The Evolution of MON (excerpts plus video)

Hell in a Basket

A sharp stomache spasm awakes Drew as she lies alone, buried under black soot and debris. Her body bounces then errupts from pain rising from the ash, bruised, sick and shaking uncontrollably. She immediately coughs up a gross ball of black dust mixed with mucus, spitting it out while gasping for air as if she'd been forced to swallow something foul. No amount of vomiting could stop the poison from being absorbed. Her eyes slit open, her hands burning, wabbling around to see if she is still in one piece. She cries while pulling the remaining hair from her head. The blast has singed her hair off of her scalp. Untill she hears another crying.

She makes her way through a darkened plane of nothingness, around mangled bits of debris to find a baby crying in pain from a two foot piece of jagged steel that has it pinned upright before her. Drew is horrified and screams back at the baby. "No! This can't be happening. No!" She snaps grabbing a piece of burnt wood she finds protruding. She clinches her teeth and clasps the wood tight, hurling it over. "No!" The baby's horrific cries demand her to act. She cries rushing to the baby taking hold of his head. "Hush. Hush." The baby's head wields back in agony, screaming and Drew's eyes gaze down upon the damage. There is no way to seperate the baby from the steel. Drew weeps as she sees the two are welded together. "Baby, oh Baby. I'm so sorry." She gently clasps the baby's screaming head and steadies. With a hurl from Drew's heart, her arms fill with strength and her face full of anguish, she snaps the baby's head back, breaking it's neck quickly, letting out her own scream. "Hell! Hell! Hell!" Her screams quickly turn to bellowing howls as she swings her body around away from the sight of the dead baby. She hits the ground and pounds it with her blackened fists. A dark cloud of ash is caving into the sunset on the horizon, the yellow turns to orange and dark crimson viens begin to weave across the sky until eventually the dark consumes it.

(end of excerpt chapter1)




"This isn't our country anymore. We've lost. The rest of the world has taken over. Imagine there's no countries." She laughs and sings, "sees if you try, but this was hell and we know it..."
"They've got everything they need except our DNA. Don't let them get your DNA boy, all they need is to feed them into our digital profiles and they'll have everything they need."
The young thumper of a boy who is anxiously staring at the old woman as she rambles on, quickly gets up and moves on, as if he had somewhere else to go. "What the hell you talkin' you old bitch! I don't know you people, you're all fucking strangers, stay away from me." He shouts and pushes through the crowd.
"And he that smite the stranger is forbidden to enter unto the kingdom. The Kingdom of MON." She bows her head in despair, "You know nothing..." She looks out at the banding of wondering strangers and shakes her head. "They know nothing." (end of excerpt chapter 2)



The Voice The dark was her face. The longer you look, the less you see. It was the voice that came in crystal clear. Sudden at the start, the low voice begins reciting with passionate declaration, confession, whatever, when Emerson clicked start, the force of the voice frightened him. The voice says. "You don't know me. That's a good thing. By the time you find out what I'm about to say is true, you'll have no recourse. A terrorist act has occured that will inevitably bring about the extinction of men. I would be surprised to find a way out of this, but who wouldn't love a good surprise about now?...While you were taking that last physical or recieving treatment for any illness, you may have elected to undergo gene correction therapy. This practice, which is irriversable, will eventually bring about the extinction of all male babies."
Emerson watched the video several times and wished he had never even heard of it. It was so remarkable and horrific that it just couldn't be true. It had to be a joke. The sordid, pathetic ramblings of a mad person. That's what his brain wanted to know. His heart beat with rapid truth however, as he paced over the lab floor. It just couldn't be. So he summoned up the statistics and began a private study of his own.





Although Emerson was relentless, the tests were wearing him down. Attempt after attempt failed to reverse the gene. In fact, his findings revealed to him something even more frustrating, the gene was now super resistent to any kind of strain or tampering. He could not alter it at all. Once the gene had been corrected, it's barriers folded it into a perfect sphinx. After working forty eight hours straight and eating nutritional snacks from the dispenser, even he could see his own ego sinking. He was finnally prepared to believe the gene could never be changed back. It can never be changed again. But, he still called in a couple of experts. Before Emmerson could bring his findings to the board's attention, he had to have a few private meetings. The first one with General Ossert, the cities parliment consort. "Do you know of any males born within our installation as of the time we began?" Emerson asked him. Ossert sat and reviewed the data Emerson brought for him. He was more interested in the question and thought before answering. "No." He put the data down and let Emerson spell it out. "There have been fifty females born since the day we arrived. All born have been female." "So all the birthmothers were GCT recipients?" "Is that what the data confirms?" Ossert relies. "Yes." "Well then, I guess that's true." Ossert seems easy to convince, but as Emerson feared, not so easily catching on. "General, I think we should consider filing for a panel to review our future chances of ever bearing a son again. That is because all of the women here have recieved GCT according to this data." Within hours a larger group was gathered, working to confirm their data. General Ossart sat aside several Marshalls from the Chadwick and Nashall empires while Emmerson made the brief points with visual aids virtually displayed in front of them. "Gentlemen, we have to search the surface for females on the outside that have not recieved GCT, gene correction therapy." Emmerson virtually scrolls down the list of females within the compound. "All thirty two thousand of our female occupants have recieved the treatment and are all projected to birth only females as a result." Joseph Chadwick cocked his head. "What?" "This is what I'm suggesting. We can poll it." Emmerson continued to make his proposal while faces turned confused. "We can scan over much of the planet..." Chadwick stops him. "Wait." He gains Emmerson's attention. "Why do we need to do this?" "Because we may have made a mistake." "What mistake?" "The GCT these females recieved is altering the outcome of our plan." "How so?" Emmerson repeats, "By eliminating the male of the species." Chadwick ask earnestly. "What about odds?" Emmerson is ashamed to admit it. "I.... I... I can't fix it. There are no odds."
(end of excerpt)

Iceland Forces Debt Forgiveness : MEDIA BLACKOUT The Biggest Story of 20...

Taken (from my other blog)

Taken

*****


Millions of hand written pages I thought I tossed away, have never left my brain. But, I'll tell you what I don't have, thousands of physical items I once had possession of, shoes, clothes, furniture, gifts from loved ones; time to kill, invitations to be, now all gone; vases, chairs, a bed I so deeply cherished and tried to hold on to, gone. Of spatulas and DVD's, cameras and honey bees, nothing remains the same. There is nothing more constant than change.

My mind covers about two hundred kilometers a minute of all things past and I can't slow it down except to stop my whole body and breathe. It's so tiring, I have to be alone because people bother me. They say things they do not mean and do things without thinking of how it will effect anyone else. The self preservation is understandable, so I just try to preserve myself without them because I would probably be dead if I let them have control.

I once investigated a homocide scene where four people lay dead from gunshot wounds and it turned out that they were taken for a measley amount of two hundred dollars. That's fifty dollars a piece for each of those lives. All the worth they might have tried to be, all the tangible or pysical value they might have tried to produce was leveled down to fifty dollars by someone with revenge eating away at his brain and methamphetamines, a lethal mixture. One of the thousands of combinations that bring about death. Think about the millions whom have died over some pocket cash, maybe even less than fifty dollars, sometimes even seventy five cents, a piece of candy, a pair of tennis shoes, a jacket or a hat. Is your life, is anybodies worth only that?

To all the parents and grandparents, sisters and brothers, doctors and lawyers that wish they could help fight off these destructive addictions, don't suggest the lame solution of God or the lame solution of therapy and by all means don't give them any reason to take your money or steal your items of proposed value, just resign to get rid of it all and say "I advocate a Resouce Based Economy model for society", because that is the only way to fix the situation. If you have nothing of value that you can call yours, there is nothing to sell, nothing to steal. Often, the only thing that protects your possessions from being taken is to kill those who are trying to take it from you, and is that really what you want to do? You may not know it, even just a few minutes before it happens, but if it ever comes to that, your behavior may shock you.

And the moment that you pull that trigger or poison that tea or set off that backpack bomb or load that machine gun or man that tank, you've done it, you have resorted to the lowest of morality, by meaning to take a life for a physical possession that isn't even yours, and will never be yours, because all things physical cannot transcend with you at the end of your life. You don't even have the capacity to take along with you your physical body, Your face, your hair, your eyes, your limbs, all the millions of thoughts hidden in your brain, it all stays to decompose. So what have you done? You have killed someone to save an item that is of the earth only as you might be taken to the heavens, or wherever the hell you go.

I don't profess to know God or even try to understand it. It's not mine to completely understand, I cannot capture the universe as it is or has been because I am a small part and I will change and before I can even see the thing, it is one way and as my eyes might arrange a viewing, it has absolutely changed.

Beats with Spoken Word

Beats with Spoken Word

I knew it was a revolution when I didn't need to wait for someone to discover me or try so hard to be noticed or paid that little crumpet that some huge corporation was gonna throw my way after I put in one hundred and fifty  hours in one week on a salary. I knew it was a revolution when it became clear that over the internet I could chat with friends in China or be the numerous talented artists I was and upload our works to numerous sites or exchange and share networks without even leaving my name. I knew it was a revolution when no one needed to wait to do what they wanted or needed to do for themselves or for others without much else but a good system, op system and a favorite piece of software.

I could find anything, share anything, learn anything and do just about anything with this fantastic new tool. Scarcity and secret lines to success were gone. Walls had fallen and even though it meant that my whole life was a struggle for, what seemed like forever, was over now. The flood gates are now open and all it takes is for the person to figure that out.

Race Against the Machine: Andrew McAfee at TEDxBoston

"GEEK LIKE ME"