Dust on a Dusty road..

Moving again..

2010-02-12T07:55:00.000-08:00

Moving to Dust on a Dusty Road (. com) :)

Finally made the switch. Blogger -> Wordpress

2007-07-09T17:40:00.000-07:00

In my eyes blogger has been outdated a while, even after their beta project went out of beta and all that. I just couldn't get myself to let go of the custom template I spent so many hours customizing in its time. But after getting tired of the same old look I decided that I could make the switch as well as changing the look of my blog. Allthough it's gonna be a new look it will still be the same content meaning: Random stuff, Poetry, Fantasy Writing, Random stuff, About Me, Random stuff.

New blog address:
http://dustyro.wordpress.com

If anyone of you have links to my blog on your own blogs can you please change them to the above address ?
Thanks in advance.

A few things + The new 'Retired' Assasin part.

2007-07-08T14:48:00.000-07:00

Well because I decided to start up my blog again, which basically means start writing something that I like to call creative again, I decided to write a little something for the Retired Assasin. I will probably write more parts for the Retired assasin series later, and might even come up with a better name for it, because I have an uncompleted temporary storyline at the moment. So I’m sitting here on a close to useless portable pc writing this while even the program “Word” laggs the computer, hoping that someone will read this and enjoy it. Also I’d like a few comments. For those who do not know, “The ‘Retired’ Assasin” is in the medieval fantasy genre. The weather is quite bad at the moment, but due to a trip to one of the nearest towns, I seem to have mostly whatever I would need for when the weather gets better(hopefully). I wish you all a great summer from here.

The ‘Retired’ Assasin Part 9

The young man known as “ The Beast” by his enemies was wondering wether he should rejoice over their recent victory or not. Because from what he had heard, the king’s royal guard was supposed to be a larger force than the enemy they had just fought, and the council that chose him had also told him not to count on underestimation from the King and his advisors. Maybe they were simply trying to lull him into a false sense of security, and as he thought of it they had succeded in doing that to his men, he had actually had protests when he denied their request to start a huge campfire to celebrate, also when he denied them to pursue the retreaters, something that the men, his men had made into a tradition after entering the lands of the thieves. The stench of human and horse urine alike made it near unbearable to just sit still in the camp, causing a huge amount of noise because the soldiers all tended to weapons or horses or food, the food which had to be served cold due to Rendal’s orders, causing even more protests from his men.

Despite their protests none of them would even consider going against his orders because of what had happened last time in a similar situation. Rendal had proved that his “head was in the right place” over and over again. Also many of the seemingly crowded tents were basically falling apart, and the fact that there were trees almost everywhere made it hard to see even some order among it all. The camp looked like a lot of tents assorted randomly among the trees. Except for Rendal and Sarize’s Tents and a few other tents that was placed in a perfect circle around a clearing in which the ashes of past fires lay. The young man called Rendal was sitting on an improvised bench, of his own making. A broad plank balanced across two huge wooden stocks.

As he was imagining all apparent reasons for the enemy’s defeat he did not notice that one of his officers, hi only one to be exact, Sarize, was standing infront of him, until she cleared her throat loudly. “What?” He said irritably, “You’ve been sitting here for hours. The men, your men are loosing sight of what they are doing here in the woods, to them it was a surprise that you ordered a stop to their plans of pursuit of the thieves retreat.” He licked his lips slightly before answering, sounding rather annoyed. “Sarize, have i not told you already?” She sighed and looked severely at him with her round brown eyes. “Yes Rendal, but your men need to hear it from you it seems.” Rendal sighed loudly, Why don’t they get it? Sarize smiled at him, So young he thought. She was the oldest of the two, but he still felt that she was too young to be there. Too young to risk her life for a cause not her own, like himself.

The temporary end of Part 9. I am hoping to be able to add new additions to my blog as I’m going home tomorrow, and after that I will head north in Norway to stay at my grandmothers place and meet some of my relatives. I also hope that you will now comment after reading through. Hopefully I will also manage to add more poetry and/or fantasy writing as the summer continues.

Please visit the blog of the week: Life at the edge

Also I'm planning on doing a "surf-a-ton" evening/night to tuesday to get some new readers.
Everybody have a great summer.

Summer.

2007-06-30T09:44:00.000-07:00

At last the summer has arrived along with a 2 months long vacation, wherein I find myself without much to do.
Most of my friends have already gone somewhere, the rest are either busy or even more lazy than myself, so basically i don't have anything to do until the evenings. So i figured it would be a good idea to start my blog back up.
Even as most of the people I know, including other people than my friends, most of have summer as a favourite part of the year, sitting inside or outside, bored for the most of the time, i'm not so sure, also I'm painting our fence which is turning out to be even more boring than i ever imagined, and after a 2 day test, i showed symptoms of a mix of mild tourettes and a less aggresive ADHD than perhaps what most of you think of when the term ADHD comes up. I don't have a sufficient vocabulary in english to explain exactly what troubles this presents for me, but I cannot do anything without reason or motivation, instead of what would seem like regular laziness to most people but it is close to impossible for me to do something that I am unmotivated to do.

Getting things done.

2007-05-06T11:43:00.000-07:00

I have added some categories and working on more, I'm also collecting ideas for continuing the retired assasin and The life of the damned. Hope you all are getting along well also.

I'm lazy

2007-04-29T17:21:00.000-07:00

I find it a bit funny that I'm too lazy to even post a blog post now and then, I even like it, its just that beginning the post is alway stressful to me. But even so, I looked up my blog and I noticed that it was still the same post as it was a couple of weeks ago, even though I said earlier that I would post something a few times a week.
So I ended up here, sitting in front of my computer at 02.30 AM on a Sunday, (I have Monday off this week), with a huge 0.6 l glass of water sitting next to my keyboard. I'm too lazy to walk back and forth with a smaller glass.
Anyway, here it goes. Can't write anything, can't write anything.
I'll give it a try in the morning. Anyway, have a great evening/night/afternoon/morning.

Am I crazy?

2007-04-15T14:20:00.000-07:00

No I am not asking you to figure out if I have a mental issue based on the many/few posts you may have read. But I am asking you to answer this uh, simple question.
Does picking a battle with my own character make me crazy?
I mean, I have planned to undo/diminish my flaw of being overly lazy at times.. Is it even possible? I wonder.
Also I want to be able to cope with rutines, I'm not much of a organized person, not at all, but I want to try and succeed at organizing some small part of my life to enable me to do my duties in time..
Is this an impossible task and/or a waste of my time, and makes me crazy if i try it?

Poetry among other things.

2007-04-12T12:52:00.000-07:00

The weird smile.

The sun a coin of molten fire.
Heating like a huge pyre.
The dunes of sand stretched out as far as the eye could see.
The sting of sun upon uncovered skin felt like the sting of a bee.
A man dressed in black, stood on a dune and watched over to the east.
His eyes were crazed, his mind was dazed, and he thought he saw a feast.

The sun a coin of molten fire.
Heating like a huge pyre.
The man had no water, and he had not had a drink since the end of the last week.
He should have been dead but his soul did not break loose and leave him with a shriek.
He could barely stand as his eyes saw only the feast.
He could not move nor walk, no, not in the least.

The sun a coin of molten fire.
Heating lite a huge pyre.
The man tried to move and as a result was forced to fall.
He had not realized the dune he was on had a drop quite so tall.
As he landed below the top of the dune he had sank down to his hips.
His mind was lost as he thought he was swimming and kissing a woman on the lips.
The heat of the sand he was in, forced his death to come to.
Though he died of thirst in a desert he was smiling weirdly at you.
The last thing he did, in his mind at least, was something desirable to do.
He had actually lived for more than a year in fact one hundred and two.

Major changes coming up for this blog:
I am going to add categories for you to easily be able to read what you like best.
I am going to post several times a week for a longer period of time.
I am going to keep "The blog of the Week" alive and might even add an award given time.
I am going to do my best to improve the design and content.

Also, I strongly reccomend that you visit this week's blog of the week, New York Nitty-Gritty.
Otilius has an amazing eye when it comes to taking pictures.

The life of The Damned.. Part 2

2007-04-11T08:19:00.000-07:00

For some the actions of the characters might seem apalling and I would not reccomend you to read it if you abhor reading about violence/criminalities no matter what the story. I do not however base the entire text on violence and "criminalities" so if you are up to reading something inventive for a change you would do yourself a favor by reading on.

The Mender felt exhausted as he walked away from the alley, and despite the young woman's urgent tone he could not make himself increase the pace of his walk. Typical, I have just mended her and she tries to tell me what to do in return.. "My lady is hold captive by your organization, They torture her often and for no reason at all." She was repeating herself he noticed, but he did not offer her the slightest amount of attention. "For Great Mother's sake! She needs your help or she will be tattooed!" Abrubtly he stopped, the woman's lady was also a witch? For Mother's sake indeed. "Fine I'll help. Do you have any idea where they hold her?" He didn't want anyone to experience the same fate as him, not even a witch. The tattoo at the back of his neck started throbbing lightly, a slight reminder from his mistress that he should have been back at his room by now. After the endless hours of being tortured for the smallest missteps he almost didn't notice. Something dragging at his right arm snatched the endless array of thoughts away from him, "This way." The young woman standing at his side said as she was dragging him eastwards. After a while of pacing through narrow streets in this filthy town she dragged him to a halt in front of a middle-sized house with the mark of the damned on it. The black hand with no thumb was placed straight above the huge doorframe. The house was not large, but not small either, and the fact that there was a large amount of clear space to all sides of it confirmed the fact that this was a residency of the damned. Noone wanted to live close to the damned.

He straightened and shook his head slightly, realizing that it was a bad idea. Then he opened the door. A huge man was blocking his path, "You have no right to barge in here, Mender!" The man right out shouted the words into his face. "Your mistress will hear of this." Another voice said, the threat did not affect the Mender in the least. Instead he willed for the damned and his mender to be slung to his wall. He focused his mind on it and felt strength seep out of him at the same time as the clash of flash against wood was heard. He ran over to the blackhaired woman lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, took her into his arms and ran out. The last thing he heard as he exited building was three strained words. "She will hear." He ran with her in his arms to the nearest alley, and did not stop focusing on holding the damned and his mistress pinned to the wall until he could no longer see the house or the street it was in. After that he paused in a specifically dark and narrow alley were he healed her wounds that had been created by torture. When he brushed the hair aside from here face he looked properly at her for the first time. His eyes widened as he noticed her features, her face was an image of perfection. This seemed odd to him, but after she came to, he led her towards the wooden town gates. He hid all the tattoos and the mark on his uniform when they neared the gate, and amazingly they came through without any trouble. Abruptly he started feeling a maddeningly painful sensation of burning heat all across his skin, he fell to his knees grunting in pain, he thought this was what happened to damned who walked beyond the town border, it was not until he was lying on his side cringing in pain and the woman with the perfect face leaned down, put her face clearly in front of his and smiled wickedly he realized it was her. "I saved you." He said and the effort of it sent him into unconsciousness.
The mender was sitting on a grassy hill watching the sun set holding the hand of the woman sitting next to him. Her face was oddly familiar but he could not tie the face to a name or any memories. So he decided to just sit there and enjoy the view however, he did not let go of her hand, somehow it felt comforting holding her hand, he had no idea why he should be upset. A realization came to him "This is a dream" He thought, but given his inability to remember anything the moment after he thought it, it was gone from his mind.

At the same time a women of remarkable resemblance to the one mender was watching the sunset with was pacing around a large room thinking. Why would he dissapear like that? She thought, and even though she allready had a myriad of answers, none of them seemed to hold up with the fact that he had felt an enormous amount of pain before she could no longer feel him. He could not be dead, she hoped he was not, he might see it differently but she had begun to take a liking to her so called student. and if he was not dead allready she was not about to let him stay in the bad company he obviously was in. But she could do nothing unless he returned from unconsciousness. Will he return from the dead to if that is what he is? A voice said inside her head, she reminded herself that everything went better when you stayed positive. And decided to even as hard as it was, to stay positive. She took red bracelet from the table in front of her and fastened it to her right arm and reminded herself to stay positive. Abrubltly she started to sense him again, and at that she ran out of the room to fetch help. She had never felt so relieved in her life.

The mender was still sitting silently on a grassy hill watching the sunset holding the hand of a woman when his vision started to fade, it felt like someone was slapping him but he could see nothing so he thought he imagined it. He felt another slap land on his left cheek, he ignored it. Another one, he opened his eyes slowly. The first thing that greeted his eyes was a hand rushing forward against his face. He tried to raise his hands to shield himself but to his surprise found that they could not budge. The hand landed on his left cheek hard enough to make him taste blood.

Will add more later..

The life of the Damned Part 1

2007-04-09T04:48:00.000-07:00

I have been suffering from a severe case of writer's block lately, but suddenly as I was kind of boring myself nearly to death my imagination worked itself to new hights. If you're reading this, I hope you will consider reading the entire post and even post a comment. Thank you in advance. Oh and if you notice any difference in the size of the letters, I'm on my brothers laptop at the moment, sitting in some damn old house far out in the countryside.

There was a cold breeze blowing into the face of the Mender as he drew closer to the backstreet in where his chosen victim lay in shock. Mender, bah! They call me damned for the simplest reason, I am different. He noticed the positure of her body as he came closer, she was simply lying slumped in a curled ball, bloody and beaten. He readied himself, he cleared out all thoughts and daydreams, this was not a time to be distracted.
As he walked into the dirty alley, he crouched down in front of her and took her head into his gloved hands. “Brisman, what happened to this poor gal?” he asked the man for order standing to his left. “The poor girl was raped, back and front, by many damn pervs, 5 is my guess. And mender, do your best.” “I always do.” She's likely to be past any of the other “damned”'s abilitys, so they send me! He thought angrily, but there was no question in him helping her or not, he would help any within his ability, and he doubted there were any that he wouldn't be able to “mend”. He focused on his hands, he put his entire awareness into focusing on his hands as he felt the sides of her head. He kept focusing entirely on the fingertips of his hand until something snatched his consience away and into the unknown. He could sense memories and sensations all around his extended awareness and he floated willingly around until he arrived at the source of her physical pain, and then he put his will to stop the floating and followingly he stopped.

He tenderly entered the source of the pain with extended tendrils of his awareness, this singular memory had been enough to shatter the remaints of sanity that had been present in her mind before the incident. Poor young girl. He thought just as he realized that she was just about his age. Time to get to work then. He let himself float around and about the girl's awareness noting to himself what she could be doing lying in an alley at this time of day. After a while he figured that the best he could come up with was that she had been robbed, which wouldn't carry with it the everlasting memory and pain that rape would.

So he thought of the memory as he remembered it, and sure enough, when he entered the memory closest to him, it was obvious that it was the right one. First, a blow to the head, and then awakening to the terrorizing fact that there were men standing all around her, and that she had something foul-tasting in her mouth. He instead thought of waking up laying pained and slumped curled in a tight ball realizing that her money was gone. And as he thought, her memory changed, making it identical to his idea. He simply prolonged the lying through the length of the memory, spicing it up with some twisting and a few sounds, but as he did, he was forced to experience the rape as she did, and allthought this pained him, he tried to convince himself that he had felt worse, allthough he wasn't sure that he had. In the aftermath of finishing with her memory, he was simply floating around willingly letting himself being pulled around by the swirling presences of sensations and memories. Then he caught himself, and started out for the source of the physical pain, at the center of the nerves in her awareness. And then he flung his entire awareness between the nerves and her own awareness and willed thepain to pass faster, increasing incredibly in amount of pain, but it wouldn't last longer then a few seconds, as his mind wen't blank by maddening agony he willed it to pass faster and as he did the pain increased. Yet after 15 seconds that seemed to last forever the pain let go, and this bode well, for then the wounds would have knitted back together and the flesh would have healed. This was a crucial time for he had to get out before she returned from her state of unconsiousness.

Yet when he tried to swirl past the edge of her awareness he heard the word “Ungelistable” uttered. Damn, she just had to be one eh? Of course, we are talking about my luck here. He was close to despair as he hurried to the edge of her awareness. As he was closing the edge of her awareness, a spark of hope was born but as he reached it he felt himself blocked. Bloody witch. His mind rang as 3 words were spoken by an insanely loud voice “Well hello there.” The voice seemingly slightly amused. “Don't do this to me.” He imagined himself speaking inside his mind. The voice spoke again, it was clearly female. “Why not, you entered by your own accord of course. You wouldn't happen to be this lad who has his hands on the sides of my head would you ?” “I was simply here to 'mend' your wounds after the robbery. As to your other question, yes that is me.” “You seem young to be one of the damned in this town.” “Am I supposed to
tolerate this from you?” “Well since you're at my mercy here, I'd suggest that you learn some manners, or else I'd might decide to get you lost.. Forever."

About me..

2007-03-04T12:49:00.000-08:00

I realize that I've not let you know much about me, so I think it is about time I let the world know a few things about my person. I'm young, I bet you've realized that allready.. Anyhow, I've never experienced being in love and as it is of today, I dinstance myself from all the bs thats going on about everyone needing love cause I'm managing quite fine over here. I'm a bit paranoid, I hate self pity, in myself and in others, and most of the times I am almost content with my life, and this almost contentness sometimes leads to loneliness, depression, and hated self-pity which does not last more than a few minutes at a time cause I am able to think of other things or do something. Allthough I'm trying to make a few changes in it, I either am not motivated enough for it or simply do not have the will power to do it, cause I am failing at changing the daily course of my life. I have just been in Rome, and allthough a bit dissapointed at the taste of the food there vs. restaurants in small towns in Toscana, the food was definately not why I was there and the days went on like this. Breakfast - Sightseeing - Lunch - Sightseeing - Reading in my bed at the hotel - Dinner - More reading. I took a few photos, I think it was 100 or 200. I will get about adding them later.
I don't have a lot of friends, I have like 4-5 friends which I spend my weeks with. My hobbies are music, playing the base gituar and movies. Thats actually all I can come up with right now.

To rome for me...

2007-02-23T17:38:00.000-08:00

Great men has once said that all roads leads to rome, and by saying "great men" I do not mean men whose power has enabled them to terrorize their people in terrible ways, I mean men who has had the wisdom to realize that even though the centre of wisdom did not exist, the centre of power was indeed the centre of power do exist, and this enables for the possibility of a centered world, that gets ideas and inspiration from the centre of power.
Somehow I find that the time has come for me to travel to this never forgotten once upon a time centre of power. I will see if I can bring you some photos of my own when i return.

Happy Valentine's Day

2007-02-14T06:16:00.000-08:00

Have a wonderful and romantic Valentine's day y'all!
(And to those that realize that Valentine's Day is a product of capitalism, well, have a good regular day.. lol)

Serial killers.

2007-02-13T15:14:00.000-08:00

Most serial killers are seriously deluded, in other words, totally insane crackheads that think they do stuff for reasons that are made up of 95% complete bullshit. Some of them are so insane that they do it for what they call "fun", they do it because they like it, and some (in my eyes the most seriously insane crackheads) do it because they believe it helps their victims. I wonder how one human being belive it has the right to actually decide whats good for another human being. And espescially how can a human being kill another human being based on his/her beliefs. What made these people known as serial killers act the way they have done? It's often said that child molesters where molested themselves as a child, but it's quite hard for a living serial killer to have been killed by a serial killer when he/she was a child, so what turns these people into the monsters they become? I believe that if a childs childhood is incredibly lacking, the child will evolve a distrust in the kindness of the human race, and this can start the process of insanity overtaking the mind.

Is it impossible to stop?

No, according to crimelibrary there have been several cases where the Men/women actually turn themselves in to the police, some even expressing remorse over their actions.

How to eradicate them forever?

I don't think its possible to remove serial killers completely from society as there probably are quite a few that are still working out there, roaming free still. And to minimize the size of a newer generation of serial killers it's important for adults to remember to take proper care of their children.

Blog of the day, what ? It's me?!?

2007-02-12T12:30:00.000-08:00

Where did that come from? I've been getting like not very many visitors for the last few days, and my creativeness has been hiding from me, and yet. I receive an award, how weird is that ? Anyway, thanks to the one that nominated me to the award, and of course the owner of the blog that gave me the award.
Thanks mom and dad, for not encouraging me to write, thanks to all my english teachers giving me higher grades than I deserve because of my evolved vocabulary, thanks to all my readers, and thanks to Mr. Fab at Pointless drivel for being a spreader of drivel, oh and thanks to Msdemmie for her ongoing support, you really need to visit her blog, it was her that should have gotten this award..
Thanks everyone

Non existant creativeness..

2007-02-11T15:36:00.000-08:00

Wait, is that even a word ? lol.. Anyhow, does anyone have some sort of elixir or yoghurt or milkshake, or cake, or cookie, or SOMETHIGN!?!? That can refill my dose of creativity ? If you do.. Please, seirously, PLEASE post a comment with a link to it or something.. lol..

Sincerely,
Ragnar

The hunters, Poem.

2007-02-09T04:30:00.000-08:00

The sky was black on a winter night.
And clouds were hiding the stars so bright.
The forest as ever was full of trees.
And the leaves were all moved by the lightest breeze.

There were no shadows as there were no light.
But still you could hear the sounds of a fight.
The animals that lived in the forest so huge.
Were fighting to get themselves the right to refuge.

From the hunters out there calm in the night.
The animals wanted to hide, but never got it right.
The deadliest animals ever to be in sight.
Were sitting on the hill watching the animals fight.
The hunters so deadly they were, at night.
The hunters so deadly they were, at night.

The animals fought and though some did win.
They almost immediately got punished for their sin.
As the hunters decided that the time was right.
The hunters so deadly they were at night.

They loaded and readied their guns just right.
The clicks were never heard amidst the fight.
The animals did everything wrong that night.
The hunters so deadly they were at night.

Sunrise was still far away.
The fighting had lead the animals astray.
The hunters aimed and let their bullets fly.
And every single one of the animals did die.

The animals did everything wrong that night.
The hunters so deadly they are at night.

The 'retired' asssasin part 8.

2007-02-08T09:27:00.001-08:00

As Rendal was looking over his restless men, he could not help but wonder if any of them actually betrayed them, allthough their betrayal might be the only reason that they were alive and free now, it could present humongous problems later. Actually, if there was a betrayer, and if he somehow managed to contact the thieves, most likely none of them would survive this week. God how he hated the damn mondays!

Your plan worked master, you might have saved his and many of his men's lives.
Sarize thought intently, and made it wander, wander until it reached her master's mind.
Of course it worked! Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my abilities?
The thought was forced into her mind like a nail into a plank.
No.
Her simple answer brought a long silence upon her mind, after the series of intense interruptions it had suffered this last hour, finally being able to relax was soothing.
The boy must live, see to it that he does, and remember, you suffer the same fate as him.
With this he was gone, no longer did his presence torment her mind.
Not only shall he be alive, he shall serve our will.
Sarize thought.

Frantic Monday.

2007-01-29T14:09:00.000-08:00

As always on mondays getting up was equal to walking through a 10 feet thick wall of ice.
Espescially since i was up skiing since 8 a.m at a sunday, when I was awake till 3 A.M. at saturday night.
I had to go to class, early in the morning, and that was not a good feeling.
As i was so tired that i felt like sleeping, all through the day.

Back again?/Reviewing "The Red Dragon"/The retired assasin part 7

2007-01-28T08:42:00.000-08:00

I know i probably don't have any readers anymore and that this will be pointless to say.. But nevertheless..
I've just seen what I consider a good and creative movie, which somehow draws me to my digital home, My blog.
(It might shock some of you that the movie I was just watching was "the red dragon" the "follow-up" to Hannibal. Where the intellectual cannibal Hannibal Lecter, yet again, almost manages to kill the f.b.i agent that almost caught him, it really is a good movie you know.. I bet the book, if there is a book, is good too.
Hannibal is a good movie to by the way, and anthony hopkins a brilliant actor.
If you by now have jumped to the conclusion that I'm a sick human being, you may or may not be right, as I'm in the process of finding out now.)

I know i almost never write anything here anymore, the motivation for it is somewhat lacking because it seems that noone really cares if i write here or not, and in the end. Thats why I'm here, I want you to read and comment on my writings, not because I'm a control freak and want to "fuck" with your minds. Simply because a large percentage of bloggers are more than averagely gifted with brains, And this offers an unique opportunity to "reach out" to someone I feel more akin to than people I know "in the real world".
And besides, if I'm going to be a Writer, I might as well start somewhere, and for some reason, I believe a blog is a good place to start.
If I do have any readers left, I hope you have coped in the absence of new posts, I hope that this post will mean a change in the trend I've been having lately, to drop out on the things I really want to get done. (Practicing playing the base, writing posts on my blog, add a few pages to my book/short story, and work out)
I'll keep any readers informed of the "make over" I'm going to enforce on my way of living.
Keep your minds keen, allthough this won't be seen, you never know when its your turn to be terrorised by the mean.
*Laughing* wow.. Was that crap or what ?
No matter how good or bad that poem was, the importance is of this is certainly existent, as "loosing your head" in difficult situations, or not being able to come through difficult situations because of an untrained mind, could prove to be a person's downfall.
It seems my mind could need some training as I don't seem to realize how to get readers to my blog that will actually stay readers for a longer period of time than the counter on a "blog traffic exchange".
As it is this means to me, all my work on this blog is wasted, all my time spent writing, designing and surfing, all wasted, since I am unable to reach out to the readers in the way I'd like to.
If I only got like 2-3 "permanent" readers, I'd have no grudges whatsoever, to go back to blogging on a regular basis, the thing is, I'm writing this blog for myself, but for it to have the wanted effect(kind of self therapy really) I think I'd need some very deep and intellectual comments..
Just joking, but some comments would be nice though, and if you just read through it, I'll be more than satisfied with that.
Well, now that I've told you my excuse for not blogging on a regular basis anymore, I think I'll perhaps try and add a new part to "The retired assasin" series, which noone seems to like/read/look at the title.
Nevertheless, here it goes, and I really truthfully, hope you like it, wait a second her matey! The review comes first!(Mostly all "very very bad writing" comes from my very lacking Englich vocabulary, as my primary language is Norwegian not english, so if you have any suggestions for improvement when it comes to choice of words, please refer to this in a comment with what would be your choice of words, and a precise definition of this/these word(s).)

Review of "The Red Dragon":
The plot:
The retired agent that put Hannibal Lecter away for life, is contacted by one of his former partners, about a serial killer case he's assigned to. During a thrilling chain of events,(for instance where their plan to get the killer out in the open backfires, and gets an irritating journalist killed.) the retired agent, finds out that Hannibal tries to have his family murdered, via the serial killer, who apparently is a big fan of Hannibal Lecter and his work, this new serial killer believes he is transforming into a dragon, by killing (what he calls transforming) women, and just killing (not transforming) their families. The serial killer meets a blind woman who treats him kindly, and there were at least strong indications that she also had sex with him, through this, the serial killer does not want to become the red dragon anymore, and tries to stop the transformation by eating the original picture of the red dragon.(The red dragon is the name of a picture which he has tattooed over the entire backside of his body.) But, when the serial killer was away, someone the blind woman used to see as a "creep with a constant hard-on" somehow persuades her to let him take her home and stopping for dinner along the way. And the serial killer sees this as betrayal and shoots the man.
I will not tell you more of the plot, and definately not the end. If you have not seen it you should see it, and fast! As I mentioned earlier I think this is a very good movie.

Some of the reasons I think this movie is above average:

First of all there is a lot of good actors in the movie, and no, I do not (like some people) refer to famous actors, I simply refer to people who are good at acting. For example: one of my favourite actors is in it, Anthony Hopkins, he's one of my favourite actors partly based on his permformance in the movie called "Hannibal" the movie preceding this one in the "series". I do not think that many people would argue against a claim that he's a good actor, but if you disagree, you can post a comment.
Secondly, I like the story of the movie.
Thirdly, I think there are a lot of good lines in the movie, like when Hannibal says something similar to this: the weight of imagination is fear.
These three factors and more make this movie more than worth watching, sadly it reveals who the killer is quite early, but in despite of that there are many surprises in the movie. I reccomend viewing it in a relatively dark room, late in the evening or even the night.

Now, before you walk away from your computer to rent/buy "The Red Dragon", read the newest part of the retired assasin, and I also hope that you will take time to comment on the new part of the retired assasin before you go out to rent or buy the movie/ something else.

"The 'retired' assasin", Part 7(may add more later)
Sarize was standing there, breathing hard trying to drag the enemy general out of his saddle or freeing her blade from his wooden shield, both scenarios seemed impossible though, and those two scenarios being her only hope to survive this battle, it could not be helped.
Time seemingly slowed down to a point where the blink of an eye lasted seconds, and all sounds were blocked out, the only thing she could see was the general slowly rasing his sword-hand to deal the last and deadly blow, she could not let go of the sword and run since this would cause here to die at someone elses hands and she could neither pull her sword loose of his shield, or pull the muscular general out of his saddle, the only thing she could do was stand and watch the deadly sword arise, and then begin the curve that would end at her throat, in the middle of that deadly curve, Rendal appeared, whirling his special battlestaff as usual, but this time he was looking more purposeful than she had ever seen him before. He frowned quickly as if wondering how to save her, she allready new this was impossible as the General had already started swinging his sword towards her. Suddenly Rendals staff blurred past her, at a speed that seemed close to impossible, and missed the sword by a hand, but hitting the hand, had not been Rendals target it seemed, because the sword racing toward her throat suddenly stopped, and was dropped when the hand was janked back by the body which was falling out of the saddle, Sarize had already unknowingly dropped her two handed sword, so she caught the general's sword in mid air and walked over to the unconscious body of the general, and picked his horn of retreat of his leather belt. The sun showing that only minutes had passed surpised her as she walked the trampled grass over to Rendal and handed him the horn. As Rendal sounded the horn, a harsh schreeching sound spread throughout the battle, and everywhere, the armoured army of the "king of the thieves" was retreating. "Leave them be," Rendal shouted, "Let the cowardly thieves run, and tell their comrades in arms what awaits them if they plan on attacking us again!" As cheers of victory spread throughout the newmade muddy wasteland, Rendal and Sarize lifted the unconcious general onto his horse, and rendal tied him to it. "We need information." Rendal said to answer Sarize's questioning gaze, "I believe this was only a small part of the army the thieves can present in times of need." Always playing the warrior, Sarize thought to herself, and so young too, too young. She thought sadly, but yet she could not help but admire his ability to stay focused in times of need, espescially at his age.
The cheering soon stopped though, even though this had been a surprisingly easy victory, many had lost their friends, and seeing all the dead and badly hurt, had the effect of removing cheeriness from a human being. Most of the soldiers stood still and made a simple sign of respect to those who passed away, while the others where tending to the wounded and dead lying in the mud.
Rendal however was walking restlessly around and trying to comprehend why the king did not send more soldiers, as he would have heard from the generals on the loosing side that his host was huge.
Perhaps there was a traitor among them...

The end of this part, as of this hour. I cannot guarantee that I will not add more to it later or that I will, so I reccomend that you check in on this blog again if you liked what I have written so far.
Now please make a serious, and long comment.

That's all for now,

Sincerely,
Ragnar.

Merry Christmas

2006-12-28T17:30:00.000-08:00

Hello boys and gals, (I know this is a bit late, but..) I wish you a Merry Christmas, I wish you a Merry Christmas, I wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy new year. At least I wasn't late for that last one eh? Cyber drinks for everybody! Thou shall not suffer. (All I want for Christmas is more comments on my litterature works :P).
Regards,
Ragnar

"The Retired Assasin" Part 6.

2006-12-06T07:36:00.000-08:00

Its been a while since the last one, simply because I needed some time to picture how the battle would be.

The sunlight started creeping over the nearing hills as Rendal planted his feet outside the tent, he clenched his fists and shouted "To arms my brethren!", after the echoes had retreated total silence replaced them, even the horses were silent, then the first warning came in, the howl of a shadowlurker sounded twice. Even if noone had heard the weak wardrums, nobody would ever have missed the penetrating howl, unless they were deaf. Somehow the camp started moving again, the howls had triggered a part of their minds were the only things that existed were warlust and obedience, total obedience. Everyone was getting ready for battle, saddling horses, preparing their armor, sharpening their weapons, eating and drinking, feeding horses and so on. The camp was now a stew of noice and shuffling, but due to effiency and discipline the camp was cleared up in less than twenty minutes, meaning they had less than five to prepare themselves properly for the battle to come, even less if Rendal and the officers' estimates were wrong. The soldiers had now assembled around the rounded hill Rendal had placed himself on, obviously expecting him to make some sort of speech, so he figured it was just best to get it over with. "This is what we started the journey for!", he said holding his battlestaff high, "To send them back to their supposed creator!", he paused and took firm hold of his battlestaff with both hands, "Lets show the thieves that there exists none!" he said as he smashed his battlestaff into the ground, as the wood met the mud the collision made an incredibly loud "bang". "KILL!" he shouted as loud as he could, his voice dark and rasping. The men, his men, raised their swords and shouted back as one. "KILL!", the word echoed again and again, and the massive shout spread to the edges of the small hills west of the camp where the enemy forces were moving forward. Sarize rode up to meet Rendal leading his horse beside her, when she finally reached him at the top of the hill she leaned in close and said "You've already lost this battle, even from afar I could see that the enemy host was huge, they outnumber us at least eight to one. How can you possibly hope to come out victorious." Rendal blinked slowly, mounted his horse and said "I don't.", Sarize opened her mouth to protest but Rendal raised his hand and said "I mean I know how we can get out of this alive, and victorious." To this Sarize answered "So, are you gonna tell me what your plan is ?", Rendal looked calm and sincere as he said "No.", he started riding slowly down the hill, holding Sarize's horse's reigns tightly in his left hand and his horse's reigns in his right. "Battle calls!" He shouted as he let go of the reigns of the horse beside his own and started riding slowly out of the small collection of trees where a camp had once been. When they emerged into the blazing sunlight, they rode so that they all looked like completely inexperienced riders, and 200 paces away the enemy general thought, "Ah, how fitting, if it rides like a dog, it most likely is a dog!" His men rode with newfound overconfidence, and had allready passed on the battle as won before they even had met with the other ranks. The only one that rode clearly unaffected by the sight of the enemy was "The watchman" of the troop, an elite within all tools and tricks of war, strategy, spionage, and survival. If the troops ended up at a loss the watchman's only task would be to survive, and inform. The watchman was dressed in a black silken cloak, had black hair, black ringmail and two shining shortswords clearly made of Dorian steel. When the hosts were 50 paces from each other, as the clash between hooves and grass rang loudly throughout the plain, Rendal's host donned bows and notched arrows, ready to loose at command. Naturally when the other host's general saw the notched bows he ordered a quickening of the pace, then fell a bit back among the ranks. Even as the first ranks increased their pace to a gallop, their minds affected by adrenaline, they never realized that they were only there to shield the more experienced soldiers from the arrows. Rendal shouted "Loose!" and the sound of bowstrings straightening spread throughout the would-be battlefield, surprisingly the arrows were aimed at the horses, and for each horse that met its bane another 10 horses and soldiers were affected by its fall, and after the second wave of arrows the host had almost been stopped entirely. Somehow most of the soldiers managed to start up again, and even though hundreds of them were dead, there were still thousands left. "Spread!" Rendal shouted, and each and every of his men distanced from each other, to allow riders to ride between. The enemy host was only 10 paces apart from the riders, and as the first wave galloped in between the first rank of rendal's host closed together and trapped the first ranks among enemies, as their dying screams could be heard the watchman realized that they were dealing with a tricky general, where as the General thought he was dealing with an unexperienced kid. Rendal smashed one end of his staff to the ground, and eight razor sharp blades appeared, four blades placed in a circle near each end of the rounded staff, and rode out into what was now a frenzied war zone.
Whereever he wirled his staff men died in front of him, and his men fought even more fiercily in his presence. As metal smashed against metal, where men's dying howls could be heard even fierce shouts of anger rang in the ears of the soldiers, and after Rendal himself had joined the battle it seemed as if the men from the north was winning. The general spotted rendal and thought himself the only one worthy to beat him so he started to cut his path forward, the general was riding with his sword in one hand and his shield in the other, fighting men at both sides, as Sarize appeared in front of him, a two handed sword in her hands. The general gave the man to his right a new hole in his stomach and bashed the man two his left's nose in so hard that the splinters of bone penetrated his brain. He slashed at Sarize's head but his steel met hers, and witthin the blink of an eye, the end of her sword was flying towards his legs, but when it should have met flesh, it met wood instead, and with a "chunk" her sword was firmly attached to his shield..

The end of this part..

Regards,
Ragnar.

Completed open blog section of my site :D

2006-12-01T14:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, I already know that I'm a very talented man, yes, thank you, no, do not praise me to much for my incredible work..
What is all this fuss about ? Well I managed to custom write a blog script for my use and apply in less than one day.
Not only that, but I also had to mess with the design, and deal with minor(and huge) bugs as I kept going, but nontheless.
Now I am done, finito, finished, my work is completed, now all I need is for someone to post something in my open blog, it will be seen rotating on blogsoldiers, blogexplosion and hopefully blogmad also.
Index:
http://www.retardus.com/openblog/
Where you can post:
http://www.retardus.com/openblog/index.php?work=postp
Thank you for your time.. Will be back soon with some more extremely creative content :)

Warm regards,
Ragnar

A blogger's nightmare

2006-11-29T04:35:00.001-08:00

Another day, yes, a new day, new opportunities, the world lays at your feet. But in fact it does not, the further you go into the presence of day, the more you feel that the world is definately not at your feet. In fact you start feeling that the world is as far away from laying at your feet as is possible for the world. So after having a meal for breakfast, that tasted lousy, you logged onto your computer.. Amazed you realize that your computer at least is working fine, the internet and all, so you try to log on to your blog to tell the world how your day is working out.. You trie once.. "Blog doesn't exist in our database." you try twice, "Blog doesn't exist in our database." and the third time you try, you allready know what is going to happen."Blog doesn't exist in our database.", you visit your own blog, and again it says. "Blog doesn't exist in our database.". You naturally assume that this is happening to everyone else using the same blog service as you, so you visit one of your friend's blogs. But your friend's blog does work, you start looking through the posts where you've been commenting, but there are no comments from you on any posts, so visit another blog, and another, and another, there is but one common streak. Your comments are erased from them all, all signs of you ever existing in the blogging world gone, no one would remember you for your blogging capabilities once you were gone. You started to realize that this might be the build-up to your murder, so you turn around, and to your shock you see a Man in an FBI uniform pointing a gun at your face. "Your blog was too controversial" He says slowly, "Sorry" and then he squeezes the trigger.

Death, Really the end ?

2006-11-20T15:24:00.000-08:00

It caught you didn't it, the title I mean, Death, this might help you understand why there is so much of just that in the media, would any of you've read on if it said "how to dust your chair properly"?
Death, oh how it attracts humans' attention, we're like vultures lurking above looking for more of the dead.
Its an amazing thing, death, how it affects the human mind in so many different ways.
When you see a dead body you might be feeling in awe, utterly terrified and almost insanely intrigued at the same time.
I believe that one of the reasons many people actually feel intrigued by dead bodys is that it is so uncomprehendable to us humans that something might make us dissapear without anything left.
I'm not a christian or a buddhist or a muslim, and I've got no grudge towards them(or people who follow any other religious direction), their way of living, or their beliefs, I consider myself a mix of an atheist and an agnostic, since none of the religions contains something that I can connect to in unquestionable even doubtful belief.
But nevertheless, I can't help but wonder if death really is the end, is it really an utterly devastating phenomenom that erases every single part of your person in a matter of seconds ?
Is it so, that when you die, there is no more, you are no more?
One thing about death that makes it so scary is the uncertainty, "Do I continue living, or is this the end ?", which leaves the option to become a memorable person, so that one can live on through other humans.
Not literally "live on" but having once's actions redone by another person following your footsteps, or an opinion of yours being spread, these are just examples of what can happen after you have left your imprint on society.
Do you believe in afterlife ?
For myself, I don't know yet, and I don't know if I ever will be able to decide, before I leave this world to check the facts for myself.

I'll try to write some more on "The retired assasin" Series and my book now.
Warmest regards to all readers,
Ragnar

A thread of hope prologue, what do you think?

2006-11-17T17:38:00.000-08:00

Warning: Long post, (and for those who worry about such things, I'm told that this is pretty "heavy" fantasy writing.)
At last I decided to just put up the whole prologue of my upcoming book (A thread of hope.. Oh you guessed that already ? Well.. whatever!) and (of course) I want to know what you think of it... Its a pretty long read I guess.. Anyway, good luck! :-)

Prologue of «A thread of hope» Part 1.«The crystal tower»
A mild south east wind blew slowly throughout the charred town, and spread the macabre smell of death and ashes through the windows of the few houses left intact.
It was placed around the top of a scorched round hill, was about 2000 feet east, west, north and south, it was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and the top was surrounded by 20 feet tall reinforced granite walls.
The streets were literally soaked with blood, crushed coal lay spread on top, and to make matters worse, random body parts lay everywhere.
This left the road looking like a river of bloody and chunky meat soup, spiced with pepper.
The houses that were standing were literally falling apart, and all walls were charred black.

However there where two locations that stood out from the devastated town.
One, a humongous castle surrounded by granite walls, which stood on the top of the hill, in the center of the town.
The other a great stone tower, almost 20 feet in diameter at the foot and more than 100 feet tall.
This Tower was located 20 paces from the castle's outer wall, was made out of almost shiny, white stone, had a small paved plaza around it, a round platform which it was placed upon, one great iron door, and no holes, in the smooth stone walls, except at the top, where the tower suddenly changed into a giant sphere made out of massive crystal, with two balconies.
In one of the many rooms of the castle, the throne room to be exact, the young Mayor was talking
to one of his generals.
"Now, the part that I don't understand general, is how the heck did you manage to loose the entire
city guard against dark dwarfs one tenth of your numbers, and survive yourself?"
The mayor said suspiciously to the only other man in the room.
"I'm not the only survivor Sir, The Apprentice named Bayn survived too, and a few of the ones
nearest the oil barrels, in fact Bayn was the one who figured out how we could kill the Shadow Dwarfs."
The Mayor stared angrily at the general, he definately did not like being corrected.
"And just how did he do that?" He said angrily.
"M'ka Al irbit erk un andrum" The general said.
"Which means?" The mayor asked.
"Shadows only fear the light" The general said dramatically as he pointed at the shadow of his body.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The mayor asked angrily as he studied the general..
"Flame, they can't stand flame" The general answered calmly.
"What about steel?" The mayor asked, a troubled look on his face.
"Steel might cut them open, but the tissue grows together in a matter of seconds, which makes it useless in the long run."
"You still haven't answered the first and second of my questions general..."
"Bayn told us to dip our swords into the oil barrels, and when we had done that, he sparked them aflame.
This provided us with the perfect weapon against their flesh..
It slashed straight trough.
And when Bayn started lighting up circles of flame around their small groups, it turned from a bloodbath on our side, to a bloodbath on theirs, we could just shoot them down with fiery arrows.."
The general abruptly stopped talking and laughed..
"No sir, I forgot, there were NO oil barrels.. Unfortunately for you, they did not bring any..
Instead he and the rest of the human resistance are locked up and surrounded in the Tower of the Eagle."
"Then who are.."
The young mayor stopped as the air shimmered around what he had thought was one of his best generals, and the young general disappeared for a second, then reappeared as a hairy gray-skinned female shadow dwarf.
"I think you've guessed already SIR MAYOR.."
She said in a deep rasping voice.
"I'm your worst nightmare"
She whispered into his ear a blink of an eye before she wrenched his head off.
"Now Bayn, you're up next.."
She said quietly to herself.
She knew that the stupid unexperienced warlock was to be relieved of the burden of life promptly.

..................................

At the same time, in the middle of the hollow sphere at the top of the Tower of the Eagle, the apprentice named Bayn was talking to the Real general, named Kertain.
"Let me get this straight, apprentice, you knew that the bloody dwarfs were coming?"
Kertain asked Bayn angrily.
"Not dwarfs, sir, something much darker, fiercer, ten times more bloodthirsty.
Something lacking consideration of anyone else than themselves, Something more evil than even the worst of wolves.
No general..
These are Shadow Dwarfs.."
The young apprentice which was about 6,5 feet tall, had brownish blond hair cut short,
and had what was now called an "eye disability", but before had been known as "warlock's eyes".
His eyes were green when he was unaffected by emotions, blue when his mind was distant,
red when he was thinking hard, purple when he was angry, yellow when he was afraid, and orange when he was sad.
The colors where the same for everyone with the so-called disability but,
while some might have orange when they were sad, others could have purple or red.
So, only people who knew the person with the disability well could use it to the person's disadvantage.
However, this phenomenon only occurred in human warlocks, which made it inevitable,
even though they were the strongest wielders of nature, that they almost perished,
when the races clashed together in The war of endless agony.

"I've not heard of these so called "shadow dwarfs" apprentice.."
The general said, looking at Bayn as if he was a stain on his otherwise spotless armor.
"The shadow dwarfs appeared when the war between the dwarfs and humans were
tipping dangerously in the favor of the humans.
When two misguided dwarf warlocks mixed their own blood with the blood of
shadow-wolves, enchanted it with powdered root of a giant oak, and offered
it to the kings guard."
Bayn said, all the while wanting nothing more than yelling "Ignorant idiot" to the face of the general who was just that..
His eyes turning dangerously purple, he continued
"All though it was meant as one last desperate effort to turn the war into the dwarfs' favor,
it turned into exactly the opposite.
The kings guards' skin turned from, the normal suntanned color, into a dark gray.
And where their normal and facial hair had been, brown, red or blond before.
It was as black as a raven's feather."
Bayn paused, took a very deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to remember exactly
what Griandares had said about the Shadow dwarfs before he spoke again.
"To make matters worse, oh so much worse, their eyes turned to a glowing red,
and they turned against the race they had once been a part of,
killed their own king, and cut a path through both armies, without loosing a single one of their number, the only thing the remaining normal dwarfs could do, was resign, and flee to their former homes.
The element from which they were made, the earth, so they fled into the mountains.
The remaining humans, fled back to what is now called the plains of the world,
To a country twice the size of these time's so called empire.
And hoped to never encounter the shadow dwarfs again.."
He paused again, took a deep breath, and sent a glare spiced with despise, against the general, who now had the courage to tap his foot, obviously unaffected and bored by his tale so far.
"Of course, as many other times in history, hope was betrayed when the shadow dwarfs reappeared and raided a large town in the outskirts of the Nation, that was called, "The city of fire", simply because one of their many specialties was to light their swords on fire when they were fighting a foe stronger in numbers than themselves.

However, the darkness of the shadow-dwarfs skin together with the darkest of nights,
provided shelter from the watchful eyes of the town's sentries, and when they sneaked
up to the town gates, killed the guards and ravaged the town..
The defenders thought nothing would work on them, until they in one last effort lit their swords on fire, and ran together into the center of the town, where they to their amazement managed to hold the shadow dwarves off, and after one last bloody skirmish, the dwarves turned their tails and fled."
Bayn paused yet another time, and since he was starting to get enthusiastic now that
the tapping had stopped, his eyes were turning blue as he thought of how to continue his
terribly true story.
"Unfortunately, the word that fire bit through their flesh could not be spread quickly enough,
and a number of towns were completely devastated before the empire could assemble an army,
and locate the shadow dwarfs' headquarters.However, when they to their own amazement found that they had settled inside their nation's border, they gathered the entire force of all towns and cities in the country, and marched against the shadow dwarfs' puny host."
He paused dramatically, and drew his breath silently to prolong the pause, and strengthen the feeling that the worst was yet to come.

"This, should prove to be a fatal mistake..
When they reached the location where the headquarters' was supposed to be,
they saw nothing, absolutely no sign that there had EVER been a camp of some sort there..
There was only one conclusion available..
Their scouts and spies, had double crossed them..."
Bayn took yet another pause, and studied the general's face with satisfaction,
as he realized that the general's otherwise stony look was wavering..
"The worst has yet to come..." He thought as he smiled broadly.
"This was not a regular betrayal like in the stories however, where the enemies jumped out in ambush and the good men still won.
No, this was endlessly much worse, when they retraced their path, everything looked normal,
all towns and small cities left intact, despite the fact that they had been almost unprotected for a matter of weeks.
The brighter part of the army already thought that this was too unsavage a way for the shadow dwarfs to act, so they prepared themselves for the worst, and headed for the capital."
Bayn paused yet again, and was satisfied to see the general obviously lost in thought, hopefully inspired by the tale he was telling.
He drew his breath and continued.
"But there was nothing in the entire world that existed then, or now, that could have prepared them from the sight that met their eyes when they finally reached it.
The city had been ruined inside out, the walls were overturned, the castle lay in ruins, all
houses of wood either in ruins, or still burning, the Palace plundered and devastated, the old men, old women and young boys brutally murdered, and the women and young girls raped and
tortured.
And the worst, a shadow dwarf host, a lot less puny than expected went laughing about the city
and were ravaging what was left to be ravaged, killing the one's who were left to be killed,
and raping the one's who were left to be raped."
Bayn paused, and was pleased to find that the otherwise so stone-faced general, was actually staring intently into the wall.
"A staring face, is the face of a fool, general. I'm glad you finally show your true person."
Bayn thought, before he continued telling the tale, that made stone-faced men mope.

"Although the human host, would have crushed the one the Shadow Dwarfs had, in a matter of hours, it was not meant to be.
The shock had brought up a deeply buried matter of importance, that was to be the kings death.
The shock of seeing their, lovers, wives, and families either raped or slaughtered, brought up the matter of why one person should be able to control the entire force of the country.”
Bayn paused, sat down on the crystal bench before he continued.
“So the host split up in two, those for the king, and those against him.
If it had been split in half, most likely no one would dare to actually start the attack,
but the ones against the king, outnumbered the others three to one, so they charged, immediately after they had assembled their forces.
It was a bloodbath, and since the humans were in the middle of a fierce battle, no one took notice of the escaping shadow dwarfs.
In the end, more and more humans that were for the king, changed sides by the second, so the rest of them surrendered, and handed over the king, that was decapitated by the oppositions leader, almost at once.”
Bayn paused, and made a mental note to remember how painful sitting on the bench actually was.
“The shadow dwarfs were forgotten and an committee was made and they decided, that the country should be controlled by the mayors of the cities, that should be elected by the people living in the cities.
There should also be a supreme council of senators, chosen from among the mayors, by the mayors.
When this was finally decided, the shadow dwarfs had re-armed and prepared themselves to perform yet another devastating attack against the human race, when the new city guard of "The City of Fire"
caught them in ambush, and thought they killed every last one of their terrifying race."
Bayn finished, and as the general made as if to speak, he raised his hand.

He had one last thing to say before, allowing foolish questions from the general.
"Unfortunately from what we've seen so far today, the so called "master mercenary dwarfs"
that have popped up everywhere these last few years are indeed shadow dwarfs, and,
the law the committee of Democracy made, to prevent invasions of the country from being absolutely devastating, may prove to help invasions do just that.
I fear that if the dwarves have not done so already, they'll invade the rest of our weak 'empire'."
The general had no idea of the situation they were in, no idea at all.
Bayn recited the poem out of Gil'Yar's “Book of prophecy.” his as deep as he was able to make it.
“When the shadow reaches the tower of crystal,
The apprentice must go to the woods of thistle.

And seek help from the hidden races.
Allthough they are hidden in two different places.
The shadow may be a threat, but its just one of many.
Of humans in the end, there might not be any.
The seeker of doom is always around.
Doom for the humans, for him there's the crown
One thread there is, one last strand of hope.
For the world to avoid withering and going up in smoke.
The three true races, must ally as one.
Or else whats left of hope will truly be gone.
The apprentice and a son of the mountains will meet.
The duty of helping lies at their feet.
So do not give up, no matter what, you must cope.
Remember, there's still one last thread of hope.
”
(The poem was of course written in a much more encrypted form of speech, and on top of that it was written in Dwarfish, so this was the easiest way for him to recite it.).
The End Prologue Part 1 of ???

© Copyright 2006 Ragnar, The owner of this Blog.

Remember to tell me what you think.. :-)

Whoah, a new post..

2006-11-13T16:46:00.000-08:00

I don't know whats happened to me but I find that I have a lot less energy to do the things that I do in a day, and because my life is as hectic as it is somehow I manage to prioritize in a way that puts blogging far down the list. I say again, that this is not because I don't like my blog, or to post, but simply because I have other priorities..
I already feel a bit more cheery.. (Seriously)

Important psychological question:

Well I've just been doing a bit of thinking on this subject lately, and I can't help but wonder if men and women experience love for each other differently..
I do not intend to turn all "soapy" on you, and I hope you can see the philosophical value in discussing such a subject, so that you will allow me to go on without pressing the "x" formed button to the top right..
The downside is, that it is very difficult to prove that Men and Women experience love differently, or the opposite, because of the difficulty of actually expressing what you feel in words.
Lets say, what if Women felt love 100 times stronger than men, or the other way around, how would it affect the way humans would've lived ?
This of course is a dilemma when it comes down to writing as I have no idea what women feel when they fall in love/love someone... (Yes, I'm a guy, you've probably started to doubt that this is so by now, but I am, I really am.)
So should I just type down what I would feel in the given situation, or take a wild guess, and loose all female readers within a few seconds ?
(Perhaps I'll just cut out women from the story altogether, and make up a new species that humans use for breeding ?)
So here it comes, (and I hate dedicating an ENTIRE POST to asking a question without getting any responses, so please respond!)
Do you think women and men experience love differently ?
(To all human beings out there: Does one become less a man from typing such posts and posting them onto your blog ? :P)
Well well, that's it until next time..

Warmest regards,
Ragnar.

Poetic Tuesday Poem.

2006-10-31T08:11:00.000-08:00

The strongest's right.
The moon rose up to illuminate the trees, Little did the small birds know.
That they were about to be killed, by just one killing blow.
When the moon was on the peak of its course on the cloudless sky.
The birds were all dead, but had got no time to dread, or not even to wonder why.

But why would someone want to kill, some birds that had done nothing wrong.
The wrongdoer must be weird? Or maybe even feared? Perhaps seen in a human throng?
The wrongdoer was not weird and never feared, but in his eyes his actions were his right.
The strongest's right was what he callled it, he would have the king to be the best to fight.

The inventer of this, discussed little thing, called the strongest's right.
He was not even large, not close to strong and far from what is called bright.
But one thing he did, though stupid it was, he invented "the strongest's right".
So watch your mouth then, and lock all your doors, and seal your windows tight.
Noone will be safe, from chastise or chafe, as long as the followers won't "see the light".
And remember, lock your doors right, seal your windows tight, or they'll come for you, in the middle of the night.
©Copyright 2006, Ragnar the owner of this blog.

Trivia:
What was the moral of the poem?
(The ones who get it right will get buttons in my right sidebar so remember to leave an url to your blog together with your answer.. :D) (Need to my right sidebar with something so feel free to answer correctly.)

"The 'Retired' Assasin" Part 5.

2006-10-30T10:35:00.001-08:00

I realize that the spaces of time between my posts has been increasing lately and I'm going to put this straight..
I like blogging, I won't stop if i can help it, at least not for a while, but somehow the free time needed for blogging has eluded me.
Either I've been to tired or to busy or to sick to get myself to sit down in front of my computer and concentrate on writing a post.
I've noticed another upside to keeping my blog alive, even when I don't bother putting any effort into an english assignment I never get grades worse than B+ so needless to say I am quite satisfied by that.
And now (*insert "To the moment you've all been waiting for" in a 'TV voice' here*) "The 'Retired' Assasin Part 5" Will unfold below.

The so called "Beast" vas sitting at a small wooden table in a large tent, the fire in the middle of it was burning low, and because of the retreating darkness it was easy to tell that it was nearing dawn.
The walls of the tent were made of thick special treated leather and bands of color spiraled upwards to the top of the tent, where smoke flew slowly into the air through a medium sized whole.
"The Beast" smashed his gloved fist into the wooden table so hard that the ground trembled, "We have to press on, or our men will loose faith, you heard them didn't you? They are practically begging for more blood, more land, more coin to spend, more of everything!"
He said loudly, to the woman sitting on the far side of the table.
He sat in a chair, weakly built at first sight, but when you looked closer you could see muscles bulging under the clothes that covered the slim body.
He was young, had short ruffled brown hair, blue eyes and a slim face and thin nose.
His jaw was clenched so tight that his teeth aced, and the two spots where his muscles where bulging formed an irregullarity in his otherwise almost perfectly formed face.
The woman sitting in the only other chair in the tent, at the far side of the table, was also quite young, a bit older than the man she was now staring intently at, and was slimly built.
She had long ravenblack hair, perfectly green eyes, a bulky nose, looking as if it had been broken a couple of times, numerous scars covering her face, and a set of slightly irregular and pointed teeth.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then frowned and said.
"It's okay for them to press on, they see you as an unstoppable beast invurnerable to harm, even though the losses have been minimal men have still died, but they don't seem to notice."
She paused as if considering what to say next, slowly opened her mouth and said "Its a mob being led behind the light, and I'm sorry but its your fault, I mean, they've seen nothing but victories since we've come into the lands of the thieves, and we both know, most men get overly bold after such events."
The face of the woman took on a smug look, just as she looked down into the table to hide a smile.
She had won this discussion she knew, oh he might argue a bit more but with that one devastating argument she had crushed his in one verbal blow. "This is getting harder and harder.. " She thought, "Maybe next time I won't be able to talk him out of the stupidity."
"But... Eh." The young man said, with a frustrated look covering his face, No not again. He thought, he was on the verge of yelling "Words, come to me!" but as ever, he did not.
"Oh come on Rendal.." The woman said calmly, her voice cool, with the hint of something else, somethign soft hidden within, her face the perfect picture of serenity, "Obviously you can see the sense in what I'm saying here, and of course, you didn't make me your second in command for nothing did you? The council said we should stop here and defend what we've allready conquered. And not only that, until now the king of these thieves has until now considered us nothing but a minor band of raiders, if we press on, we are destined to meet an army we cannot defeat, and what will your men do then, surrender? We both know the answer to that...."
"A death in battle is an honorable death." The young man called Rendal said stubbornly.
"What good does honor do you, when you're dead?" The woman asked.
Rendal had no answer so he kept his mouth shut eyes down in embarrasment.
The woman thought he looked childlike when he was embarassed but got no time to consider it more because just then, faint horns could be heard in the distance, even the louder of the drums could be heard faintly.
As they both knew, these were the sounds of war.
"It appears you were wrong Sarize, the king has allready noticed us for what we are.." Rendal said, his face had already set in stony look, as if he had no human emotion.
“Always have a back-up plan, always..” Rendal thought as he strode out of the tent.

Poetic Tuesday Poem.

2006-10-10T09:36:00.000-07:00

The sun went down
And sat a golden crown
Upon the mountains in the west.

The jagged spires,
Looked like fires,
Upon the mountains in the west.

The creatures saw,
And gaped in awe,
Upon the mountains in the west.

The free man saw,
And noticed a flaw,
Upon the mountains in the west.

As snow did melt,
The sun was felt,
Upon the mountains in the west.

The water found a way,
To avoid the mountain stay,
Upon the mountains in the west.

As the water rushed down,
To escape the golden crown,
The mountains they fell,
Almost creating hell,
Oh yes they fell,
They crashed down I can tell.

The mountains in the west.

Poetic Tuesday.

2006-10-10T09:01:00.000-07:00

Poetic Tuesday:

"Rules": Be poetic, your poem does not have to rhyme or have any rythm as long as you judge it to be a poem.
(link to banner image below the text.)

Poetic tuesday is meant as an effort to help people discover just how creative they can be, and just how talented they are at writing poetry.

Of course we have our own banner to go with it ^^
Link to banner.

Now Be poetic and creative..
Sincerely,
Ragnar.

"The 'Retired' Assasin" Part 4.

2006-10-09T10:06:00.000-07:00

This is Part four of the story I have chosen to temporarily call "The 'Retired' Assasin", ultimately that will be the name of the first chapter, but until I find another title for the story, it will remain named "The 'Retired' assasin".
"The 'retired' assasin" Part 1 link.
"The 'retired' assasin" Part 2 link.
"The 'retired' assasin" Part 3 link.

At this time the so called "Beast" was ravaging large parts of Rolega, one of the "Civilized States", it was rumoured that this was one of the huge barbarians that were living north of the border, and given the fact that Rolega was indeed the Civilized state placed north of all the others, that he drank blood and dressed in skin from the creatures he slay, be it man or bear or wolf.
The facts in this matter was of course incredibly different from what the rumours would have told as true, and as the "Beast " progressed further and further south, the word got out that he was little more than a boy, and a fair one at that.
When people learned that "The beast" was youn, fair and seemingly unstoppable in battle, somehow the word spread that he was a lost prince, fighting his way to his rightful throne.
Matters only turned worse when the king forbid even speaking of "This little youngster who calls himself 'the beast' ".
The word spread to every little city or town in all of Rolega, and discussions about him were to be found in every tavern or inn.
Little did the king know at the time, that only his enemies called him "the beast" due to his wild ferocity in battle, that he wore only a chainmail chestguard and a bearskin cloak with the head left intact and that the loosing side of a battle always needed some kind of excuse for their loss, espescially when the odds had been on their side.
Allthough "the beast" was ferocious in battle, he was also rightful so that he always helped the wounded, treated the prisoners well, and avoided killing, capturing or harming unarmed women and harmless children if possible.

©Copyright 2006 Ragnar, The owner of This blog.

Latest news.

2006-10-08T14:15:00.000-07:00

For those who have turned reading my blog into a daily or semi-daily/weekly habit, it may seem that I have deliberately eluded posting anything to my blog due to not being interested in it at all.
This however is not the case, I have been away from "cyber space" because I was visiting some relatives that does not have a computer with internet connection, so I have simply been unable to post something or fix anything on my blog.
But even before I left, a lot of time passed betweend the posting of each post , due to my striving to make my blog better.
Sadly I have to say that this was a bucketful of wasted effort as I used my time to think of a new slogan or background or minor details about my blog's design instead of filling up my blog with content.
As it is I'm planning to post at least another part of "the 'retired' assasin" series and fix the contents of the the first three parts of it.

Sincerely,
The president of the UPD
(United Posts of Dust on a dusty road)

The retired assasin Part 3

2006-09-28T01:54:00.000-07:00

I've been very tired lately.
So I've not had the energy to sit down, and write something over a long period of time.
I've been having friends over a lot too, so...

"The 'retired' assasin" Part 1 link.

"The 'retired' assasin" Part 2 link.

The Retired assasin was now watching the large man closely.
He thought "Thats not how you really look fella.." , he just knew that the man he saw was an illusion, there could be no other reason for the guys with the "orders" to pay him a visit.
He decided that it had to be someone he knew or once had known, and as he did the illusion was no longer what his eyes saw.
His eyes was now studying the confusing process of the illusion's self destruction, at first, it switched back and forth between what the object/person really looked like faster and faster, and when it started to switch back and forth so fast that you could only see a blur, then the blur turned back into the illusion and it gradually retreated, revealing what was meant to be hidden by the illusion, quite slowly.
As expected the former assasin now had his eyes on a more slim and taller person.
"Why are you here Frindel?" The assasin asked loudly while he was trying to figure out just that.
"I..." The man named Frindel said.
"You were not supposed to pay me a visit unless you were in some kind of emergency?" The assasin asked angrily.
"We need you back in the old town.. The whole shit is about to be controlled by Shadow Slayers..
If we don't do anything soon, the place will be lost. Do you want mad priests controlling your birth place?"
Frindel answered in a voice tinged by irritation.
"The old town was never really important to you now was it?" The assasin asked.
"It always was, its just that I wasn't as passionate about building things as you were Telizer. And besides, most of my few remaining friends are stuck there." Frindel said.
The former assasin named Telizer walked closer to the ruins of his door.
"And what makes you think that I want to help?" Telizer asked as he stopped nearly 1 foot from the ruins of the door..
"You want to help because the old town is still important to you, if not that, I got a bag of gold from the rest of the resistance." Frindel said as he rattled the bag hanging from his belt.
Telizer looked seemingly uninterested at the bag of gold, and said.
"What would you have me do for the bag o' gold?"
"Simply lead the mob of people that are against the mad priests in skirmishes and the like." Frindel said.
Telizer looked incredolously at Frindel, and burst out.
"You want an untrained old man without any experience to lead your forces to battle?"
"Its not what you are that matters, it is what the enemy and your mob thinks you are, to lay it out pretty simple, they won't be looking at this old shell." Frindel said with a wicked smile.
Telizer gaped at Frindel as he realized what his one time friend was planning...
He realized that he never should have trusted the man with his whereabouts, or anyone else for that matter, soon everybody he'd once known would bloody well be standing at his doorstep demanding favors.
Telizer turned around looked Frindel straight into his green eyes and said,
"I can't say I like your idea but it might work, and since the ol' place s' at stake, I'll play along for a little while."
He cast one last look towards the pitifully skinny man lying inside his damaged hut, and walked outside.
"If we need to get there quickly, I know just the trick"
Telizer said smiling, his eyes shining like diamonds in the sun, as he stood on the grassy ground outside his doorstep.

© Copyright Ragnar, The owner of this blog, 2006

"The 'retired' assasin" Part 2.

2006-09-21T02:02:00.000-07:00

I mentioned in my last post that my creativity was back, and this is one of the many results as a cause of that.
"The 'retired' assasin" Part 1 link
"The 'retired' assasin" Part 2.

The assasin looked at the large, well-built man standing in front of the splinters left of his door.
He quickly twirled his knives and hid them in his sleeves with amazing speed.
"King, me?" He said incredolously and laughed.
"I can barely afford to live in this simple hut, or do they by any chance call this a palace where you're from?"
He continued slowly in a farmer's accent.
The large man burst out in laughter.
"Not that kind of king, for quite a long period a time, a little while ago, you were known as 'The king of Shadows' but the fact that we found you hidden here, tells me that you were not worthy of such a glorious title." The large man said, eyening the sleeves of the retired assasin briefly.
"Another assasin" the retired assasin thought, "Here out of jealousy perhaps"..
"I still don't understand what you are talking of, if you are in requirement of an assasin's services I suggest you get out of here now, and quickly, because there ain't no man living in these woods that are gonna give you that." He said, in a different accent this time, something more of a minor merchant from a city.
The tall sinewy thin man that had stood completely still for such a long time, strode quickly into the room and said.
"We do not need or require anything from you.. We are here for other matters, we have brought you orders."
The former assasin, eyed the thin man wearily, he realized quickly that he was the leader of the two, because he was the one with the most expencive clothes and weapons.
"What orders and from whom?"
The retired assasin whispered fiercely to the man with the orders.
"The orders are from the king, of what matter they are, I do not know, nor do I mind being kept ignorant..
I'm only supposed to give you these bloody orders, escort you to Frinleod's castle and forget it ever happened."
He said as he handed over the roll of parchment to the former assasin.
"I do not need orders good sir, nor will obey them when I get them.. I am a free man, not one of the king's slaves."
The former assasin said loudly.
"Well, I'm afraid you have to, if you do not follow us willingly, we are ordered to bring you forth by force, or kill you in the process ?"
The thin man said threateningly.
The assasin decided to read his orders before doing anything rash.

Hello Trizor, Its been a long time, and I need one last favor of you, I know you never really wanted to be an assasin and all that, and I also know that of the 150 you are supposed to have killed, only 10 were relieved of the burden of life by your hands.
You always wanted to lead an army, you were never a coward, so what I'm prepared to offer you my old friend, is a place as one of my generals and a new identity.

Zertain,
Lord of the seas, and King of the east.

The retired assasin that had been prepared to kill the visitors, was now unsure what to do.
"A real king wouldn't write something as simple as that in a formal letter" he thought.
"Zertain is KING now? When did the old man die?"
The former assasin asked, trying his best to sound shocked and convinced.
"Not even a month ago, I'm not surprised that you've not heard it yet, considering this shithole you're living in." The large man said.
"When do we leave?" the former assasin asked eagerly.
The thin sinewy man strode against the former assasin who seemingly was not the least afraid of the man who was closing in on him.
The former assasin punched the thin man in the nose so fast that his hand blurred.
As the man collapsed into a heap on the floor, the last thing he heard before falling into unconsciousness was "Almost too easy old fella..".

End part 2 The retired assasin..
Regards,
The President of UPD
(United Posts of Dust on a dusty road.)

The creativity is back I think

2006-09-18T09:32:00.000-07:00

Today I've been having lots of new Ideas on stories thats "in the workshop"..
I feel the urge to continue some of the stories I've started during my time blogging over here, so I'll try to continue something and I'll be back later.. I hope..

Sincerely,
The President of The UPD

(Translation UPD = United Posts of Dust on a Dusty Road)

My day/Disturbing Poll results!

2006-09-17T13:14:00.000-07:00

I've been redoing the whole site and adding new sections to the site, at http://www.retardus.com for most of the day and you can of course check it out, we are not trying to insult anyone with the use of the domain name or anything, we only have the domain name because we just call ourselves the Retardus team.
Other than that I've made myself dinner, been out cycling and watched booring shows on the television.

Now.. To the poll results.

Total Number of Votes: 69

A total of 51 out of 69 considered themselves to be intellectual, which is quite good, given the fact that they really are intellectual, 12 said NO which is allright, the question was about what they considered themselves to be, not what they really were, and 6 were Not sure, which is NOT all right under any circumstance, to answer that you are not sure on a question like this is like Screaming "I'm STUPID" to an audience, you should be glad that I didn't log your Name, IP and regular Adress, and sent it to mensa!
I will be switching the poll today and I hope I'll see some less disturbing results this time.

My day..

2006-09-16T15:48:00.000-07:00

Well.. I have to post something on a regular basis to keep this blog alive,
but yet again, my creativity seems to have left me for the day at least..
It seems I am too busy with other matters in my life to use my imagination
to something as time consuming as writing or thinking out some story.
Its pretty irritating I can tell you that..
Trying to concentrate on the writing exactly when something else pops into your brain.
Thinking "Then what happens next?" and suddenly "Why did that happen?" about something different entirely..
I've also had a friend over, we ate, played some computer multiplayer games, and watched a rental..
Thats my "today"..
How was yours?

Foad thursday..

2006-09-14T13:03:00.000-07:00

The flames will consume our world wide and whole.
And the hounds of the devil will steal away your soul.
The way to survive the fires of hell,
Is hidden away and where, no one can tell.

The flames will devour and burn every creature.
When your face melts away together with each and every feature.
When each and every fool of the world die an agonizing death.
The devil shall schorch them with his fiery breath.

9/11 Poem..

2006-09-11T09:47:00.000-07:00

A drop of water fell silently through the air, allthough it was falling, there was no sign of anything anywhere near it, so it might as well have been standing still.
What gave the movement away, was the disturbance on the drop's, otherwise perfect surface, caused by the tiny resistance that the air around it offered.
The light of a rising sun caused the drop of water to glow red and the red color spread throughout the drop as the surface rippled and the shining light reflected upon the single straw of perfectly green grass that was placed in the middle of a gold wasteland mainly consisting dirt and jagged rocks, allthough the one straw of grass seemed tiny in comparision to the rest of the wasteland, it was clear that the one drop, the one red drop, of water was heading towards the one straw of grass placed in the middle of a gold wasteland.
The drop continued to fall silently towards the straw of grass, and when drop and straw met, not a whisper of a sound was created, because they met not in collision, but in embrasement.
This was how the nature silently paid its respect to humanity and its loss, the wind did not even move the grass slightly, as it bended under the red drop of water's weight.
Together they made a contrast filled candle, a candle lit with the help of both wind and sun, a candle made respectfully by the nature of whom we came.
Together the perfectioned red drop of water, and the amazingly green straw of grass, was paying their respects to humanity that so many times had abused them.
Together they formed a candle for those who died, and those who were left behind on September The 11th 2001.

Sincerely,
Ragnar

The morals of rich corporation owners equals nothing.

2006-09-10T11:30:00.000-07:00

Some people do not own morals.
They are simply not blessed with such a humanly thing as humanity..
They seem to be unable to add other people into the image of their world.
Anyhow..
I'm not talking about most people, just some people, like for example The Coca Cola company ruins water resources in India, even though they made an agreement to preserve exactly the same resources.
This is just one example of companies that values morals the same as they value a piece of dogshit..
How would you like to drink water filled with acids and garbage from a Coca Cola factory?
And to work there only to be paid a 10th of the amount of a normal american citizen?
How would it make you feel, that the factory that was placed near you broke all the requirements that were required for it to stay there in the first place, and that the only reason it was still there was because the factory's owners bribe the local politicians to speak in the factory's favor?
If you leave powerful people unchallenged for too long they are bound to check were the boundry goes.
The whole "money is power" system that is the basing for todays society is corrupt to its foundations.
So basically to remove corruption entirely from the world, we must change the way society is set up.
To remove corruption from our system we must disable the so called karismatic people's opportunity to dupe most of the other people, lead them behind the light, and get to power from other people's
ignorance.

Happy birthday to me../Open post(Yes again..)

2006-09-10T04:34:00.000-07:00

Yes, today the 10th of september is my birthday, and forgive me for not Writing my 9/11 tributes today, but I want to stay happy to some extent..
I will not tell you how old I am, I can quite honestly say that I'm very young, and I'll leave the rest for your imagination and the picture of me you can base on previous posts.
I don't have time to post much more today, because some friends are coming down any moment, after that we'll get over to the cinema or rent some movies, so I'll leave most of the writing for my visitors today.
Please feel free to spit out your political opinions, or rants about the big companies, or tell us how stupid celebrities are..
All thats left for me to say now, is Have a nice day, and if you are mourning lost ones, I hope all the nice tributes out there in the blogging world will help you get through the day.
And that I'll be back to post something of more creative and intellectual substance later :)
I realize now that today is not the best possible day to post jokes, so I'll wait until "The day afte tomorrow"(not the movie).
But Still, I'll be back, and feed you with something a lot harder to decipher later on.

Regards,
President of the UPD(United posts of Dust on a Dusty Road.)

The dilemmas of life../Open Post

2006-09-08T12:17:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had the feeling that if you took the opportunity and did what you really wanted, it would have dire consequenses later on in your life?
(I feel like that all day long, I mean, I wanna kill all those bastard arrogant teachers that think they're smarter than me, but I refrain from doing so simply because of the cosequences.. I'm actually quite proud :p)
Its not always about as dailyday things as wanting to kill your teachers though, you might for example, get a new job offer, or get a publishing offer from two publishing companies.(or having to choose between two of your favourite dinner choices.. :D)
This is actually my first open post, simply because I want to post SOMETHING in my blog today but I'm at what I call, a Creative breakdown..
Which means.. "I DON*T HEAR THE RHYMING VOICES IN MY HEAD ANYMORE"(buhuu)..
Anyhow, I want to hear a little about your dailyday dillemas, or out of the ordinary dilemmas, and if you have a post on the dilemmas of life I'll be glad to read it..
So please, use this opportunity to talk about, almost everything(even tell me how much you like/hate my blog), and market your name and blog at the same time :)

Regards,
The President of the UPD (United Posts of Dust on a Dusty Road)

Foad thursday inspired poem.

2006-09-07T07:29:00.000-07:00

The fools of the world, are still waiting to be killed.
The fires of hell are not easily chilled.
To escape, you must know that the answer is simple.
Just believe in god, and praise each and every pimple.

If you believe that, then you are one of the fools,
To escape the devil, you must be more than just cool.
The mind is needed, in a fiery maze.
And when your friends dissapear without one single trace.

To escape, you must outsmart the evil being.
That can destroy whatever you are seeing.
To escape, you must jump over fires, mile high.
There is no other way, unless you just won't die.

To escape the devil is impossible, but you can at least try..

"The 'Retired' Assasin" Part 1

2006-09-06T14:11:00.000-07:00

An owl hooted, as the sound of steps neared a small clearing, in the midst of a dense oak forest.
The clearing was about 20 paces accros, and formed in an almost perfect circle.
The clearing was floored with grass, and the only tree was standing almost in the middle, to the left of a small house.
The house was made out of solid wood, was unpainted, only one floor tall, had 2 small windows, and a massive front door.
The house was what in those days were called, a forester's hut, it was a simple building, where men or women could live in pact with nature, and live on the fruits given by mother earth's generousity.
But, this perticular hut, was not the home of such a peaceful creature.
This was the home, of one of the most wanted men in the history of crime, the master of assasination, now retired, with a name, only his closest friends knew, all others, feared and knew him as, the king of shadows.

He had once speacialized in sneaking up behind his victims, pricking them on the arm with the point of his knife, and when they turned around, almost immediately, he cut their throats, because stabbing people in the back, was a cowards way out, and besides, he had once liked being showered in the warm blood.
The man who lived there, did not look anything like the assasin he had once been, he was almost skinny, tall, had long limbs looking like thin branches, rough brown hair, and green eyes.
He sat in a chair, in the combined kitchen and living room, and appeard to read a book that lay upon the decorated table, in the otherwise plain room.
There was a book shelf with a few but large books in it, an old fireplace made out of some grey stone that was full of cracks, and a decorated work table, where he prepared food for cooking, and carved different wooden items, if the weather was bad.
The sound of steps was nearing now, he had known someone was coming for quite a long time, and he was prepared for them, whatever their business with him might be.
He saw two shadows passing his small window, and thought "I'm not that old, I can still handle two, if need be." The steps continued, and then stopped, before a rapid set of knocks on the door broke the silence.
The assasin had always thought letting people knock themselves bored on the door, and seing what they did next, was a good idea, because opening the door to the wrong sort of people could get you hurt, or worse.
"Better cautious than scarred" he whispered silently to himself, as another set of knocks, louder this time, interrupted the soothing silence.
If these people were of the right sort, he wouldn't hear more knocks, then he would open the door, and yell them back, but if they were of the wrong sort, they would probably knock down the door.

CHUNK!

The axe he used for cutting wood was now stuck through the door, and the men standing outside was trying to kick in what was left of it.
When the door finally gave way, the former assasin was wielding two, razor sharp, curved and generously decorated blades, forged of the finest steel.
"Well KING, we meet at last.." A cloaked man said in a sarcastic voice to the former assasin.

© Copyright 2006 Ragnar, The owner of this blog.

"Sneak Preview" A thread of hope.

2006-09-03T13:49:00.000-07:00

Its a few days since I've posted anything creative so I thought I'd give you
a sneak preview of the 1st part of my upcoming novel 'A thread of Hope'

A mild south east wind blew slowly throughout the charred town,
and spread the macabre smell of death and ashes through the windows
of the few houses left intact.
It was placed around the top of a scorched round hill, was about 2000 feet east,
west, north and south, it was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and
the top was surrounded by 20 feet tall reinforced granite walls..
The streets were literally soaked with blood, crushed coal lay
spread on top, and to make matters worse, random body parts lay everywhere.
This left the road looking like a river of bloody and chunky meat soup,
spiced with pepper.
The houses that were standing were literally falling apart,
and all walls were charred black.

However there where two locations that stood out from the devastated town.
One, a humongous castle surrounded by granite walls, which stood on the top of the hill, in the
center of the town.
The other a great stone tower, almost 10 feet in diameter and more than 100 feet tall.
This Tower was located 20 paces from the castle's outer wall, was made out of almost shiny, white stone, had a small paved plaza around it, a round platform with steps that it stood on,
one great iron door, and no holes, in the smooth stone walls, except at the top, where the tower suddenly changed into a giant sphere made out of massive crystal, with two balconies.
In one of the many rooms of the castle, the throne room to be exact, the young Mayor was talking to one of his generals.

© Copyright 2006 All rights Reserved, Ragnar T. Miljeteig

Why it seems like fate exists sometimes...

2006-09-02T10:41:00.000-07:00

Imagine..
All the people in the world is like one giant pond,
almost running out over the top of an edge.
Where every event is a wave of air brushing the pond,
Its strength determined by the event's importance.

So lets say an earthquake hits San Fransisco right..
Then a wind would start disturbing the water,(a strong wind)
and the wave's would spread throughout the pond,
disturbing almost everything in its way,
The seriousness of the disturbance decided by
how close the location was to the wave of air.

So if events decides how still or troubled the waters are,
Then your ability or inability to affect others,
depends on the water being still or troubled.

What I'm trying to say is,
Your life is as much controlled by incidents elsewhere,
or actions/choices made by others,
as by the actions/choices made by yourself.
It really is kinda creepy huh?
Its like a 50/50 shared responsibility for the happenings throughout your entire life.
Your own death is not entirely your fault, even if you kill yourself...
I mean, why would you kill yourself if you weren't affected by anyone or anything?
Or how could you join the football team, if someone didn't tell you it existed, and how you could do it?
It's like a game of cards, only that the "dealer" are all the other people in your life,
and the cards are the events that happen around you.

I'm not quite sure wether I believe in fate or not..
I'm gonna live a little longer 'fore I decide on something as vital as that :P

MY BLOG CARNIVAL

Dusty Carnival for Quality writing.. Launched.

2006-09-02T04:51:00.000-07:00

I've managed to launch my own blog carnival at:
http://dustycarnival.blogspot.com/
Please pay it a visit if you have quality writings written by yourself of any kind,
If it is an article, rant, regular blog post, short-story, or whatever..
If it is any good, it is in..
Contributing will not only qualify you as a good writer, but help to get you more readers,
and link popularity.

Anniversary! (One month.)

2006-09-01T12:24:00.000-07:00

My month is finally 1 month and 21 posts older.
I celebrate this with my flashpowered cartoon..
Sauron VS. Dust on a Dusty Road Part 1.
Hope you find it amusing lol..
:P
The drawings sux though.. They are meant to.. (Or are they??)

8 Reasons that explain,Why I write

2006-08-31T12:38:00.000-07:00

(And why you should, if you do not..)
1.Writing allows me to escape from the hindrances that exist in real life,
Racism, idiocy, insults, shallow people, everyday irritating things that makes life
So much worse, than it could have been.
2.It allows ME to choose what happens to person.
3. It allows me to let out my emotions, without hurting anyone that i care about,
4. It allows me to do what I want with "my world" instead of being pulled around
by events around me with the scary feeling
that "fate" actually do exist.
I have a theory on why it seems like fate exists too but i'll get back to that later..
5.It also allows me to tap into a world without boundries, a world where I make the
rules, a world where everything my fantasy produces can be played into life, without
anyone being hurt, emotionally or physically.
6. It allows me to do something else than waste my time in front of the tv or playing
computer games when I'm bored and the weather is horrible.
7. It allows me to improve my reading, spelling, and regular grammary.
8. And last but not least.. I simply LOVE it!

Its official:

2006-08-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

That I'm a Blog junkie!

That this blog makes you intellectual:

That i have a personal seal.(DoaDR = Dust on a Dusty Road)

And that these movies are extremely funny:
Ze lord of ze rings:
how it should have ended
Ze Zuperman Returnz:
how it should have ended
Zeven:
how it should have ended
Ztar Warz IV:
how it should have ended
Just a quick break from watching howitshouldhaveended movies ;)

Best of Dusty Poetry and Conspiracy theories.

2006-08-30T04:50:00.000-07:00

Dusty Poetry:
...........................
The Devil's Try.
..................... ..
The sky did fall unto the ground,
as the master of night released his hound,
The prey he sought, was not of men,
but of the ideas that guided them.

Creatures of such ideas fell,
into the killing heat of hell.
Why us ? They thought.
We could have fought,
We could have won, We could have run,
The thought had visited more than one.

Time did pass, as birds did fly.
Walking the eagle had to try,
The sky was black, night and day
Which it was, none could say.

The earth was hell, The humans fell,
The creatures that sought the same as well,
An end to pain, was all they sought.
Ideas, began to be forgot.

As soon it'd come, as soon it went.
The hell on earth, the devil had sent.
The trouble was, the devil thought.
With life destroyed, who would he have fought?

© Ragnar, The owner of this Blog.
..............................................................
Dusk to Dawn.

This state of day looked almost drawn.
When dusk turned slowly into dawn.
With clouds of pink and white and gray.
The sky the blue of a summer day.

The sun that slowly rose, seemed too shout 'here's dawn'.
And when it neared the lingering clouds the colors seemed to storm.
The waves of green, topped with white.
Witnessed the breathtaking sight.
As dusk turned into dawn.

Text: © Copyright Ragnar, The owner of this Blog.

...........................................

Do what you want.

..........................................

Dedicated to all Bloggers:

The road you walk, May not be easy.
And your stomach may be queasy.
Your quest have to be kept in mind,
And follow neither before or behind.

The dead do live even after death.
After their so called "last-breath".
But life when there, is not the same.
They know no love, or light, or shame.

The dead do live but in what form?
The sight will cause your brain to storm.
But now I live, and so i think.
The politicians now, of greed they stink.

So keep in mind, your goal still clear.
Or else, you might get lost I fear.
Walk down your road, for your own sake.
Follow others and your world will shake.

Express your feelings, right then and there.
If not, the pain through your brain will sear.
So write it down and spread the word.
And let if fly just like a bird..

© Copyright 2006 Ragnar - The owner of this blog.
.....................................................
Conspiracy Theories:
....................................................
Giant Blogs displaced? (AKA huge blogging conspiracy)
...................................................
Guess what ? Todays post is about Giant Blogs that (has been displaced) (or a huge conspiracy that sets out to control who people vote for) ?/(what do you think?)
Well I was going to surf my "almost-daily" blogsoldiers.com session today, when suddenly, a custom designed Giant blog appeared the Colored lines.
..........................................
Translations for the more/less technical knowleged of you:
(Giant blogs = Custom designed, member of a blog corporation, amazingly many visitors and commented like hell)
(In between the colored lines = In the blogsoldiers surf frame)
...........................................
And my first thought was "What the heck is a custom designed, member of a blog corporation, covered with a huge and expencive advertisement skyscraper section doing in Blogsoldiers?
I thought this was where blog started receiving visitors, and hell these guys where probably making their living from it. I did not for one second even consider the option that bloggers receiving 585+ comments on a single post in a single day would even bother surfing 1 page at blogsoldiers, much less spending money on credits here..
585++ comments, imagine all the people visiting that blog daily!
But that's not all..
After this, at least 4 more blogs of exactly the same network appeared on my screen, so what my question is, WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE ?
Are they being paid by the republicans or democrats to convert more people to their cause ?
(Or am I just being incredibly paranoid?)
Are they trying to control the world through readers?
Are they trying to steal the atteantion from the "little blogs" owned by ancious bloggers?
Or are they simply completely(and amazingly) displaced ?
....................................................
This will be updated as I see fit and mentioned in posts so that new readers can get an easy way to comment on numerous posts ;) (hint hint, Do leave a comment guys and gals..)

I see GOD DAMN BLOGGER ERRORS!

2006-08-29T12:58:00.000-07:00

"Network error,"
"Page does not exist"
"Page has no content"
"Server error"
The list goes ON!
Can anyone tell me WHAT THE HECK is going on ?
AND the countless list of errors repeats itself, by the hour!?!?
Are they trying to rid themselves of all users and make it a paid service or what?

The Random Blogs projects.

2006-08-29T06:55:00.000-07:00

(No this is not a technical blog for the most part)
But.. Yes.. I made a script.. Hah!
But serious, I made this script as a project to help small blogs get more traffic, by displaying 1 random link on a network of blogs..
It's like charity man..
But for this to work, I need your help.. (YES YOURS!*pointing my long crooked finger at you*)
I need you to click(difficult right?) "add your link" in the "Random Blog Links" section of the sidebar put the Iframe script on your blog, then add your own link :D
I will check the links added daily, and add a confirmation system when I can figure out how to make it fit.
Hopefully, this will cause good but unknown blogs, to receive the amount of readers they deserve.
Example if you can't see it in the Sidebar section:

Do what YOU want, not what THEY want you to.

2006-08-28T07:06:00.000-07:00

Spread the word!

2006-08-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

If you like the poll, copy it to your blogg by clicking "add to your blog" and following the instructions there! Let the big guys know that we do not like them!Put this script on your site:

The ramblings of an old man.

2006-08-27T11:00:00.000-07:00

The old man lay upon the floor,
The young man stood at the door.
My son, The old man said,
He looked at him in dread.

I'm dying my friend, but I'll be born again,
An for those who may be bound,
I leave this wicked ground.
For those who fear in dread,
the terrors of the dead,
Its all a simple lie,
That it is bad to die.
For The one's who's left behind,
See the world as kind,
For those who left you will,
Live beyond here still.
Their thoughts will still be born,
And useful things be bred.
Even though, its not in flesh,
Ideas can still be spread.
For those who live here still,
Stay true in heart and will,
And face the hardest life,
With honesty or knife.
For the afterlife is the same,
Whether you die in peace or pain.

To be continued later...

P.S. Vote for me in the battle

Dusty Award update: New design! (Improved)

2006-08-25T11:32:00.000-07:00

So I have updated the Award design to the better..
Minerva won because of her modernistic unique design, and her skilled, beautiful writing..

View it in full format here!

Interesting sites..

2006-08-25T06:21:00.000-07:00

Ronald Mcdonald and Hummer has made a business deal, so that "Happy Meal" (more like "Happy Poison") includes a mini-version of a Hummer as a toy.
Make your own funny McD signs and file a complaint at:
RonaldMcHummer
.......................................
Blogexplosion, has been amazingly improved since last time I used it(which ended in a series of events that made me leave it).
Now you have all these new (and cool) features, like renting away advertising on your blog against credits, having a blog battle and much more..
.......................................

Giant Blogs displaced?

2006-08-24T09:49:00.001-07:00

Guess what ? Todays post is about Giant Blogs that (has been displaced) (or a huge conspiracy that sets out to control who people vote for) ?/(what do you think?)
Well I was going to surf my "almost-daily" blogsoldiers.com session today, when suddenly, a custom designed Giant blog appeared the Colored lines.
..........................................
Translations for the more/less technical knowleged of you:
(Giant blogs = Custom designed, member of a blog corporation, amazingly many visitors and commented like hell)
(In between the colored lines = In the blogsoldiers surf frame)
...........................................
And my first thought was "What the heck is a custom designed, member of a blog corporation, covered with a huge and expencive advertisement skyscraper section doing in Blogsoldiers?
I thought this was where blog started receiving visitors, and hell these guys where probably making their living from it. I did not for one second even consider the option that bloggers receiving 585+ comments on a single post in a single day would even bother surfing 1 page at blogsoldiers, much less spending money on credits here..
585++ comments, imagine all the people visiting that blog daily!
But that's not all..
After this, at least 4 more blogs of exactly the same network appeared on my screen, so what my question is, WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE ?
Are they being paid by the republicans or democrats to convert more people to their cause ?
(Or am I just being incredibly paranoid?)
Are they trying to control the world through readers?
Are they trying to steal the atteantion from the "little blogs" owned by ancious bloggers?
Or are they simply completely(and amazingly) displaced ?

Dusk to Dawn

2006-08-23T10:33:00.000-07:00

The Devil's try.

2006-08-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

The sky did fall unto the ground,
as the master of night released his hound,
The prey he sought, was not of men,
but of the ideas that guided them.

Creatures of such ideas fell,
into the killing heat of hell.
Why us ? They thought.
We could have fought,
We could have won, We could have run,
The thought had visited more than one.

Time did pass, as birds did fly.
Walking the eagle had to try,
The sky was black, night and day
Which it was, none could say.

The earth was hell, The humans fell,
The creatures that sought the same as well,
An end to pain, was all they sought.
Ideas, began to be forgot.

As soon it'd come, as soon it went.
The hell on earth, the devil had sent.
The trouble was, the devil thought.
With life destroyed, who would he have fought?

© Ragnar, The owner of this Blog.

Dusty Blog of The Month Award..

2006-08-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

I decided to make my own blog of the month award.
And I am proud to present that this month's winner is Minerva's blog: A woman of many parts..
http://www.womanlyparts.blogspot.com

Because of the quality of her writing and the incredible design..

Dusty Blogs of past months:
*None yet*

The Man of The Mountains (unedited version)

2006-08-15T14:23:00.000-07:00

Tiny drops of sweat beaded on a huge man’s forehead. He stood in the middle of a humungous mountainside.
The man was young, almost in his middle years, he had black hair, cut short, which he never could quite restrain from looking rough, and green eyes.
His body was muscular, his arms looked like very thick ropes, and his shoulders were broad.
His chest was large, covered up in muscles, and his legs looked like they should belong to a bear.
He wore plain woollen trousers, held up by a worn leather belt holding a hefty axe, a white linen shirt, and new, brown tanned leather boots, which still hurt to walk in.
His eyes moved quickly from spot to spot on the lower part of the mountainside, he couldn’t see anyone, but was convinced that someone was there, following him.
He thought he saw something moving down the mountainside, near the slope, so he quickly started moving again.
“They’re going to catch me, they are, I know it!” He thought, “They won’t, you fool, you are halfway, and they’ve only just started!”

He quickened his pace a little, and moved towards the lowest spire of the enormous mountain, or at least so it seemed.
The mountain was huge, though not very steep, and not really tall, but there were at least 6 jagged spires, and it was all blueish grey stone, with edges and holes everywhere.
There was not really a path up there but, the man had found a way up when he was younger.
In his mind he could see the ones chasing him, catching up with him and beheading him on the spot.
“I haven’t done anything at all.” He thought..
“So why are they chasing you then?”
He had just stood there, on the mountain slope, watching the events.
The little town he had lived in was now partly collapsed, crushed by large rocks.
And they blamed him, claiming the mountain seemed his best friend.
“Like the mountain had its own will and intended those rocks to smash those houses. They are all mad!” He thought.
“It was an avalanche, I had nothing to do with it!” “Didn’t you?” “Then why are you arguing with yourself?” “I’m not…” He realized that he was in fact having an argument with himself, and thought he was going mad.
He had just been sitting a little up the slope of the mountain, when they started yelling for him.
“Fedrin Odilhes!” They had called after him. “Yes, Fedrin is my name”. Fedrin thought, as he continued against the spire, or rather, the row of spires. “Didn’t even remember your own name? Now that doesn’t seem very innocent does it?”
Some inner voice inside Fedrin seemed to say. “Shut up! Just shut up.”
He told it, and it disappeared.

The people that lived in the village called the mountain Odilhesfernat, which meant “Spires many”.
He had been named Fedrin Odilhes (Born by Spires) because the people in the town had found him near the row of spires.
When he finally was at the lowest spire, he went up to the carving in the stone, which looked like a doorframe.
He touched what would have been the door with his hands, and thought of the door moving upwards. And the door of stone slowly started to creep upwards.
Revealing what seemed to be a tunnel.
When the door had disappeared completely into the roof of the tunnel, he went inside and thought of the door of stone closing the opening again.

Before it closed entirely a grey mountain wolf darted through the opening.
The opening closed, and it should have been as dark as night in the tunnel, but sunlight shone through small holes in the roof, Fedrin took the hefty wooden axe from his belt and planted both feet steadily on the ground a few paces from the wolf. He wielded the axe in both hands with a fierce look in his green eyes.
The wolf darted forward, sharp teeth bared, when the axe rushed down and took of its head.
Blood splattered all over Fedrin, the floor, walls and the roof, and then as suddenly as the flow of blood from the neck had started, it stopped.
Fedrin smiled, “Being a lumberman had finally proved useful.”
He thought, as he took up the bloody wolf head and smashed it into the tunnel’s right wall.
He could not help feeling shaken as he cleaned his axe on the wolf’s fur and walked downwards in the tunnel.
He had made his first kill, and if he knew how many more he would have to murder, before this nightmare-like adventure was over, he would kill himself on the spot.

Walking down the plain tunnel, he realized that every bit of this tunnel was carved with precision that seemed impossible.
The stone was not ruffled, like most human work was, there was not even marks from chisels or pickaxes, the stone was completely smooth, almost as if the mountain had formed the tunnel by itself.
Even the holes in the roof, letting dimmed, greyish, sunlight in, was exactly 5 feet apart, and cut in perfect squares.
Being closed up in a tunnel filled with greyish light, it seemed like the walls was closing in on Fedrin, and his pace rapidly increased from a walk to a run, just to get out of the tunnel.
Where you couldn’t tell one meter of stone from another, other than the difference in height. Fedrin’s steps echoed throughout the tunnel, in a way that made it seem like someone was following him.
He was on the edge of giving up, when the tunnel straightened, and a doorframe, just like the one earlier, appeared in front of him.

Desperate to get out, he thought of the door exploding, but unable to really concentrate because of his ragged breathing, he sat down to the stone floor, trying to settle his breathing and the feeling that the walls was closing in on him.
“Ok now, Breath slowly.” He told himself, and his ragged breathing started to turn into a slow and calm one.
He thought once again of the door exploding, and this time the door obeyed his thought.
The door slowly cracked, from the middle and outwards, as if resisting, but then, suddenly it burst out of the frame in pieces, leaving a rectangular hole in the mountainside.
He heard some weird noises outside but darted out nonetheless.
When he came out of the tunnel, he blinked a few times to adapt his eyes, and realized he was in a hidden valley, and, that two very small, muscular, human-like, bearded, grey eyed creatures with grey skin, was standing on either side of him, wielding long handled spears.
He saw a blurred movement and felt two spear-points against his neck, he studied their eyes, looking for some sort of hint, but all he could see, was determination.
All hope was lost, or was it?

The fakeness of Politics..

2006-08-14T16:14:00.000-07:00

Hey, what have you been up to since last time?
Well, for a start, I've been watching the news enough to know that Hizbollah and Israel have entered this state of fake peace, and that both sides claims they've won.
(Israel forces actually murdered 2 Hizbollah activists after the state of peace had begun)
In my opinion most politicians are liars and it seems to me that israel's president is not unlike the biggest part of them.
It can't be hard to say the words "Don't use any military force against Hizbollah activists".
But I'm also sure that Hizbollah is probably preparing for or planning the next attack against israel.
So frankly I do not know whom it is morally correct to support and I confess, I'm not sure I would support any of the sides even then.
Its not as much that I do not know whom to support, its more that I don't support any of any side's actions, but enough about that.
I've also watched the movie Pirates of the Carribean: The Dead Man's Chest at the cinema.
The movie was entertaining, full of surprises, and sometimes extremely funny..
But,(movies always has "but's".. remember that..)the connection was sometimes kinda vague, and I thought the backround story was kinda clishe/pathetic.
I enjoyed the movie anyhow, and would give it a 4,6-7 out of 6.
I've also completed a tag board script thats quite advanced, Its called The Retardus Shout-B and leaves you with the option to use one and the same tag board on multiple pages or multiple tag boards on multiple different pages.
It also has an advanced back end password protected admin area.
So I hope this proves to you I'm not just "some dumb blogger"..
Oh btw. You can find out more about the script here.

I See Dumb Bloggers!

2006-08-10T10:38:00.000-07:00

When I first started blogging all the other bloggers were, at least to some extent, intellectual.
As the days passed however, more and more dumb bloggers popped up, copied someone else's posts, splashed ads all over the blog, and thought that someone would bother to stay long enough to click one ad.
Thus, only the blogs owned by people that was to some extent intellectual, got readers.
After a while though, people started paying attention to the dumb bloggers' babbling and ramblings, so now, every now and then, I see a blog with lots and lots of comments, but when i start reading through the posts, I don't understand why anyone would bother even reading it,
Much less commenting it (unless the comment's sole purpose would be to make fun of the blog and its owner).
These blogs that only posts things other people have written, or with things the owners have edited a word or two in and calls the post their own, and to top that, the whole blog is covered up in ugly ads that scream: "I am an ad!"
So, here is my question, why are people reading these pityful blogs?
Are they dumb too?
Do they read them instead of newspapers?
Or have they simply not seen the posts anywhere else before?

Who's right, and who's wrong ?

2006-08-10T06:40:00.000-07:00

Well, now with the new midwest crisis, the fighting between Hizbollah and Israel, I can't help wondering if any of them has the better reason..
Allthough I would never support such extreme actions, what if one of them actually can defend their attacking the other part in a discussion and win, now matter how well-spoken the opponents are.
So, lacking being a member of UN's security counsel, I'm asking you(yes you!).
Who do you support in this war?

Doom

2006-08-01T12:28:00.000-07:00

This is not meant as a prophecy.. Just some words skribbled down when I was in a bad mood.

The glow of love shall fade, as immense hate take flight.
The earth will rotten from a sacred grove, turning into blight
The sky so blue will fade to gray.
And hundreds' death is everyday.
The earth a dreaded sight.

The sun so bright will turn to black.
The moon stuffed into the devil's sack.
From sane to mad, from mad to sane.
The world will sit and watch in vain.

Beginning to end, end to begining,
god takes no side, cause he sees no winning.
The people shattered, the children dead,
the few who survives will die in dread.

Without moon and light the world will die,
and none left to mourn and cry.

Welcome to my blog..

2006-08-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog..
This is the first post but, however, within a few minutes i expect to put in some posts of greater moral value.. (Just kidding)
What I'll really post is a few writings of mine..
Poems, short-stories, prophecies, novels and the likes of that.
Allthough I don't think I've got some outstanding writers talent, I'll put some posts in..
And who am I to judge myself ?
As my life is really quite boring at the moment i hope you don't hate me for not writing down the course of events that goes on at the present time being.