Episodic Music: The Great Red Eye Part VIII

Breaching the Jovian Atmosphere

The Great Pendulum gained velocity as it raced towards the giant planet below, the first rumblings of atmospheric friction dazzling the camera views on the exterior of the ship - that they could survive such punishment was amazing!  Shem re-checked his exterior monitors in triplicate, ensuring that each was operating optimally with no sign of malfunction or damage.

So far, so good.

Years of space travel couldn't have prepared him for how quickly his field of vision would limit as the atmosphere began to thicken as they screamed towards the heart of the storm.  He could no longer see the blackness of space behind the craft, instead he saw a faint blue sky quickly being obscured by ever-thickening wisps of brown and red.

Soon, Cosmonaut Aglig would venture where even the Sun had never been.

Civil War of the Shihmen Woods (or the war of teenage aggression)

Our clubhouses were never this nice

Oh, the woods.  If you never grew up near any type of wooded area, you honestly missed an urgent matter of your childhood and should put this down, move to a wooded area and build a clubhouse to defend before reading any further.

Across the street from my boyhood home, behind a row of houses and up a small hill existed a mythic place for boys aged 5-10, and a place to hang out and be delinquents for those 13 and over.  For we younger lads, the woods were to be explored throughout, clubs to be established and treasure to be found.  For the teenagers, the woods belonged to them, they were there first. 

While the specifics of how the war between the kids and teenagers began have long been lost to ages, here’s what probably happened:

My brother and a few of his friends from the other side of the woods were running around being 9-10 boys.  Playing ‘guns,’ ‘hide-n-seek and building indestructible ‘forts’ out of found barbed wire and branches occupied summer days endlessly.

Where was I on September 11, 2001?

The following is my best possible solo recollection of the events of September 11, 2001.  While my memories are incredibly vivid, this entry should most likely still be considered one of my 'mostly true' events, as human memory is deeply fallible and often flat out wrong (despite our certainty otherwise).  This is the exact reason anecdotes (A short and amusing or interesting story about a real incident or person) are not reliable data points for things like ghost sightings, UFOs (and their alleged abductions), bigfoot sightings, cancer 'cures' etc.  That said, here's what a remember:

It was the beginning of my sophomore year in college.  The weather that day was incredible - blue skies with light fluffy clouds scattered about, and just enough of a hint of autumn to refresh the soul.  I was driving from my home in Nashville to Murfreesboro (about a 30 minute drive) when I first heard the news.

The first report seemed rather bland and somewhat uneventful, since early reports were cautious.  My favorite morning show at the time (John Boy & Billy) interrupted their usual banter to announce that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.  My initial thought was that it was a small 2-5 seater, not an airliner.  Remembering the first bombing of the WTC, I said aloud to myself "Can't the twin towers catch a break?"

Attack of the B-Boats!

Let's see if I keep you on board for this one.

First, a little background:

As a child (we're talking 5 and under) I was afraid to death of floaties in the bathtub. These floaties could have been anything: but were usually bit of dirt, or a dead ant from my outside adventures (usually not feces, but how can you not just assume so when I say "bathtub floaties"). I think I was afraid that these UFO (unidentified floating objects) were going to sting or bite me, and cause me pain that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I would often make my dad or brother get a cup and scoop the offender out of the tub. The floaties became known as b-boats (beboats, bee-boats; I've never really had to spell it out).

Are you Metal: Part 2

Me, being rather un-Metal

There's this genre of music that the youngsters seem to have embraced in the past couple of years called Dubstep.  Yes, I'm keenly aware that you can trace the origins of this genre to the late 90s - but that doesn't make it any better.  You may have guessed that I'm no fan of the genre as a whole, but that's how I treat most genres aside from the untouchable Jazz.  What troubles me most is the somewhat understandable comparison some people make between Dubstep and Heavy Metal.

Sure, they can both be pretty heavy at times and make nods to subjects on the fringe of society - but is that enough to make the comparison.  To put it bluntly, no.  To put it obscenely no fucking way in hell.

A call from the Nation (of Islam)

How my wife and I actually looked in 2008

I just want to emphasize that I understand the following is the exception to the rule.  This is an indictment of no one, except the parties directly involved.

In 2008, my wife Michelle and I had just celebrated our third dating anniversary.  That very same night, I got a random phone call that was quite a treat.  The following is my official account of that phone call; the names have been made-up to protect the derps.

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If I told you that my girlfriend was a defacto prostitute, you might become confused, and wonder why she's still with me if I were to refer to her in such a manner. This is a relatively new phenomenon in our relationship, because until just recently I was kept in the apparent dark regarding her shadowy nature.

Episodic Music: The Great Red Eye Part VII

The Terrible Looming Procellea

Track Available for Purchase Here!

As the chatter from his post-release procedures faded into the background of his subconsciousness, Shem found stared unblinking at the sight that filled every millimeter of his field of view: Jupiter and the Great Red Eye.  As he fell, irreversibly, towards the tempests' of a billion years his computer systems whirred away taking measurements, ensuring stability and monitoring Shem's own vital signs.

"Cosmonaut Aglig, everything okay?  Your heart rate and blood pressure have raised steadily over the past several minutes," his radio called, bringing him out of his daze.  "Everything is fine.  Seeing the approach of storms that are bigger than entire planet is... unnerving to say the least," he replied while trying to distract himself from the scene playing out before his vessel.  "Should you prefer, we can turn on the view dampeners, so you won't have to watch the entire - "

"No," Shem interrupted mission control without hesitation.  "I want to see this.  I need to see this," as he turned his eyes back outward, this time with steely determination.  "The terrible looming procella of this magnificent titan will not deter me, we proceed as planned."

And so, for the next several hours, Shem Aglig watched as the gargantuan swirls of clouds and violent upheavals of colorful vapor beckoned him tauntingly.  Shem Aglig was a tiny man, heading straight into the terrifying eye of the solar system.