Curiosity Wins Again

As soon as I get all these kid books under some semblance of control I want to get some REAL painting done.

Found some amazing photos on line and now I just want to paint some horses.

I had one on my mind because Sass had to continue on pilgrimage 'alone' in Mamm of Dunnottar - so she chose Sampson as her steed and there was a photo I saw in my head as she told her part of the Story. Posted it and then had to go back and find it - and got only as far as the site I found it through, sigh. I tried.

In the process I ran across a bunch of horse photos and found myself drawn to the Percherons. Now I'm going to have to do my homework and research these incredible horses. Spurring me on, as if I need it, is the coincidental similarity of their name to the Perchtanne people of the Story (a name I made up based on a complicated sequence of research) ... curiosity wins every time.

KID BOOKS ... Been Working My Behinder Off!

Kid stories are a hoot and a half to do, but holy buckets the illustrations, simple as they are, can make a person more nuts than usual! 

https://www.createspace.com/5073783

That's the link to 

Going to the Moon 

and then there's 

https://www.createspace.com/5067229

Junior the Goldfish

and I think that might be it for this set of days off unless I can get

The Surprise! 

whipped into shape today ... possible ... but don't hold your breath 

just in case I get distracted by   

The Lonely Little Owl



or the Brann Stories ... 

(sketch ideas ...)

Here are a few of the things I use for ideas when designing illustrations for stories ... 

For example, Brann rides his wolves (as did David of Chattan in LittleMamm of Iona - thankfully the grown-up books don't require illustrations, only covers!) so I found a simple drawing of a wolf with a person aboard simply for the visual ... I could also have chosen to find a photo of a running wolf and gone by that, adding a child rider.

Because the interiors are all black and white I've mostly gone with simple line drawings that kids can color if they want.

The fireplace is basically just for me ... I want to do either a sketch or a painting of the Dunnottar family in their hearth circle - where they tell and hear the Story. IF I ever get the kid stories caught up on.

one leads into the next ... and 'round and 'round they go

When I fixed the end of Dunnottar, it dawned on me that I had better fix the intro of SONG as well ... being as one leads straight into the other and all ... 

Ta-DAH! Kid books, gotta love 'em!

https://www.createspace.com/5067229

shielabranson.com (go to the home page)

Amazon Books

Kindle

From Now On I'm Just PAINTING The (insert cuss word) Book Covers!

I kid you not.

Simple, and I mean SIMPLE, little drawings to illustrate a kid book took me hardly any time to do - but then I had to fiddle with them and get them formatted and yada yada ... and I made the mistake of using a computer program to add color to the cover photo, which for such a dang simple little thing took an inordinate amount of my time.

GRRRRRRRRRRRR ... 

I don't even like goldfish all that much.

This is Junior the small round goldfish who ends up going through a series of changes in his life - and winds up happily back where he started, pleased as punch to just be his own self.

Here's the blasted thing - it didn't even turn out all that well, but it'll have to do since it's already submitted.

Over-tired and cranky here.

Luckily for me, the rest of the cover is actually pretty cool. Shiny purple. I'll post a photo as soon as I approve the final work-up.

The next one is about six siblings whose imaginations are out of this world, although they usually stay in our galaxy. In this kid book, their mission is to get two important personages to a very urgent meeting - safely. It's the introduction book for this set of kids who live in a castle and keep their spacecraft handy in the nearby forest.

Then will come a story about a little girl who lives in a cottage at the edge of a forest with her faerie friend (who's pretty naive for a faerie), again an introductory story as there are plenty of opportunities for this pair and the forest folk who are their neighbors.

After that, Brann of Dunnottar Bides, goes Sailing, and has an adventurous picnic with Mama Aine and Caileen. Come this Long Dark, as the rest of the younglings show up to keep him company, I'm thinking the lot of them, along with the rest of the kids whose stories are only just beginning, will keep me busy just trying to keep up with them.

It's time for a change of pace for me so the kids are stepping up to the plate to bring their adventures and liven up the winter for me. I can't wait to see where they take me!

AND I'm giving myself an assignment. I might not succeed in what I set out to do here, but I'm planning on giving it my best shot.

See, a long time ago bedtimes included story time. We ran out of books so the kids would look around the room and pick something, anything, the weirder the better, for me to create a story around. It was challenging but so much fun - we all loved it!

So I'm going to see if I can do a variation of that theme here this winter. Just look around my study or studio or whatever room I feel like looking around at, and the first thing my eyes linger on is what I have to create a story around.

But for the time being, I've got these kid books already written so they'll get their pictures first and get that out of the way as we head into the rest of the writing agenda for this winter.

Last year it was The Mamm Books.

This year I'm focusing on kids.

After that, who knows?

I do know that I've got to write more for the SONG series, but you know how kids are ... they want my attention and they aren't going to give up.

Who WROTE All That Stuff?!?

http://shielabransonprojects.blogspot.com/

*snort of laughter*

That would be me, as far as I can tell.

See that open window in the dormer? Out of it is snaking a very big rope which goes up alongside of that dormer and over the roof line and down into the matching dormer on the other side - I used it for a life line while working on the front half of the roof over there.

I'm laughing at myself here, having a high old time snickering at all the stuff in my 'PROJECTS' blog, which I darned near forgot I even ever had.


http://shielabransonprojects.blogspot.com/2013/07/note-about-this-blog.html

There's a link to the post I started that blog with.

It was SUPPOSED to keep my posts organized, along with a number of other 'specialized' blogs, so this one wouldn't be such a hodgepodge.

You can see how well that brainstorm worked.

What with one thing and another I haven't really kept up to date on my projects, although it's not like I haven't been busy. I've just been busy with things other than my house projects.

It's been a busy 16 months for me.
They Are My Song
Mamm of Perth
Mamm of Tarnos
LittleMamm of Iona
Mamm of Dunnottar
Small Town USA
Victor Vignettes
Introducing the Younglings of Dunnottar
The Story Behind the Story
Fishin' Off the Dock

Those ten books starting coming out not quite a year ago when I got the first one finished and published. In the next couple of weeks I'll add another half dozen kid books to the list.

Anyway, it's not as though I've been sitting around twiddling my thumbs for all this time.

Still, I reckon maybe I should get back to work on some of the projects that have gotten pushed aside for all this time, eh?

Yep. Been living too close to Canada too long, eh?

And so much for going to bed early tonight, eh?

Well how was I supposed to know that my old 'PROJECTS' blog would be so entertaining? I don't recall being much entertained during the process of DOING all that stuff.

But here it is going on three in the morning and instead of heading for bed I'm heading back into that blog. I might laugh myself to sleep.



I tell ya. Tearing off a hundred-year-old back porch was filthy work.

Here's the post that goes along with this photo:


http://shielabransonprojects.blogspot.com/2013/07/plan-the-roof-over-bay-window.html

Here's the one that goes with the first photo and the big rope thing:

http://shielabransonprojects.blogspot.com/2013/07/plan-the-roof-holy-sh.html

Truth be told, neither the porch project nor the south roof project are yet done. That's what happens when a person forgets to lock their ears shut to the siren song of writing and artwork. I've been a little distracted. On the other hand, the roof isn't leaking and the back porch still basically serves me fairly well, what's left of it.

And once again I bid you g'night and God Bless.

Me, I'm gonna sleep in tomorrow until I wake up.

After I make my way through that 'PROJECTS' blog - it makes me laugh but I'm also hoping it will motivate me to pick up where I left off clear back whenever the heck it was.

Alas and Alack

Just past midnight here ... 

I got no illustrations done on this day. Well, since it's after midnight, I reckon that would be yesterday now.

BUT ... 

I spent some great time working with my sister on designing an advertising and information publication for our local Civic and Commerce, which was a fun stress-breaker for both of us.

I know that might sound a mite odd, but we do love the challenges of design and it really does relax us. When we get this first mock-up done I'll see if I can post it so you can see what we've been up to. 

If it's not raining when the sun comes up (and I wake up) I get to take my camera and roam around town taking photos that we might make into a collage.

If it IS raining, I get to go straight into those illustrations! 

Either way, it's going to be a fun day tomorrow.

*grinning*

*yawning*

There have been times I'd just stay up all night getting the illustrations done, but since I got my part time shift-work schedule fixed I don't HAVE to do that unless I really want to.

And you know what?

Tonight I don't really want to.

So I won't.

G'night, God Bless.

ILLUSTRATIONS TODAY!

I've got my work cut out for me, and that's a fact!

The illustrations for some kid books are on my agenda.

JUNIOR THE GOLDFISH

THE ADVENTURE OF BRANN

THE BIDING OF BRANN

THE SAILING OF BRANN

JESSIE AND SEDGE AND THE SURPRISE

GOING TO THE MOON

Wish me luck.

All I can do is the best I can do, right?

Let's see how many I can get done before I can't see straight any more and have to rest my eyes.

Oh but it's going to be enormous FUN!

And once they're done, it's into print they go, and onto Kindle, so the quicker I work the sooner they get finished and out there.

The transcribing and formatting is thankfully out of the way, but for adding the illustrations - so that's one less headache. 

If I do this right these books will be in my hands in a week or two, in time for the Holidays, WHOOP!!! 

There are some other kid stories floating around in my head; can't wait to get to them, and also further adventures of Brann as the other Younglings of Dunnottar join him.

And THAT, my friend, is something I'm very much looking forward to!

These illustrations are going to be something I've never tried before - line drawings that kids can color if they want. Since I have no idea how they'll turn out I'm looking forward to the adventure of learning as I go! Again.

Yes. I recognize these signs all right!

And they are so very welcome!!

What am I talking about you ask?

Clearing my desktop of clutter, sorting and filing and rearranging in my studio, cleaning my house, putting MUSIC on again, even getting my front porch into some semblance of order ... these all mean that I'm not going to want to be fretting about them pretty soon as I'll be otherwise occupied with creative endeavors.

I can live with more hodgepodge than you can imagine unless you've browsed through the hodgepodge of this blog in search of any sort of order - but I can't WORK in it. Not the way I want to work, that is. 

I can write just about anywhere; a hefty hunk of LittleMamm of Iona was written with my mini sitting on the tailgate of my decrepit little pickup while Duke and I were camping out down Phantom Canyon in the Colorado Rockies, for example. See, the thing is that I don't actually consider writing to be 'work' in any real sense of the word - because it's like an instinct or something, and I can't stop it from kicking in whenever and wherever it feels like it. 

All this de-cluttering of my environment is a sure sign that I'm going to want as little visual clutter as I can manage - and that means my subconscious is gearing up for something visual. Since there are any number of ideas flitting in and out of my mind, it's going to be fun to find out which is going to pop first.

So.

The canvases are getting stacked where I can easily get at them.
Paints, palettes, water bowls, and brushes are lining themselves up.
Pencils, sharpeners, and erasers are gathering with sketchpads.
Prismacolors and pastels find blending cloths and q-tips - ach, I better get to the store first thing in the morning for baby wipes just in case the soft pastels decide I'm going to use them ... my fingers and hands always collect the colors, and the dust gets everywhere.
Fabrics stack up near my sewing machine and kit of threads and 'stuff'.
Other fabrics, and a big piece of canvas, head for my stretching screens.
Leather and laces, feathers and seashells, beads and micro-beads, pinecones and cedar shakes sort themselves onto the long counter - just in case.
Shillelagh sticks stand in their bucket, waiting for me to get around to them, and a couple of long staff sticks hover over them.
Strips of bark, canned grape juice, vinegar, and lengths of cotton also wait - their day will come some time during the coming Long Dark when my wood stove is hot hot hot and water boils in the big kettle.
Cans of sealant wait as well, until I have something to use them on.

And so the bits and pieces take their places and wait for my attention.

They won't have long to wait!

I'll have my pacing route all cleared, distracting clutter out of sight out of mind, and everything I might possibly need close to hand.

Yep.

This is going to be fun!  

MAMM OF DUNNOTTAR - a bit from the book

I hope you enjoy Mamm and Alaric as much as I've enjoyed the time I've 'spent' with them! They choose their Destiny, knowing it will bring them pain and loss ... and bittersweet triumph ... 


*Stilicho and Alaric are rival 'Getae' (essentially Celt, Stilicho is Vandal and Alaric Visigoth in background) Generals who command vast numbers of the Roman Empire's military.*
...

‘Why do I not believe you, Stilicho?’

‘Would I lie to you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I’m not.
‘Honorius fears you and trusts me. I am doing my job. Disturbing your peace is part of it – the only part I really enjoy, come to think of it.
‘Also remember this, Alaric. I might work for Honorius but I serve the Mother. In my own way.
‘Honorius is afraid you might go to work for Arcadius. Let’s make his nightmare a reality.
‘Take Greece, Alaric. They love you there. Arcadius will take it as a sign of your military prowess and put Illyria into your hands, and his armories. He will think to use you against me and Honorius.
‘For brothers, those two sure don’t get along very well, do they? Though Rufinus plays Arcadius with a puppet’s strings and Honorius depends on me and others . . . still, if those two brothers ever took it into their heads to be brother to one another . . . but they do not and they will not.’

‘No, they don’t and they won’t – and thank the Mother for that. Between the two of them they’ll bring the empire down even without our help.
‘Okay then. Greece it is for me and mine. You go on and tend to the seeds you’ve planted, Stilicho – and stay out of Greece for a while.’

He looks over to Mamm, remembering.

‘Innocent bystanders might get hurt if we meet in public, and my wife might get mad.’

Stilicho gives Mamm a long look, also remembering.

‘Indeed.’

And so into Greece they go and they take it by storm.

There are a few places where they have to do a little fighting but . . . well . . . after the Frigidus there’s not much of anything that’s going to intimidate these Warriors and it shows.

Something about them . . . the way they ride, their walk, their eyes, their posture . . . whatever it is, they unconsciously present themselves as someone you don’t want to tangle with. Nobody wants to take them on.

Besides, Stilicho is right: Greece does love Alaric. He could tromp them at will but chooses not to, and they love him for it.

When entering a city or town, he brandishes his sword and shouts:
‘Here is the sword of Alaric! Her name is Kindness and with her will I smite you!’

Roars of cheers meet these words and the people of Greece fall before him.

When they stop to camp along the way one evening, Mamm looks at Alaric. Half in jest and half serious, she asks him a question.

‘Am I crazy or is it the Greeks? I thought this was supposed to be an invasion.’

‘Well it is, Mamm.’

‘Alaric.’

‘What?’

‘This is not an invasion.’

‘Sure it is.’

‘How can you call it an invasion? We should leave these people alone, Alaric. They’re all soft in the head. We can’t just keep on taking their stuff – it isn’t right.’

‘Who are we to say what’s right and what’s wrong? If they want to give us their stuff I say take it, tell them thank you, and go on our way.’

‘Alaric!’

‘Well what am I supposed to do, Mamm? Give it all back and turn around to go back to Illyria? It would be an insult to every self-respecting Greek in the land. I’m supposed to be conquering Greece here, am I not? Can I help it if they like us and want to give us stuff? No, I cannot.’

‘Do you know what I overheard in the last place we stopped, Alaric? A little old gramma lady come to visit her sister was upset, upset Alaric, that we had skipped by her village!’

Here Mamm squinches her eyes mostly closed, wrinkles up her face as best she can, and waves her arms around as she skreeks out her next words.

‘They skipped us, sister! Just breezed on by like we didn’t exist! I tell you, we were some disappointed. All of us wanted to set eyes on that handsome Alaric and that adorable little wife of his, but they passed us right by! When I heard they were here I says to myself, Self, you haven’t seen your sister in a long while, and hurried myself right over here for a visit I did! Just to see you, y’know. Oh and there they were! I almost fainted dead away and me a little old gramma lady already! Did you see them dark blue eyes on that man, sister? Oh my! And his deeeear little wife! I’ve had this tunic ready to give her, just waitin’ for them to come along to sack our village doncha know – and they never came!’

Alaric is laughing but Mamm’s face is serious now.

‘And later she found me, Alaric. She found me and gave me a lovely tunic. A little old gramma lady, Alaric, whose own tunic was far less fine than the one she gave to me.’

‘So. What did you do?’

‘What could I do? I accepted it and gave her a kiss on her forehead in thanks.’

‘Well there you have it, Mamm. We have to conquer Greece. As long as we make it look good and nobody tells on us, we may as well enjoy it.’

‘Shouldn’t we at least maybe feel a little bit guilty?’

‘Nope.’
...

This gives you just a bit of an idea about the relationship these two share.

Truth be told, I had a difficult time writing much of their story. 

I was either laughing or weeping most of the time and some parts I flat out just didn't want to write. 

Still, the Story must be told ... 

UNITED States of America : A Call to Unity : Fifty Voices Are Needed

Here's a comment from one of my Facebook posts; it's my own:

Patrick Henry issued a Call to Arms. We could sure use somebody ready, willing, and able to issue not a literal Call to Arms but a Call to Unite, to set aside personal issues for once and prove to ourselves and the rest of the world that we know what the words UNITED States of America are supposed to mean.

And yeah I realize the photo shows the North American Continent. That's because the United States of America is not alone in this world and the UNITY is aimed not just at us but expands to include all. It only seems impossible.

Because you know what?

The United States of America seemed impossible to many at one time too.  

I'm not advocating a world-wide universal culture, mind you, nor even a nation-wide United States culture - our diversity is one of our greatest strengths if we could only bring ourselves to 'get' that concept.

But a unity of purpose, a united effort to make our nation and our world the best it can be, without constantly bickering and fighting all over the place - THAT'S a worthwhile goal, isn't it? Something to work toward?

You think our 'Founding Fathers (and Mothers)' didn't have differences of opinion? 

They did. 

Serious ones.

Somehow they managed to work those differences out - not without a struggle, and not without hot words going back and forth - and those Colonies became the States of a new Nation, one whose bottom line strength rests in her people ... that would be us. 

Each and all of us, equally. 

Just sayin' ... 

If they could do it, so can we. We don't even have to start from scratch the way they did. Those guys gave us some damned powerful tools, if we could only bring ourselves to use them the way they were designed to be used. 

What if we just started small?

What if even just one person from each State was ready, willing, and able to say flat out, and mean it, 'I am an American.'

What if even just one Voice from each State left out the rest of it, the politics, the religions, the age, the color, the gender, the divisive adjectives of all kinds, and simply focused on what it means, bottom line, to be an American? 

Can we find even ONE VOICE from each of the fifty States willing to set it all aside enough to Speak in Unity with 49 other Voices and say, 'I am an American.'?

And leave it at that.

No adding 'I'm a woman. I'm a Democrat. I'm rich. I'm a businessman. I'm a stay at home mom. I'm gay. I'm Lutheran. I'm from Texas. I'm eighty years old. I'm this or that or the other thing yada yada yada.'

Just for once to take hold of the concept of what it means to be an American ...  and to be ready, willing, and able to accept 49 others, no matter who they are, absolutely and without reservations, just because they too are ready, willing, and able to say right alongside of you, 'I am an American.'

Not in an attempt to negate our individuality and differences but to celebrate our diversity within the framework of our Nation.

Can we do this?

I am from North Dakota.

I will accept my own challenge and Speak, alone if no other Voices can be found from any of the other States.

And so North Dakota Speaks:

'I am an American.'

Who will add their Voice?

Think carefully what it means to add your Voice to this list. It means you are ready, willing, and able to stand shoulder to shoulder with 49 total strangers whose individual choices and affiliations may be radically different from your own. 

For our purposes, the ONLY thing that matters is that they too are ready, willing, and able to stand shoulder to shoulder with 49 total strangers whose individual choices and affiliations may be radically different from theirs.

Because, my friend, that is what we are supposed to be all about here in the USA, isn't it? 

Can we do it?

Can even ONE from each State, just fifty of us, accept 49 others as Americans no matter what our individual choices and affiliations are? With none of us trying to change one another's minds, with none of us turning aside from what we have agreed to do, with none of us saying to another you don't belong here among us? 

Can we do it?

Frankly, I have my doubts.

Please prove me wrong.

After all, the only thing we have to agree on is four little words:

'I am an American.'

Free Will and the Right to Choose - How are we going to use them?

Before we go any further here, I need to emphasize something. 

I think that humankind has an inherent need, an instinct if you will, for a relationship with God or whatever Higher Being you believe in. Organized religions can and do meet that need and satisfy that instinct - there are enough of them out there that a person can choose whichever best suits. 

I happen to believe that there has been, is, and will only ever be One God  (Trinity or no, God is One) and that God is the SAME GOD for each and all of us - any conflicts among us on the issue are of our own making, for our own purposes, and are not of God. 

When we judge, condemn, harm one another, we are doing likewise to the bit of God that belongs to each and all of us equally by birthright ... that's the spiritual part of us, which balances the physical and intellectual parts. Harming one another in any way is counter-productive at best and an abomination when done under the guise of 'serving God'.

We've all of us got individual tempers, you can take that to the bank. How we choose to use them is up to us.

Nobody's perfect and nobody expects anybody else to be, but we should at least try to avoid harming one another as much as possible.

Call me naive and idealistic - it won't be the first time.

That having been said ...

NOW:

Here's a hypothetical situation and an equally hypothetical question:

What if, back in the day, it dawned on 'leadership' that the peace, love, and obedience taught by Jesus and His followers would provide an ideal population-mindset for the peoples said leadership wanted to dominate? Everyone, whether they had a choice in the matter or not at first, would eventually just fall into line (almost everyone) and go with it because it's mainly a matter of being Nice to everyone, except when the Boss says otherwise. Tweak it a little and you're the Boss of the whole thing with the Powers of God Almighty, get 10% of everyone's income and generations born into the mindset to provide even more ... and what if it worked like a charm for hundreds of years?

Now what if, back in the day, it dawned on someone else's leadership that this system was working pretty darned well, with generations of pliant and obedient people donating of their own free will to the 'cause' - these people born and bred into this mindset would be easy pickings (considering they were supposed to love and forgive everyone, especially those who did them wrong) so these other leaders did a little creative writing and tweaking - and brought a whole different but perhaps even more numerous population to THEIR way of thinking and believing - but the tweaking was to include the clause that you don't necessarily have to be Nice about stuff, and if someone believes differently than you do it's perfectly all right (expected even?) to do them harm if they won't agree with you - and you get bonus points for expanding the territory controlled by this mindset.

Wrap them both up in nice pretty packages, add plenty of sugar so they're easy to swallow, butter it up with the promise of eternal happiness (so your current misery or even your death doesn't really count), destroy anything left over from before, silence anything/one that might possibly cause someone to question your authority to Speak for God, and you're good to go.

Never mind that God gave humankind a free will and the right to choose. What people don't know doesn't matter.  Just keep those obedient and generous generations coming, the bigger the families the better and who cares what the brood mares think or feel or want or need; duty is duty.

Hmmm ... I could take this in any number of directions, couldn't I? Perhaps I'll explore all of those directions one of these days.

For now I'll just leave it as is for you to make of it what you will, as you choose.

You've got a mind: use it. Figure out what makes sense to you and let me know what you think. I'm not hard to find - just watch the spelling of S-H-I-E-L-A :) 

Are You Ready, Boots?

START WORKIN'!

A tunic, a plaid ... and handkerchiefs for my readers!

I'm looking at this fabric for making myself a tunic and a plaid ...

And for hemming up into small kerchiefs to give away with the books people buy from me ... because every single person who's given me any feedback tells me they've laughed and they've cried. So the kerchiefs are for tears of laughter and tears of weeping. If you've read the books on Kindle or bought them from Amazon/elsewhere, and feel like you might need a kerchief when you read the next one(s) please let me know and I'll pop one in the mail for you.

Places to go, Things to do, People to see!

This piece is called 'The Flight of the Wild Geese' and references the soldiers of Ireland who in the 1500s, 1600s, and 1700s flocked to the armies of other lands. The red represents the color of the uniforms they typically wore, and the blood they shed, these Wild Geese.

In a little while I need to be in Harvey to pick up the works of two artists whose travel is limited. 

I'm taking the pieces, along with my own, to Bowdon for the annual Duck Fest Art Show - where I've also got to spend as long as it takes helping to get it all set up.

Which means I've got to get myself to the store for a lunch to take along and CHOCOLATE.

When you've got a challenging task to get done, chocolate never hurts.

Then I've got tomorrow off in which to prepare for the chatting, signing, etc. that comes on Saturday. 

Looking forward to it although I'd be happier if I weren't fighting off being sick.

Regardless ... off I go!

Not Just Physical and Intellectual Beings

http://transhumanity.net/baggage-culture-and-why-embracing-transhumanism-doesnt-come-easy/

Baggage Culture and Why Embracing Transhumanism Doesn’t Come Easy

Zoltan Istvan
...
'The twisted history of our baggage culture extends back many millennia. It started long ago with the inception of civilization, when charismatic leaders and ruling clans began forming permanent communities. Over time, these rulers learned they could preserve their platforms of power by controlling their communities’ thinking and behavioral patterns. Their agendas were simple: dominate with fear through violence; stifle revolutionary and freethinking ambitions; teach adherence to leadership and community before self; implement forms of thought and behavioral control that encourage social cooperation and production, such as communal customs, prayers, taboos, and rites. Variations abounded, but these were the early convoluted versions of human culture and its main intent: to control. Henceforth, culture’s core function became a means of forcing conformity, to transform the individual into a tool of submission and production for the ruling elite.'
...

This makes it sound as though 'culturalization' has been wholly successful in producing forced conformity and in controlling the lot of us.

I would argue that physics trumps culture.

A long time ago I learned this :  For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction.

Now I'm no scientist; I'm not a mathematician; I'm no expert on anything at all.

But this bit stuck itself somewhere in my mind and out it has popped just now in 'reaction' to someone seeming to imply that I have no will of my own but am simply a product of 'culturalization'.

My gut tells me that we as a species aren't all that easily 'controlled' - else there would be no independent thinkers among us at all by now, and obviously there are among us those who evidently can and do 'think outside the box'.

When we're pushed, we push back; or, just standing still will have the effect of making the pushing force rebound back in the direction from whence it came.

Either way, it's action-reaction.

And the thought crosses my mind: is Zoltan generating action, or is it a reaction?

While I'm being abstract, here's another question: Is atheism the consequence of religion having pushed too far and too hard?

I'm thinking back to the times of my stories again ... it wasn't until rome started quashing diversity that Christianity loomed powerful, a force to be reckoned with not just spiritually but secularly. 

A person's Faith wasn't a personal Choice any more; all citizens of the Holy Roman Empire were automatically Roman Christians, unless I'm seriously misinterpreting my research. It was no longer a matter of personal spirituality; it was mandated.

Me being me, I have my doubts that the sole interest was in the well-being of anybody's soul. More likely it had something to do with a couple of other things, namely a power base and financial considerations.

While the strategy apparently worked to a degree, it also ended up eventually setting off a backlash in opposition. The Protestants broke with the main church. AND there were elements, Christians, who never did conform.

Also, the apparent success of the roman church in its bid for control wasn't happening in a vacuum. The East was without a doubt watching and learning. And up springs a counter-religion. 'If they can do it, we can too.' 

And so the diversity of religions narrowed and the competition was on; at least that's my take on it.

What does this have to do with transhumanism or atheism you ask.

There has to be Balance. 

It's that PHI thing again, the Spiral, the Golden Mean, yada yada.

When religion seems to dominate (I'm talking about organized religion here, not personal spirituality) there's got to be an equal and opposite move. Hence the rejection of religion and focus on technology.

Likewise when technology seems to dominate there's going to be an equal and opposite move - people looking to spirituality as a balance for the tech world we live in. 

With organized religion increasingly being recognized as not entirely benevolent there's pressure from two fronts on us - and we start to look within our own selves because the outside forces of technology and religion aren't bringing us much of anything except a 'choice' between them as to which is 'in control' of us. They aren't offering us the balance we need and want - both want full and utter control of us.

With these outside forces bombarding us, is it any wonder that more of us are beginning to look inward to find our own balance? 

Just as physical balance is maintained by adhering to the simplicity of ergonomics (we're designed to function best when we pay attention to the requirements of that design, so posture actually does matter) and one tiny part of our bodies (the inner ear) is vital to our balance, so too is our emotional or spiritual balance maintained by paying attention to the design requirements - and the 'regulating factor' may very well be an elusive but vital 'something' that lies within us each and all.

Because we've made enormous advances in science, we know the importance of our inner ears.

Maybe further advances in other areas will one day show us the importance of that 'something' which helps us to find and maintain our spiritual balance and personal Peace.

We are not just physical and intellectual beings. We have a spiritual part to us as well - for lack of a better term.

When we lose our physical balance, what do we do? We reach out and construct for ourselves a third contact point to stabilize our stance.

By focusing on the two points of physical and intellectual existence, I think that Zoltan and the others risk losing sight of the value of that third component, the one that stabilizes us.

UPDATED : 'Quack You. You Forgot Something.'

Some of you will recognize these. I finally got around to putting them together.

You Want My Weapons? 

Start with this one.

"This is an account of a dream I had some time back; I’m only just now getting around to putting it down, but it’s one of those memorable ones, and kind of funny in a sad sort of way. 

Anyway, in the dream I’m basically my own self, a little old gramma lady. 

I’m just getting home from somewhere and ready to turn my key in the lock when a couple of official-looking men in suits step into my front porch behind me.

I look around, smile and say hello, ask if I can help them with anything.

They don’t smile back. 

They ask me who I am, so I tell them.  They ask me if I live here and of course, as I’m in the middle of unlocking my front door, I say yes, a little confused but what the heck, may as well be polite.

‘Ma’am, according to our records you own a weapon.  As you know, all weapons have been required to be seized by our agency.  We would like you to turn your weapon over to us.’

Now I get it.  I understand who and what they are and what they want.  I admit it gets on my nerves a little. 

‘I’ll hand it over as soon as I’m done using it, okay?’

Now they’re the ones who are a little confused. 

I finish turning my key in the lock, then turn quickly to the one closest to me and have that key snugged up just under one of his ears alongside of his neck before he can react. 

Putting a little pressure on, just because I want to, I say, ‘Okay, you can have this one, for starters.’

The poor guy is still too startled to resist when I smile and put the key into his hand. 

‘Come on in.  I hope you aren’t in a hurry, because I have a lot of weapons in my home.’

They follow me inside, not saying anything. 

‘Now, let’s see … where should I start?’ 

I head back to my antique kitchen and start gathering up all my cast iron skillets.  When I’ve got as much as I can carry I tote them on out and set them beside the curb at the street.

Then I go back for my collection of rolling pins. 

Opening the cupboard doors I start pulling out all the canned goods. 

‘Ma’am, what are you doing?’

‘I’m giving you guys all my weapons, what does it look like I’m doing?’

Handing each of them a bunch of cans, as they may as well be making themselves useful, I tell them to carry them out to the curb. 

I imagine they’re still too shocked to refuse.

When we pass each other, one manages to find his voice and protests, ‘Ma’am, these aren’t weapons.’

I give him a big grin and say, ‘Wanna bet?’

Then I throw one of the cans I’m carrying as hard as I can against the wall across the room, where it duly makes a big old dent and loosens the plaster so it falls on the floor and leaves a hole in the wall. 

I think that gets their attention. 

Because most everything in either of my kitchens can be used as a weapon, we cleaned them out. 

Then I made them help me get the appliances out, both the antique cookstove and the modern electric one (from the new kitchen) because, well, you know hot things can really cause some serious burns and all that, and freezers and refrigerators can give a person frostbite if they should happen to get locked in there. 

Then out go all the dressers in the house because, gee whiz, a person could slam someone’s fingers in them and disable that someone, right? 

Bedding and clothes, because how easy would it be to smother or strangle someone with them? 

Mattresses and box springs go out by the curb as well, because they have dangerous things in them like metal coils. 

Bed frames are a no-brainer because you could take those metal rails, and/or the headboards and footboards, to brain somebody. 

I notice one of them on his phone and tell him, ‘Yeah, backup is a good idea – better tell them to bring a couple of big trucks; that pile of weapons out there is getting pretty big and the neighbors might complain if we don’t get it all out of here right quick.’

They’re thoroughly bemused and completely confused by now but I’m relentless. 

When we get to my studio, everything in there goes out to the curb too, because everything is a potential weapon. 

When we get down to the bare walls, I go out to the curb and rummage around until I find a pry bar and a hammer, go back into the house and begin whopping at the walls, pulling off plaster and yanking out lath and 2x4, turning on them as though I’m going to whop them or poke them with those pieces of wood with all those nails poking out of them. 

They kind of fall back and let me alone. 

When I have a big enough opening, I start pulling out the wiring. 

‘You can’t do that, ma’am; it’s dangerous.  That wiring could kill you.’

‘Yep.  It’s a weapon, ain’t it?’

When I’ve pulled out a bunch of wiring, enough to make them really nervous, I start on the plumbing. 

When I break a piece of PVC pipe loose, it’s got sharp points and I aim it at one of them like I’m going to skewer him.  He kind of cringes back some and I laugh. 

I lug it all out to the curb, then sit and rest for a minute on my front steps. 

I’m eyeballing them like they’re snakes and tell them, ‘I’ve made a good beginning, but if you want me to surrender all of my weapons, you’re going to have to get some help.  You’ll need some heavy equipment to get this all done, so you’d best be making your phone calls and getting to it.  I’ll surrender all my weapons but, you know, I’m just a little old gramma lady and I’m old and fragile while you two are young and agile, so I’m gonna just sit here and supervise while you confiscate all the weapons on my property.

When you get the house and cellar and fence all carted away, you’re gonna have to cut down all these trees, because if you don’t take them away from here I’m liable to make myself some bows and arrows and spears and such out of them.  Those ash branches make awesome shillelaghs, you know.  Better take the roots too because those suckers are tough and if I took it into my head to bean you with one of them you might not wake up until next week some time.’

And then I woke up laughing.

Remembering the dream, I stopped laughing and started getting a little mad.

I’m INFJ, remember?

Obviously what had been on my mind was all the brouhaha about the second amendment and how in some places people were taking in weapons to voluntarily surrender them, because they’re convinced it’s the right thing to do, and how in other places people are outraged at the very idea of such a thing happening in this country. 

One section of my mind circles around and around that old saying ‘Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile’.

I picture that little old gramma lady in my dream, standing buck nekkid on the barren earth of her home, because even the holes had been filled in (someone might fall in them and hurt themselves).

I remember researching the history of the Ukraine.  I remember researching the history of the Germans from Russia. I remember learning about WWII.

My mind is an entertaining place to visit, absolutely true. 

Everything in there bops around seemingly at random, pops up in strange and unexpected places, and flits about until it finds a place to fit.

Then when it finds that place to light, it sends out tentacles or some such in search of other bits and pieces that might also fit and make the picture of this weird puzzle a little more interesting. 

All on its own, mind you – it’s not like I’m in there actively orchestrating the whole thing. 

Are you nuts?  I couldn’t do it if my life depended on it, not on purpose, that’s for sure!

It’s just the way the thoughts zing around in there even when I’m technically focusing on something totally different that demands my attention and concentration.

You just never know what’s going to pop to the surface at any given time.

See, this is how come INFJs get labeled weird/crazy/odd/out there somewhere/etc. etc. etc. ad infinitum ad nauseum.

That’s why you don’t want to be asking us what’s on our mind just randomly out of the blue; you never know what you’re going to get.

That thing on Facebook, where it DOES ask you what’s on your mind – pretty darned risky question should we ever decide to actually go with what might be on our mind at any given time. 

Well, that was a little detour off the point, wasn’t it?

At any rate, another section of my mind is circling around yet another bit of data – namely the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.

Because that’s what I do, that’s how my mind functions, the thoughts and ideas circle and circle and pick up other bits of thoughts and ideas along the way. 

And one of the thoughts it picks up along the way is that thing about giving them an inch. 

I have an abiding fear that we have given up that inch and are in dire danger of looking the other way while the mile is getting eaten up. 

Sigh.

Having such an imaginative mind can be daunting. 

Sometimes it’s really not a lot of fun.

Sometimes I have really weird dreams, too."

Epilogue

The little old lady stands stark naked on the smooth dirt beneath her feet where her home stood not so very long ago. She stares up at a little white puff of a cloud in the blue blue sky and smiles.

Humming a fragment of a song even more ancient than she is, she straightens her back, tilts her head a little as though listening, lifts her chin, and strides across the dirt, leaving the prints of her small feet in her wake.

To the northwest corner of what had been her yard she strides.

Once there, still humming, she kneels and pokes a slender forefinger into the dirt.

Smiling at the little hole it makes, the naked little old lady pokes another hole in the dirt, and then another and another.

A pattern emerges and she steps back to gaze on it for a moment before continuing with her solitary task.

Along the property line she makes her way, creating her pattern as she goes.

After several passes she stops again and stands gazing at what she has wrought.

Standing as still as still can be she looks and looks at the design she has made in the smooth bare dirt of what was her yard.

The humming becomes louder as tears fill her eyes, course her face, and drop to the smooth bare dirt at her feet.

As she stands weeping, her right hand moves to rest over her heart and she feels the pulsing there beneath her slim fingers.

Alone and still motionless she begins to Sing.

As the Song progresses her Voice becomes stronger, louder, until her very heart is racing beneath her fingers.

'Oh say can you see by the dawn's early light what so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?'

As she sinks to the earth with the last notes of the Song on her lips, she murmurs, 'Quack you. You forgot something.'

And the Stars and Stripes that she has created in the bare dirt of what had been her home waver a little, as though touched by a breeze, through her tears.

'You forgot to take my Voice, and my Spirit.'

And the little old lady, naked, kneels where she is and prays.

2015  10  01  0245

A couple of decades ago I owned a rifle. It wasn't a fancy rifle but it fit me well and suited me just fine. Then I gave it away to someone who needed it more than I did. Years after that and years before now I bought a pellet rifle, mainly because it looks enough like a 'real' one from a distance to make people think it was real. Never used it even once. 

I haven't been real big on having an actual 'weapon' for myself. I'm still not, truth be told. While choosing to remain unarmed myself, I've never had a problem with the many (many) friends and relatives who own and use firearms. We live with hunting and fishing. Owning a rifle or shotgun is about like owning a fishing pole. (Yes, I do own a fishing pole. Bought it two or three years ago and it's still in its package.) Handguns, that's a little different but I still have never had a problem with those who want them. Target shooting isn't uncommon - and with things being the way they're becoming, I'm glad and more than a little relieved to know there are so many people around who carry. I just never really wanted to arm myself, knives excluded. I appreciate a good knife. You can use them to cut up fruits and vegetables and such, and they don't take up much space no matter where I happen to keep them.

However, not too long ago a situation developed that had the potential to turn into something lethal. I learned a long time ago that if somebody says something about shooting someone you don't want to laugh it off and assume they're joking. Maybe they are, but maybe they aren't. Better to err on the side of safety, sez I. At any rate, the situation got de-fused without any shooting.

It did, however, reveal several different reactions to the threat.

Some people really did laugh it off.

Some people said, 'Well, nothing's happened yet, we don't know if they even have a gun,' and blew it off.

Some people went out and bought themselves guns.

Me, I wrote a statement for the police and so did several others. I have good cause to believe in the effectiveness of good officers, I do. They've saved my life literally, and had my back frequently.

I figure an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure.

Now, I wasn't there when the potential shooter was confronted with news of the statements of some of us (and possibly that guns had been acquired by others) and I can't really actually read the minds of other people, but the fact is that nobody got shot. 

Whether as a result of an exceptional police officer doing his job extremely well, the probability of prosecution for making such threats, or the fact that somebody might actually shoot back ... nobody got shot. A tragedy averted makes no dead bodies. 

What all was going through the mind of our potential shooter I can't say for sure. What I am sure of is that if you tell someone that 1) it's not okay to make threats to shoot somebody, and 2) the police are going to look for you and find you if you do, and 3) if by chance you really do try to shoot somebody you're likely to be summarily shot your own self ... that someone is liable to shut up and sit down (or better yet just go away) and not shoot anybody.

An ounce of prevention.

Extrapolate.