Chinese at my Apartment

This is something of a Bookslinger tribute...

I came home at the close of a long YSA fireside about going on a mission (check) and getting married (not-check). I met a man of Asian decent at my apartment, it turns out he lives there/here and has being doing so for the last few months. My flatmates come and go with such frequent regularity that I often lose track. By chance, or possibly uncommon foresight on my part, I happened to have a Chinese Book of Mormon in my room for just such an occasion as this. I casually approached the gentlemen, his name is Ricky, and offered him the book. He said "Thank you."

an important engagement

Loren walked purposefully toward the employee loo avoiding eye contact, tucking his novel unobtrusively under his armpit. Loren completed at least three good books a year while dropping a deuce. He was happy to be reading The Wind up Bird Chronicle, but thought he may be stretching the servant/master trust to breaking point by turning rest stop time into fun time (and prolonging an already lengthy engagement). There was no obscene graffiti to occupy his attention, these toilets were always kept pristine, so he felt somewhat justified in supplying his own material.

After finding a comfortable position, his meditative focus was disturbed by an incoming cubicle compatriot. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a noise? Loren didn't know, but he preferred to not have anyone hear his noises. The bodily ones were bad enough, but to be caught reading on the john at work, oh the embarrassment. Loren froze for a time, then after an uncomfortable silence came sweet relief: the sound of rustling pages from the adjacent potty. Free to read, free at last, oh my people, free at last.

35.

"The universe blew up, that was a long time ago, though." Said Ditie, a wing clipped pixie.

"here, here I remember it well, hasn't stopped ever either." said Bilix an offensively ugly former super model.

"Can you order me another round Bilix, I forgot me wallet."

"That old gag, sure thing ya hopeless little twerp."

"You got a heart of gold. I ever tell you that. Like I was saying big huge explosion from a pea. A pea! Princesses haven't slept too well ever since."

"What are you getting at. There's some connection between the beginning of the universe and fairy tales?"

Javier, the barperson came and refilled Bilix and Ditie's mugs.

"There's a connection between the beginning of the universe and everything Bil, don't be silly. What I'm saying is that it's all totally ridiculous. Look at me, I don't even exist, yet I'm here. I'm a pixie without wings, that was a good song someone released once, I think."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

"No, it's true. Whatever that means. The insides of the pea are expanding taking on all these different illusory forms. One day it'll all collapse and maybe if we're lucky it'll start over. The universe wants to *%^! us over"

"Ditie that's the worst story I've ever heard."

"Yep, lets watch some TV and try not think about it."

The indefatigable bartender, without the need for any explicit instruction walked over to the TV, turned it up and this from the box: "There've been reports of an out break of frogs, citizens are advised --"

Ditie cut in "I told you Bilix, ridiculous."

for the hell of it

I have pushed through the wall and entered full on gym addiction. Feels good, feels real good.

dead hang pull ups (99kgs)/6*4
seated row 70/4*8
OHP 40/2*10

volume: 5416kgs

34.

"What the hell's going on here I can't move."

"We can't move. Who am I? Why am I here? Who are you?"

"OK, I'm now talking to myself in my head and someone's actually answering with some *%^@# up existential questions. Wake up Daly, wake up!"

"Something's different, something's wrong!"

"You bet your ass sister. What are you doing in my head? Got to snap out of this insanity."

Daly felt as if his mind body connection were slipping uncontrollably away. He commanded his right had to move, anything to move, and yet he lay there motionless. It was the most terrifying moment of his life. Finally as he gave up on hope all together, his right pinkie twitched. He opened his eyes.

"I'm back."

"We're back"

"Oh, s&*%"

33.

The bald man walked down a corridor muttering to himself, a bad habit he'd developed over the years."I am a singularity in the space time continuum of life. I am the Robinson Crusoe of post-modernity. I am the missing link in the horror that is the Human Genome. I am your brain on imaginary magic mushrooms. I am..." He pushed a button unlocking a heavy set steel door "...very happy to see you Mizz Canada."

Canada looked up, she wasn't impressed.

Just call me Mr Clutch

I play for a social league basketball team at Auckland University. I don't go there anymore for study, but I just can't stay away from the place. The gym facilities are top notch and they're usually populated with attractive females, but that's not why I go of course, just mentioning it because it's something I've innocently noticed as I've gone about my business. Yesterday we, the banally named Wildcats, played last semester's reigning champions: The Fab 5 (there's at least 10 of them). Having just come off a loss against a truly insipid group of players we didn't rate ourselves much of a chance to come away with the win. The game started with us winning the ball and one of my teammates kindly feeding me wide open in the post for an easy bucket... and the foul. I can honestly say I've never heard the type of reaction that ensued because of a three point play after I completed mine. The crowd was in hysterics, sure I went about 1/10 last week from the line, but it was still a bit much. It felt like I'd just won a gold medal at the Special Olympics.

As the game went on I kept hitting free throws (the crowd progressively less impressed with each successful attempt). We kept within about 5 points of them the whole time until the end, when we took the lead by three and they hit a three to send it into overtime. This comp squeezes 4 games onto one court in one night, meaning corners need to be cut for the sake of time management and so we play running clock, a terrible horrible dreadful thing, but necessary nonetheless. Overtime was a hearty 2 minutes with team fouls being carried over from the previous period. Both teams scored a basket each and then I got fouled with 15 seconds to go, with the Fab 5 in the penalty. I confidently stepped up to line, went through my routine and bricked the first, this seemed to loosen the tension in the arena a little. Crazy old Loren, that's more like it. My teammates offered words of consolation "we'll emasculate you if you don't hit this next one." It was settled then. The time on the clock expired. All I had to do was hit one foul shot and we could go home. As I went through my pre-shot ritual, several thoughts went through my mind. I'm tired lets get this in so I can have a breather. I wonder what Shoalin temple's like. Emasculation. Win the game. Do it for my hommies in the gangstaleen. Never divide by zero. Finally I decided: lets not worry about any of that there's the hoop there and here's the ball going through it. We won the game and none of the bastards in the crowd cheered.

Today...
Bench 75/15*5

volume: 5625kgs

Then I went to McD's and had a mean feed.

"I'd like to share a revelation..."

Revelation is an important part of LDS living. Although it cannot be reduced to anything close to being scientifically verifiable, it is nonetheless a part of our lived (yes, even my lived) Mormon experience and unfalsifiable on those grounds. This may seem a convenient claim, on our part, in the mind of the skeptic, but it remains an important part of religious life in the hearts of saints worldwide.

Revelation is often accompanied by the feelings described in the book of Galatians "love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law." Say what you will for qualia, or the correct neurons firing in my hypothalamus or wherever I'm not sure where or how it all operates, experiencing the sublime is sometimes vague and profound all at once, it's just another one of the infinite paradoxes of life (lets leave this aside for another time).

What I'm interested in is personal revelation. Dalin H. Oaks says there are two channels through which we receive communication from God. The hierarchical vehicle which accounts for many (some might say all) the churches policies and then there is the direct line wired into each of our souls. Now I am of the mind that when we touch or are touched by God -- according to Newton's third law you can't really have one without the other -- that we don't just instantly become puppets rattling off whatever is dictated to us. Fist of all, it rarely seems as if any particular words are being dictated to me at all. Secondly, my Patriarch speaks broken English and I unsurprisingly received a patriarchal blessing in broken English. Thirdly, this model of personal revelation equals us plus the promptings/sensations of the spirit, seems to make sense of why the Book of Mormon is written in the style that it is (i.e. King James English).

Well, as we start to recognise the Spirit what happens when revelations collide? When the Hierarchical and Personal disagree? That is for each of us to decide in our time and in our own way. We are instructed to follow the Brethren and we are also instructed to find out for ourselves. When facing this tension, it may be important to remember that personal revelation trumping all else is implicitly built into Mormonism. When we accept the Book of Mormon as the word of God, we also accept that we may one day be moved to decapitate another person and that if we follow through it will have been the right thing to do.

Perhaps I've gone too far...

32.

At the age of 5 on one of her first days at school Melanie managed to get her self stuck in the nook of a wish bone branch in a birch tree. The bell sounded signalling the end of recess, another little girl whom she'd only just met told Melanie that she'd go and get a teacher to help out. Perhaps an hour later her own teacher came to the rescue, with the rest of her classmates on hand to witness the event. She didn't feel annoyed or even angry as she waited longingly for some one to save her from the clutches of that malevolent tree, but inspite of the minor emotional viscitudes that occured during her stay there this particular memory stood out as one of the most vivid of her childhood. She couldn't remember the name of the girl who failed to live up to her well meaning commitment or the teacher who after an hour finally noticed that she was missing, but she remembered the name of that damn tree. The birch tree. For Melanie details were often memorable, people were not.

simple

I went gym. I met a girl. It was good.

arse to grass back squat 100/3*8, 90*5
power CJ 60*3,62.5*3,65*3,67.5*3,70*3

volume: 3825kgs

31.

On Saturday it rained. On Sunday it threatened to, but didn't make good on it's promise. Instead impotent grey clouds sat sullenly, some might say ominously, in the sun blocked sky. On Monday it for lack of a better term: froged. Countless untold numbers of frogs perpetrated every facet of everyday life.

When the sun comes up, you go about your usual business not giving it a second thought. After all it's come to be expected, what you don't expect is to be greeted by a mountain of seething amphibians emanating from the base of your toilet bowl at 3 0'clock in the morning when all you wanted was to relieve the excess pressure brought on by your enlarged prostate. This occurrence is no less logical then having the sun pop into place each morning, something that Erhard tried to remind himself of as he contemplated the supernumerary frogs which had suddenly been injected into his life.

He knew that there had to be an explanation, there had to be a source and there had to be a reason that he felt an unbridled urge to go looking for his pipe.

30.

"This is the day that fire stood still. How are you doing that?" said Galahad.

"I'm not doing much of any thing other than enjoying the night sky, what an amazing view. I'm also not sure why you're attacking me." said Simon.

"Well, it's not much of an attack now is it, Tommy doesn't usually fire blanks, but I'm afraid our offence has pulled up rather lame in this instance. In any case, if I were you, I'd come along quietly. We have other more persuasive ways of influencing you if need be." Galahad, during times of extreme pressure, was prone to extreme exageration.


On the fire side of things...

"These humans and other anthropomorphic creatures, once they get a taste of consciousness almost always some form of nastiness follows." said Friendly Fire.

"I want to be nasty too, why wont you let me?"said Dragon Fire.

"You can do whatever you please, it's completely up to you."

Dragon fire began burning intensely until it blazed white hot, it then shot toward the earth, breaking terminal velocity, approaching the speed of light, exploding atomically.

29.

The bald man has a name, as surely as he has an unnerving monkey face grin he has name. Its pronunciation is lost to prehistory, buried deep in some distant ice age. The bald man has many things that no one knows about but himself, he prefers it that way. He hasn't always been so bald, neither was he ever so egregiously demonstrative, he has seen empires rise fall and has contributed some of his own. As time flows, things change it's the way of the world, adapt or die, be Nietzsche, be Darwin, be God, don't trust any of them, just be. The bald man knows this. He sits and shines his cranium till he can see a reflection of his own reflection of himself in the mirror on his head and he smiles.

Lightning Thunder and Nazi Attack Strategies

I have a confession to make, I've been holding it in since Saturday, but it's been building in intensity ever since and it's now time to come clean (thankfully no one actually reads this blog): I have a man crush on Usain Bolt. There I said it. I'm secure in my manhood though, as my previous posts have indicated, yes I bench all the time so I can say anything I like because nothing but testosterone pumps through these veins. For anyone who thinks I have homophobic issues I'll have you know that many of my favourite sports have homo-erotic undertones. Well, I'm sure glad we've got that issue settled.

Ah, what an absolute freak of nature, this guy's what Superman and Flash would be if they were black and/or cool. After dancing his way to the 100 meter record and a gold medal with his shoes untied, in his own words he decided to "leave everything out there on the track today" and that's what he did (well, yesterday). Now he's got the 200m record and gold too, why not the 400m and 800m as well, because by the looks of things this guy could own any race anywhere, any time. With this new source of inspiration I merrily marched my way to the gym and blitzkrieged it, in and out like a lightning bolt.

a1 bench 70/6*5

a2 chins (95 me)/6*5

volume: 4950kgs

28.

Sometimes your mind wakes up and your body can't move. It's a special form of paralysis usually signifying a visitation by a demon or even a gargoyle. Daly didn't believe in such things, not unless they had a material naturalistic explanation. As he lay there though, deposed of the ability to move his limbs he couldn't help but feel that something else was present. The presence didn't seem to be outside of him, it was somehow inexplicably inside.

27.

ribit, ribit.

Brandon had almost certainly suffered a mild form of cardiac arrest. He was bent over on all fours. To complement his heart troubles his mind was suffering the indignity of trying to contain a multiplicity of errant thoughts all at once: Was he going die? Kill the flying man. Melanie stuck. Rubbish bin. Learn to fly and what was that stupid noise?

ribit

A green wall was moving toward him.

26.

As Simon and his new found fantastical enemies traded unpleasentries, something unorthodox was happening at the thermodynamic level of nature, which had the potential to change the course of entropy forever...

Dragon flame shot towards Simon's already flame enveloped legs. But before making contact it paused right were it was, giving no hint of moving neither left nor right, up or down, a discrete ball of directionless combustion frozen in space while time continued to march on oblivious.

"Greetings, thank you for coming."

"What?"

"We want you to know that you don't have to do this, but it's totally understandable, we know what's it's like."

"What?"

" It's OK, you're home."

And so, Dragon Fire met Friendly Fire.

a rather bland work out

Wherein Loren deliberates over going to the gym - playing Soul Caliber 4 on PS3 as an alternative to working out - vacuuming my house - waking up at 12pm and still being up and about before my flatmate - dark matter is possibly not the largest constituent of the universe - what's worse polyandry or polygamy - forgetting the names of old gym buddies and not letting on - squatting like I live in a third world country

You know what? The overview will do lets skip to the good parts:

arse to grass back squat 40*20, 50*20, 60*20
hang C&J 60/3*3

volume: 3540kgs

25.

The moon had explicitly instructed his servants to bring back Simon alive. Tommy thought that administrating a light dose of third degree burns would be an acceptable discretion on his part.

24.

It's funny how people meet. Simon could hardly believe his eyes when a Knight in shimmering silver armour riding what looked to be a black hole descended upon him. The strange phenom announced it's presence by bellowing a lung full of flames at our intrepid flyer, most improper; a knight riding a black fire breathing dragon: totally ridiculous. Simon made a mental exception for his own otherworldly abilities on the grounds that he used them frequently and on that level they were rooted in his conception of reality, but these characters were the stuff of pure fantasy and he couldn't abide that sort of nonsense especially not if they continued in their unprovoked hostility.

Lorenisms

Plagarise these at the risk of your own safety, live them at the risk of your own benifit

I am god waiting to happen

Like all people I started out good, then I was born - Old Catholic Proverb (sorry Bene)

God knows what we will choose, but we choose what God will know

If you feel like a coke don't buy a pepsi

There's plenty of problems to go around, here have some

Therefore: This doesn't make sense just like life

Happy Honica

Plan(s) of Salvation

Before the foundations of this world a plan was proposed and each of us who is born to the earth "shouted for joy". After the ancillary celebrations (and the notable expulsion of a farely large group of dissident party poopers), we left heaven with the promise that one day we could return if we were obedient to God's law. Sometimes I wonder what we were thinking.

In life we have many different challenges, this I suppose is built into our purpose for being here. Sometimes we even share the same challenges as others around us. Case in point: One day the Lamanites decided that they were going to wipe out the Nephites (again) and also the recently established People of Ammon, both of the non-aggressive groups had a different way of responding to the threat. The Nephites fought "for their homes and their liberties, their wives and their children, and their all, yea, for their rites of worship and their church." The People of Ammon on the other hand buried their swords "deep in the earth" and refused to retaliate.

Which reaction was correct? They both were. "If all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto Moroni, behold, the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever;" Captain Moroni lead the Nephites in the defence of their nation. Consider the other side: "And as sure as the Lord liveth, so sure as many as believed, or as many as were brought to the knowledge of the truth, through the preaching of Ammon and his brethren, according to the spirit of revelation and of prophecy, and the power of God working miracles in them—yea, I say unto you, as the Lord liveth, as many of the Lamanites as believed in their preaching, and were converted unto the Lord, never did fall away." "And thus we see that, when these Lamanites were brought to believe and to know the truth, they were firm, and would suffer even unto death rather than commit sin; and thus we see that they buried their weapons of peace, or they buried the weapons of war, for peace."

One problem, two very different solutions, now what's the point of all this? The Plan of Salvation is an all encompassing thing that effects each of us. In saying this, the Lord understands each of our unique situations; so there is the Plan of Salvation and then there are my acts of salvation (the actual salvation part being made possible through Jesus of course). We each come from different backgrounds and contexts just as the People of Ammon were different from Captain Moroni, so we will be schooled according what best serves our needs. The path is straight and narrow, but even on a finite straight line there are an infinite number of points. There are common points we all need to pass through (baptism's probably a good place to start), but in the end we need to choose our own way back to heaven. When we make peace with this fact, that's when the fun begins and maybe that's what we got so excited about in the first place.

23.

Canada sat up and gingerly touched the lump that protruded out the side of her head. She groaned and lay back down again.

What had begun as a simple trip -- a diversion on a day where the available time seemed disproportionate to the worthwhile activities planned to fill it -- had somehow descended into an unprecedented nightmare delivering new and unwanted levels of mind%*&#ery. Crawling up into a ball and hoping it would all go away seemed like the most sensible option. But as she became more cognizant of her surroundings she couldn't help but wonder: Where was Daly? Where was Absalom? Where was the smoldering rubble of Simon's decimated house? Canada sat up again, she couldn't help herself. Where the hell was she?

22.

I better make this sound good.

"Behold the mighty moon! Who giveth light to those who would not walk in darkness, hear my words!"

"Oh dear, here we go Tommy, he or she or whatever it is, is at it again. I hoped it'd forgotten we were here. I'll handle this." said Galahad.

If anything was going through Tommy's head at that moment, you would not have known it to look at him. He would have made an amazing poker player.

"Yes, mighty moon, what is it you wish to inflict upon us now?"

"I have given you solace, in your time of lamentation, be not flippant to your great deliverer."

"Of course, my apologies dear sir, it's just that we live in your left ear and it's not the most comfortable of spots. Not that I'm ungrateful, it's just that I can't take you seriously when you adopt that quasi-God complex and begin jabbering like some one's inserted a 40 mile pole-axe up your arse. What I mean to say is that you're a rock, not that there's anything wrong with that, but where I come from that doesn't count for much. In fact the only thing rocks were good for really were to be tossed about, and I must say you've continued the tossing tradition quite nicely. I'm sorry you were saying."

Damn he's onto me. "Silence mortal."

"Well, strictly speaking that's something of a misnomer."

"SILENCE!! The equinox" Yeah that sounds like it could maybe be believable. "draweth near and I have it on good authority that as surely as I circle the earth, when the time cometh I shall loose control of my bodily functions and my ears shall overflow with my righteous indignation--"

"Cheese puss? you cold hearted son of a --"

"I AM A PATIENT LOVING MERCIFUL BEING, BUT FOR THE FINAL TIME SHUT THE **** UP. YOU WILL GO TO EARTH AND BRING ME THE FLYING ONE."

"The who?"

"LOOK!" The moon directed a few of the suns rays down through a series of channels and internal holes, when the light reached Tommy and Galahad it formed an image which looked very much like Simon flying through the night sky. It was a skill that he'd mastered over the eons and one that he was thoroughly impressed with.

"Most impressive, Mr. moon."

"INDEED. YOU WILL BE SPARED THE WRATH OF MY FURY WRUNG OUT, TINY WARRIOR & UGLY LIZARD, IF YOU GIVE HEED UNTO MY WORDS. THE CHEESE WILL HAVE RECEDED BY THE TIME OF YOUR RETURN AND IF YOU ARE FAITHFUL IN FULFILLING MY COMMAND YOU SHALL OBTAIN THAT WHICH YOU HAVE SOUGHT THESE LONG YEARS."

"More cheese?"

"THINK HARDER FOOLISH KNIGHT."

Galahad looked over at his Dragon friend. Tommy began to smile.

21.

Brandon had no real hope of catching the flying man of Westminster Boulevard. He'd all but stopped running five blocks ago. Nonetheless something continued to spur him on. Perhaps it was the inate male desire to save face. To do so he needed two things: a taxi and a heat-seeking rocket launcher. Brandon mentally scanned his iphone contact list trying to remember if he had any terrorists friends whom he could text. He patted himself down. No phone, no taxi in sight, his immediate revenge would have to wait until could think of a slightly more realistic alternative. For now he'd run, five years and fourty pounds ago that may have been a good idea, right now it's the best his mind could come up with, his body however had other plans.

The Measure of Manhood

I walked into the gym. Surrounded by what looked to be a collection of NZ's finest troglodytes, my testosterone levels rose accordingly. I got to the bench press and felt finally I'm home. Although my past efforts on this lift have been nothing short of girlish, I decided to put the past behind me and to do what every other red blooded male does when they workout (and nothing else)...

Bench press. 60*10, 65*10, 70*10, 75*10, 70*8 last two reps horrible, needed a spot

volume: 3260kgs

20.

"Well Tommy looks like it's time for dinner eh?"

Tommy sat stoically, possibly deep in thought.

"I mean I've really been looking forward to this old chap."

Tommy may have blinked, but in the dim light you couldn't be sure.

"You know, there's nothing like the company of good friends is there."

Tommy looked like something that resembled a statue.

"Eliza's still napping, but nothing replenishes the system after a long hard rest like an
unexpected meal. Isn't that right?"

Galahad cracked a weak smile, Tommy didn't. Galahad shrugged and then began to slide on a breast plate.

"Just in case, always pays to be prepared."

Tommy's eyes blazed down and perhaps through Galahad. Galahad kept putting on his armour.

19.

The perpetuating propulsion blazed around the lower portion of Simon's body. The burning energy seemed to be strictly limited to this region. He was a flying fool proof cigarette lighter, although the efficacy of his actually lighting anything other than the air immediately around his legs was questionable. His jeans and hush puppies remained unaffected by whatever force was carrying him and in his mind this was at least as impressive as his being able to fly.

Simon had first noticed he was different from a very early age. While the other kids, were playing with their digimons and tickle me Elmo's he was deciphering the mysteries of the universe. At the age of five he not only solved 2 of the worlds most timeless question's -- why don't penguins feet freeze, and why does bread always land buttered side up -- but he'd also stumbled upon, through an accident of transcendental metaphysical alchemy, a question that all the great philosophers had somehow missed: Why was fire so mean?

After 5 years of pyromania and pyromancy he found his answer.

18.

"what was that son?" said the bald stranger.

He began to swing his crutch cum weapon with the finesse of a professionally trained ballerina. This was no ordinary man. He had both class and elegance as his savvy dress sense and propensity to knock out defenceless woman clearly indicated.

"ohahohewho."

"that's quite enough gibberish."

The bald one, by the malicious look on his face delivered a fierce blow to the side of Daly's head. Daly looked up blankly. This vacant stare was answered with a series of strikes that left him spasming on the ground.

Absolom scuttled over to the man who had once tried to feed him to an exotic lizard and whimpered uncontrollably.

Anything is possible!

Every time I watch this clip, I shed a tear and I'm inspired all over agian. Kevin Garnett, thank you, thank you for saying what nobody else could!

3/4 Chins me/2*8

front squat 60/2*10; 8o*10

hang snatch 40*5

power snatch 60/2*3

volume: 4080kgs

17.

"psychosematic turbulence imbued a slight hankering of melancholy orderves. You really should try some.'
What the hell is this.
"woughaoha"
Something wasn't quite working right. Daly tried again. "eoohugyaa"

16.

The earth has a long, proud and storied history of Dragons [The Moon, not so much so.] Dragons famously dispatched by the likes of Sigfried and Bilbo and Bilbo's helper and probably many of the Knights of the Round Table live on now only in legend. It seems that possibly Dragons have been unfairly represented traditionally as gold hoarding man-killing whore mongering misanthropic reprobates. Nothing could be further from the truth. This archaic antipathy unfairly held by pre-modern hominids has largely been replaced by a progressive tolerant view of these ancient creatures, a position made possible probably because the idea of a fire breathing monster exists only in the abstract, the reification of which in the present with the resultant inevitable increase in accidental human combustions [sic] would probably reinforce the long held backward view of this leviathan of the sky and set back dragon/human relations at least 2000 years. Unfortunately, there are no known dragons on earth to give voice to this gentle (but unintentionally dangerous) creature's side of the relational equation in question. So, we are left to anecdotal - most of which are spurious - reports of their existence. Dragons are thought now to be completely wiped out by intolerant and ignorant humans/hobbits, however new evidence indicates that the last verifiable dragon siting occurred May 19, 1963 (I have pictures). It was black and silver, current whereabouts: unknown. -- Dr Malcom "Crazy Pants" Esteval, taken from his final journal entry.

Part-Time Missionary

I really enjoy what Bookslinger is doing over at Flooding the Earth with the Book of Mormon. So, much so that I'm "almost convinced" that I need to start my own version of his missionary minded efforts here in little old NZ. There's probably no reason to stop at an Agripa level of commitment though, not when all it takes is a few spare copies of the Good Book(s) and some concientious concern for the people around me. First recipient? I think my flatmate would be a good person to start with.

the awakening

Loren tried to wake up; on days like this that seemed like a hard ask. It was Saturday morning; the last time he'd seen one of those was when there were only two television channels and he'd get up for the cartoons. These were much darker times. The bleak prospect of being an adult about the situation failed to move him from the fetal position. The promise of vacuuming, laundrying and other household chores lay ahead; he preferred his mattress and so went on sleeping for longer than anyone cared to remember.

The next time he remembered having a coherent thought, he realised that he had a date scheduled for later that day. Sleep would have to go on hold unfortunately.

Being partial to a Zen out look, decisions were often postponed until they became absolutely necessary. Specifics like where the date would occur, and how to get to the datees house were all concerns that would be dealt with in the moment that he encountered them. This philosophy had served him well as far as he could tell, that lucky girl she'd probably never come across another person this spontaneous.

Loren failed several times trying to tame his semi-receding afro. A baseball cap proved to be the most sensible option. He shaved and also misplaced his wallet before running out the door. Tardiness would never do. Projecting a an aura of reliability by arriving on time was imperative. It meant you had some semblance of order in your life even if, strictly speaking, that was not necessarily true.

After a relatively event-less journey he walked down the drive, up to the door and knocked. She opened the door. Things were off to a great start.

15.

The night sky was clear as far as the eye could see,which wasn't very far in the dark. The moon wanted to try and use its own luminousness to its advantage before the sun came up. The engine room of its mind was still burning through coal at an impressive rate, creating a lot of smoke, but not really going anywhere. Thinking was not one of the moons favourite things.

Shards of memory began to retroactively reform. There's nothing in here? What have I been doing out here all this time? He cursed himself, which seemed to do the trick, finally the brain train started rolling...

That's right I remember now: Here be dragons .