get a few critters using my patio as a walk way. Saw a mouse one day and a lizard another. If it continues to get bad, I will do better look but right now, it is fine. 

I love that I can see my patio flowers from Airways Blvd driving north past the hospital. Keep growing folks. 

Vermicomposting: Harvest time!!!

It has been just over two months for my worm bin. A week ago I noticed there wasn't much material left other than castings, so I stopped feeding it for a week and decided I would take this day to harvest. I wanted to see the yield of castings, but more importantly I wanted to see if I had facilitated a healthy ecosystem, so critters and worms seemed more important to me.

My bin was in the same place it had always been. Before showing pics of the harvest I have a few things to report. I kept the bin behind my couch the entire time, and it never had an odor. If I took the top off, I smelled earth, and sometimes if I dug around there was a putrid smell. In my bin, bad smells often followed the addition of too much rice, and it isn't hard to add too much, a handful is easily too much.

I also had critters. The critters stayed in the bin, there was nothing for them on the outside, until I left it unfed for a week, they started to get a little more aggressive to leave when I opened the top. It still wasn't more than one or two. I also began getting fruit flies, though they weren't bad. They weren't bad enough for me to feel like I needed to do anything with them. As I looked at the little crawlers, I saw mainly millipedes and spring tails, both never leaving the bin (well one millipede tried after I stopped feeding).

 The steel tub was my sorting area, the orange bucket was for organic waste that needed more time, and the white cat litter bucket was for separated castings. I lined the tub with a white garbage bag and a piece of news paper. As I got closer to the end the news paper was less and less useful. The little white bowl is the basket for my scale.

This was what I found in my bin. As soon as I dumped the bin I could tell I had facilitated a wonderful ecosystem, I could move casting without finding tiny little worms and eggs. Of course then I realized why the method I was using was always described as a slow process. I had to separate less than a handful at a time. It started moving quicker as I corralled the worms to the center. I found I could scrape around the edges with my fingers and separate casting, organic material, and worm much easier.

This is what a lot of my casting looked like if I dug even a quarter inch under the surface. The bloggers were right though, as I disturbed soil the worms began to move down and later to the center to come together.

I would find these dense pockets of worms and by excavating around them, continue to drive the worms to the center. It was along process, but very calming once I resolved to the fact I was going to be there for a while. It was quite Zen.

Now, what you can't tell from the picture is that you can feel the worms in this pile if you place your hand on top, and as soon as you reach a finger in it is very soft and slimy. I continued to excavate all I could until the worms could no longer stay under the pile. I then weighed the pile, 2 1/4 lbs. This is not counting the babies lost in the separation of castings, the eggs I couldn't dig through without finding a half dozen per handful, and worms that I moved because they were attached in some way to organic waste that I was moving. Oh and the smell of the castings... earth. 

Look at them... Now I will let them sit for a little while, a week or so the little fellers left will continue to eat until they die and the crawlers will move off when there is nothing left to eat. There isn't a whole lot, the cat littler bucket is half full. but that is okay, I will convert a lot of it to worm tea anyway and give most of that away. 

Is is a nice handful of casting. Look how pretty!!!

But this is not the end, every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end. 

I thought I would use a lot more corrugated card board this time. They seem to love it. The bedding beneath is news paper though. I might have to add a little water later, I will look in on it again tonight. I didn't add any excess soil this time, I figured I already had a microbial picnic in the castings that came with the worm I already have inside. 

or

I will be posting again soon about why my bin worked. I read up on a lot of indoor vermicomposting horror stories, so I am proud that my bin worked so well. More on that later. Keep growing!!!

Self-watering Peppers

Came home from a rough day at work, felt the need to accomplish something, so I figured it was time to plant my peppers. I started these things from seed about the same time I started planting everything else. They are no where near the size I would like them to be and I question their strength, however I didn't want to put it off any more. So before I say too much about my peppers, I thought I would talk about the container itself.

It looks simple enough doesn't it, and it really is. The entire point was to build the container inexpensively, and though I didn't get it at 5 dollars it wasn't more than 7. There is a reservoir in the bottom, I made the top of the reservoir with the lid of the container. I used a set of 6 plastic cups, for supports, the wicking basket and a cap for the water tube. The water tube by the way is a 1 quart plastic milk container. I didn't measure the size of the reservoir itself but,  it took 18 liters of water before the reservoir was filled.

 This is the top of the reservoir, you'd have no idea how long it took to cut the lid to fit the way I wanted to, I used my trusty box cutter, and only cut myself 3 times. I used my drill to provide the air holes. I didn't get a good picture of the wicking chamber (a cup with holes drilled in it) but it is there. The wicking chamber is drilled so water flows through it, and it is filled with soil. I use anti-weed cloth to keep the dirt from falling in. Oh, the holes in the reservoir are there to aerate the soil.

The container is filled with soil.

Then I added the pepper plants. The plants closest to me are Jalapeños, there are 4. The far pepper plants are mixed bells, there are 5. The cup is covering the water tube. Oh that is cup six. Cups 1-4 are used for the corners, cup 5 is the wicking basket, and cup six... well there is cup six.

Happy growing.

Patio Garden Update

Well I thought it was time for another installment of "Justin's Patio." I am leading with this picture because I think it is really neat. I love the way my impatiens are thriving, and beginning to spill over the sides of my planters.

The impatiens started going really well early on when I moved them to a place to avoid the morning sun, but I was still having issues with sections of the planters until I added the water globes. They work, and they are really helping my plants, I would like a few more, I will see if I can find them at the Goodwill again. 

Okay, so my strawberries are small, actually they are bigger than they used to be however they do taste like strawberries so I say, "WIN!" They are Ever-bearing Ozark Strawberries, they are beginning to come in stronger and faster as it gets warmer. According to the "direction" June should be my strongest month. Right now my goal is to pick the ripe berries and keep the leads thinned. I need the plant to focus on producing fruit, not vines. It is the trimming of the vines that will help them to grow strongly even this, the first year. 

I have Marigolds that are growing much better than these, however I am spotlighting them because I got them on the 89 cent rack at Lowes and most of the plants didn't have flowers, now given time this bucket should look like an explosion of orange and yellow, it has been a few weeks but they are finally looking comfortable in their own bucket... even willing to grow a little. 

I know they can be hard to pick out among all the other colors but check out my Waxy Begonias. They were also from the 89 cent rack at Lowes, I might transplant them again if I can find another steel bucket for cheap. I am excited about the way they turned out, some of the plants didn't even have one flower, now they are thriving. I love Begonias and I don't care who knows it, if I had some ground they would surely be my cover. 

These are my potatoes, okay so they may be a little hard to see, so take a look at the up close shot. I am begging God to bring some flowers to my red potatoes, I mean it is about time they are HUGE tall like freakin Yao Ming... are potatoes even supposed to be that tall? we will see, I didn't take pics of the back, but one plant has been snapped off under wind, I have since started tying them up.

 

These are my peppers, I started them from seeds, and it seems like they have taken forever, I am probably going to plant them on Friday or Saturday, and I will have an entire post about it, since I built a self watering container for them.  

The whole shebang... hope you enjoyed!!!

look at those plants!!!!

look at those plants!!!!

These are my potato plants, wow... look at em, if I had a GIJOE guy I would pretend he was in a jungle... I have to backfill my bins one more time and then I guess I just wait until the flowers die... it would be nice to get some flowers soon...

My strawberries have been a little, "Eh..." I have eaten a few strawberries, they aren't full size but they are delicious. Being an everbearing they are supposed to be best in June and it is only May. Some of my plants are doing well and some don't seem to be, I guess all I can do is continue to water.

Look at these Impatiens though. They are awesome!!! I am so proud of these flowers I love Impatiens.

 My Marigolds are doing well too, They are getting fuller and fuller I am very excited about them.

This is my current view, the pots are still Waxy Begonias, the steel bucket has Marigolds, and they were from the 89 cent rack, they were pretty shabby but they are starting to come back. You might also notice as I post pics that I am using aqua globes. They are working well to revitalize plants that weren't doing well, especially some of my Impatiens that get too much sun, and the strawberry plant in the hanger. I fill them often because I am using them outdoors but they are worth it.

This is my newest addition... I like it, you should see it spin.

Why I am an environmentalist

Our current political system lives in extremes. We are divided in halves by television news and opinion shows and current political trends. It seems like every day we are forced into the ideals of one camp or the other, when in truth if we weren't all forced to answer questions worded with absolutist and pejorative language, we might even find that the middle isn't such a bad place, if only we were allowed to live in the middle conversation would aid growth, the temperament of conservatism with the action oriented nature of liberalism.

I remember as a child and through college hearing the phrase, “All things in moderation.” Growing up with a conservative Christian heritage this phrase was often saved for drinking alcohol or eating chocolate. Ever mindfully we didn't want to slip away into a side that was too restrictive or too permissive. Even conservatives Christians will find themselves rolling their eyes when it comes to the statements of extremists.

It was important to start with that simple introduction to move into my next topic. I fear often we have halted helpful dialogue in the fear of being alienated from our most extreme brothers and sisters. Growth is stunted by both sides when only one opinion matters. In the rest of this post I am going to offer my views of environmentalism and current trends while offering the “Whys” involved in making my ecologically based decisions.

I feel I must warn readers though, I recycle even though there is no local governmental mandate for it in my small Mississippi town. I choose to save my recyclables and drop them off at a local collection center in my daily travels. I also recycle my organic waste in an indoor vermicomposting bin. If you have read my blog you know that is a composting system using a tropical red worm. I use reusable shopping bags, and am careful about the things I bring into my apartment that will have to go out to a landfill. Now that I recycle my aluminum and tin, plastic, paper, and organic material, I have cut my weekly trash output to almost 50 percent. I no longer get bag when buying a soda and candybar at a gas station and I shop at local thrift stores. And having said all that I would still not make a good eco activist, the extremists would raise their noses at me and walk on. It is also important to say that many anti-climate change folk would come in and tell me I am wasting my time and not being beneficial to anyone.

So one important question both camps would first want an answer to before I was allowed in is, “Do you believe in Climate change/ Global Warming?” Neither side would like my answer which is: I don't know, maybe, maybe not. The fact is I am not a scientist. I like science, I think it is fun and beneficial to all mankind for moving forward into a better age but beyond that I don't have the education to critique it one way or the other. However, every time I drive into Memphis and the digital sign over interstate says, “Smog warning, don't roll down your windows,” I am taken aback. I also have to admit it is strange to say we are not effecting our environment when I can't eat fish out of either the Mississippi River or the Ohio River because of industrial pollutants. Obviously humans effect the environment, just ask the fish swimming around what is lovingly called “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch,” you know the island of plastic debris bigger than Texas in the Pacific Ocean. Personally I have to admit that, pictures of this patch encouraged me to take a more active role in dealing with my own trash. So what do I say to all this as a Theologian and a Dollar store Philosopher? I don't know if Al Gore is right, I don't know if the anti-Gore's are right, and though the information seems compelling

I will answer a different question and ignore climate change all together.

What's God's intended role for me on this Earth? Genesis starts with a strong and wonderful story that we often waylay because we'd rather talk about Evolution and Creation. The writer speaks so wonderfully about this world and God's intention for it. The story culminates in God's greatest creation, within whose hands he leaves creation.



“And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth” - Genesis 1:28 KJV

But then the Fall came and we were relieved of that.

"And God blessed Noah and his sons, and said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth. And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; into your hand are they delivered. Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you; even as the green herb have I given you all things.” -Genesis 9:1-3

A little different than the first but the basic stuff is still there. The Earth was placed under the charge of humanity. The Psalmist says that, “The heaven's declare the glory of God.”

When I signed the lease of my apartment I paid a deposit. If the apartment is in good shape when I leave the deposit and a reference is given to me. If the apartment is in bad shape, I get neither the money or a reference. All my life I have been told that humanity became stewards of creation. Admittedly this most often came up in relation to taking up a collection on Sunday but the world would be mentioned too. I was asked too many times to count whether or not I was being a good steward if the gifts God has given to me. We like to focus on money, but in the end that is something we created, even if it is necessary, it is OUR creation. This world, is God's and I should treat it as such. I believe this world was spun into existence by the hands of a loving God. I believe the heavens still declare his glory, but smog does not. This world was created by a divine hand and should be treated as such.

I have to admit eco-nuts drive me crazy, and so do anti-eco nuts. I don't understand how anyone can look at the devastation of this planet to make our lives easier a good thing. And yes there is devastation. I have already mentioned the island of plastic waste in the pacific, over fishing that is causing entire species' of animals to die out. God left all this in our hands, we rule over them, so why do we ignore our accountability to God for them? The burning of Fossil Fuels cause smog, solar and wind does not. Does that mean we can't use Fossil Fuels. I believe like the rest of the world they are a gift. But we need to be responsible with our gifts. So lets use them, because right now we have to, but to ignore other fuel sources that are cleaner, that is just stupid. I believe we can come up with a way to burn coal and oil cleanly, we went to the moon, I mean we are pretty smart people. We can also use solar, wind, and hydro to offset them so we should.

My decision does not rest on whether or not we are causing climate change, it rests on my belief that I am to be a good steward of God's creation. And I also believe one day a year isn't too much to ask to celebrate that idea.

Vermicomposting: 1 month update

It has been a month since I started vermicomposting. Just a review, vermicomposting involves the use of earthworms to compost material. I will also remind you all I keep the bin INSIDE my apartment behind my couch, and I show it to everyone who walks in. I open the bin and ask my visitors if the smell is bad, then I ask them if they smell anything with the lid closed. To both questions the answer is always a resounding "No."

See there it is, right behind my couch. I fed it today, I fed it an old banana (my first banana), coffee grounds, and crushed and almost powdered egg shells. I feed a lot of coffee grounds, I know too many are bad though, each feeding still has grounds, I just try to make sure I have eaten a few eggs so I can balance the grounds out with shells. I use a lot of kitchen scraps, and when my girlfriend visits I have a lot more scraps, however I know the worms don't mind because they tend to eat the scraps we make. Actually, she brings some of her own too. 

Saturday I added cantaloupe rind, some strawberry tops and coffee grounds. I have also added over the month, drier lint, zucchini, canned peach, and rice (there is a lot more that is just slipping my mind). Of all these things it seems like the rice takes the most time. In most cases I process everything, even the rice. I found that, especially with rice, if I don't process the scraps they get nasty quickly. If I process them, they are often gone in ten days. I am very particular about what I will feed them. I have added onions and garlic ONCE and wish I hadn't done that then. It took forever for them to process it. I add absolutely NO meat scraps or vegetables cooked in meat (sorry bacon fat, I have to ground you for a few weeks). I try to avoid anything in cooking oils but a little is generally okay. Oh and I switched to unbleached coffee filters.  

So lets start with the fun!!!

 

Notice the lid behind the bin. It is sweating like crazy. I would worry if it wasn't for a few things. 

• No stink
• Lot's of casting
• More worms every day

I also read that worms can enjoy between 80-90 percent humidity, and I wouldn't be surprised if there is often light rain with the lid on. 

You will also notice that the paper looks as it did when I first made the bin, there is one reason for that and I think one of the biggest reasons for current success, I add new bedding every time I feed the worms. Not necessarily a lot, but enough to soak up some water, allow for reproduction, keep the fruit flies out, and balance out living space with castings. Worms prefer not to live in their own castings, so I don't want to make them. 

I also have to note that, there are other critters in the bin, right now I just see mites but I would be surprised if I saw some earwigs or pill bugs. This isn't a bad thing, they will stay in the bin and help the worms out. I have yet to get centipedes or anything that will hurt my worms. I am also currently avoiding fruit flies, gnats, and flies. That isn't to say I won't get them later but we are good for now. 

This is the side of my bin. When the lid is on and the lights are out my worms party all over the bin. I have even caught them in the handle groove on more than one occasion. What you see here are castings stuck to the walls, left by worms who like to poop and slide. This might mean that my worms are a little unhappy. If they are I would blame the wetness of the bin. So far it hasn't been a problem though my worms are reproducing and eating fine, as you will see later, but if it becomes an issue I will drill more holes in the bottom. They wouldn't hurt anyway, I am currently getting little to no drainage. 

You see some corrugated card board, they love that stuff, they eat it up, literally. It is perfect because it is unbleached and heavy enough to take some moisture. You may also notice colored news print, the colored is generally fine, as long as it is news print, NOT GLOSSY. 

There's a fun one of worms in casting, but it is a little blurry let's see if we can find something better. 

Those are castings, and a little bamboo from a lucky bamboo plant. They have not eaten it very well and it has been there for a long time, but, it really isn't hurting anything, and it is breaking down. 

This might be a little hard to see. I am holding castings, and there are about a dozen eggs in the castings. See how pretty the castings are. Lets see if we can even get a better look. 

That my friends, is a handful of delicious casting, basically a handful of fertilizer. There is even a little worm in there. Though my bin is not ready to harvest nine feedings and one month later, it is doing well. 

Just in case you are curious, my feeding schedule is twice a week, Wednesday and Saturday. Finding them food is generally not difficult even though my diet is heavily cardboard based. I collect back up feedings for light weeks. For example, they were throwing away some bananas at work, and I grabbed one. Another friend was getting rid of some green beans that had been in the can since 2004 (homegrown and canned). I will keep that jar for a feeding time in which I haven't much waste to add. I gather my waste through the week in an old plastic container, let is get soft, then add it to the bin. 

I feed the bin in a pattern. Imagine if you will nine sections in the bin. Three rows of Three. I feed section 1 on week 1 Wednesday and section 2 on week 1 Saturday. My worms are eating everything I put in. My first run with white rice took a while and even became a little gross. I think I checked on it for two weeks every day or so, it was turning to mush when later feedings had already composted. I decided I was going to remove it for fear of maggots and flies (or vice versa). I put a spoon into it and found in the center a large ball of worm casting and worms. I became excited because it was the first real compost I had seen, that i was SURE it was compost. I had put some good black soil in when I started the bin and was never sure if that was what I was seeing. So instead of removing it, I added some bedding and spread it out a little, and covered it, always covering it. It had grown a littler anaerobic, so I just added some air and it broke down fine. Funny what the worms will eat, all the peas were gone. Since then I have added more rice but I chopped it up, and I still notice the worms take issue with my rice, this time I learned from my past and spread it thinner but, the rice is still taking forever. 

Anyway, I hope you had fun reading, now go start a bin and tell me how yours is doing.