Pilot Lights - Chapter 2

Ten thousand Years ago: The clan had settled farther north than any prior clans ever had, of course they didn’t know that, they knew very little of history, only that which they had seen for themselves. The leader of the clan was not very tall nor was he very big; he was however very fast. Few other clans were as successful as Wanderers, most likely because few other clans had a hunter as skilled as theirs. Their leader lived for the hunt, he would run and scream like no other had ever seen. On more than one occasion he would run an animal down all by himself, very few of the other hunters were able to keep pace with him, and very few of the other hunters would bring home even a third of the food he would win for the clan. It was his love of the hunt that drove the clan so far north, the challenge of surviving drove him to wander farther north and the clan would follow, of course he would never tell you this, you see the clan did not have language sufficient enough to put those ideas into words. The clan followed where their leader took them, not out of respect, but because he was the provider, it was his hunting that feed the children and that was all that was important to the clan.

The mate of the leader could not recall seeing any other clans or nomads in many many moons. Perhaps she thought in her own primitive way that they were the only ones still in the world, perhaps the others had perished to the dreadful cold. Although she lacked the language to say it or even to think it, she knew that lack of outsiders was bad, very bad. If she had the words to tell her mate that this was wrong she would have, she would have tried to make him stay where they were, but sadly that was not within her ability. The chief had given his mate a child nine years prior to this winter, and this was a very cold winter. The game was few and far between; the chief hunter was still able to feed the clan, however not as well as in prior years. Though their son was very healthy and full of life, other members of the clan had not been as successful in providing for the existence of a future generation.

The child of nine years was set to inherit the leadership of the clan one day from his father. That child spent a lot of time studying the man whose genes he carried, of course he had no idea what a gene was or that he had any. When the boy was three he picked up his fathers habit of staring at the stars very late at night. The clan though he was destined to be a protector, to keep look out like a good leader. His mother worried that he was to young to take the job of protector, as best she could think such things. The little man and his father made for a cute pair staring at the night stars. When the men went out on the hunt, the women and small kids would keep to their business. The woman would look after the little ones and do the caveman version of household choirs. The little ones would play and have fun, except for the son of the chief. He would be at the entrance of their cave looking across the landscape looking for signs of the return of his father. Signs of the hunt gone well, looking for…

The winter was the coldest she could remember and this day was bitterly cold. Late in the afternoon she saw her son fill with excitement, was the hunting party back so soon? As the men got closer, the bad news became apparent. All the men were coming back, all of them except for one. When the hunters were back they tried as best they could to mime the events leading up to the terrible news. Apparently they had tracked down a pack of wild animals, something fast like a deer. The chief was running the biggest of them down; it must have been an amazing site. The deer was frightened and scared and ran off the edge of a cliff, and the chief full of adrenaline kept chasing him before he realized the fall he was about to take, it was to late. One of the hunters saw him go over the edge, he looked like a bird in the sky, and he looked like he was free and happy, for a few seconds. The little one went back to the entrance of the cave, he was going to continue his lookout, to young to understand how futile such an act was. His mother looked at him and in her caveman brain thought that he was too young hunt, and the tribe most likely would not survive without a great hunter.

Broken Boys - A novel

Table of Contents

Intro: A few words from the author

Chapter One: (in progress)

PILOT LIGHTS - Chapter 1

Four Years and Two days ago: Carol watched as her baby boy climbed into the racecar. He had that look in his eyes, the look he had had since he was a small child. His eyes would glass over and all he could see was the stars or the challenge – the race. Carol was of course proud of her baby boy, he was going to be a famous racecar driver, but she was always sensible too. What if, what if he was in a wreck, what if something terrible happened to him, what if she lost her baby boy? That last one was the one that bothered her the most, what if she lost her baby boy like she had lost her husband? What would she do?

Everyday when Carol would look in her son’s eyes, she felt a pain deep down inside. That twinkle in his eyes was the same look his father would get. That look that took her husband away from her, that wanderlust, the need for the race, the need for the adventure, the need for the challenge. Carol’s husband was a fighter pilot. He was an amazing pilot, the envy of his squad. His friends would joke that he wanted to die, it wasn’t however true. He had no fear, when he was in the air, he was alive, and he could never fear being alive, he feared landing, he feared the day when they would no longer let him fly. He would come home at night and just stare at the stars. Carol would wake up at three or four in the morning and see him standing at the window, staring at the stars. The first year or two she would ask him what he was doing, and he would never have an answer, as if she had awoken him sleep walking. It was his love of the night sky that took them away from the city and out to the country was the stars could be seen so clearly.

That look in Carol’s son’s eyes was that look that her husband had when he would stare at the night sky. She would consider herself lucky from time to time that her son loved the racecars and not the flying, but they were both very dangerous and she knew that the racecar would take her son away just as the flying had taken her husband. Sometimes late at night when Carol was alone in her bed and couldn’t sleep, she would look up into the stars too. She was trying to find what it was that held such sway over the men in her life. Sometimes very late at night she would talk to those stars. Occasionally her star crossed conversations where her way of talking to her lost husband, her way of talking to her son who was always so far away. Her son was always somewhere else when she talked to him and her husband was just somewhere else. Once or twice a year she would have a drink when she couldn’t sleep, and then another. On one balmy September night two years ago her neighbors even had to call the police on her. She was yelling at the stars. She was screaming profanities that would make sailors blush. If someone were listing very closely though, through all the twist in turns of her rants they would find that she was furious at those stars, that took her husband from her and where well on their way to taking her only son to.

After four years of Carol’s son racing motorcars, Carol received the phone call she had feared, the call that her baby boy was not coming home ever again. Much like his father before him, the stars took called another one of her boys away to a place beyond the clouds. She discovered unfortunately what it was she would do if she lost her only child. Carol moved back to the big city, she found an apartment in the brightest part of town, a place so bright that no one ever saw the stars at night. And on the rare occasion that a streetlight had burned out Carol was the first to call the city works. She spent the rest of her days never looking at the stars again, she never figured out what it was in those stars that her men so longed for and she spent the rest of her life hoping that she never would.

Ney York Times - Icon of Truthiness and Factitudes.

I have been a long time resident of the Nooga for a long time (intentional silliness was intended and I would consider my knowledge of some of the major Chattanooga tourist attractions to be adequate. Well to get to my point the NYTimes ran this nice little article about the Nooga. The basic article was more or less the standard generic Chattanooga tour, the one that the little brochure would suggest for the whole family, but then it all fell apart. I was aghast when I read this.

4) LIKE A KITCHEN IN MAYBERRY
At Bea’s (4500 Dodds Avenue, 423-867-3618), you just walk in and sit at a big table with a lazy susan in the middle, which you will share with whoever else happens to be sitting there, and wait for your server. She will arrive with any of 10 items, like huge plates of fried chicken, barbecue pork, pinto beans, fried okra and cherry cobbler, and place them on the lazy susan. And she will return, over and over again, until you tell her to stop — because at Bea’s, it’s $9.75 for all you can eat. Bea’s grandsons run the place now. You might even see a hometown celebrity there, like Samuel L. Jackson.

Okay I want everybody to listen to me very carefully, this is important and it will appear on the test. Do you have a pen ready? Good. If you ever come to the Nooga for any reason at all do not and I repeat myself do not eat at Bea's restaurant. I wouldn't take somebody to Bea's restaurant unless I wanted them to hate me. Some interesting facts about Bea's: they will occasionally shut down for a week to clean. The first thing that bothers me is the thought that perhaps they are not doing enough cleaning while open that they occasionally have to close to catch up. The second thing that bothers me is that when they do decide to catch up on some cleaning it takes them a week to do it. Now I don't know that that is fact but I do not think I am going to take the chance. Also I don't like the idea of waiting in line to sit at a table with people I don't know. Lastly if that is what a kitchen in Mayberry is like than I am moving to Mt. Pilot.

The Inculpable (non)Believer

or Superheros and the problem of " Divine Hidenness


Let us take a look at a couple of note worthy superheros of the DC universe, specifically Superman, Batman and Captain Marvel (often erroneously referred to as Shazam much the same way as Frankensteins Monster is often referred to as Frankenstein). My interests is mainly in how they do what they do and why they do it that way. So let us start with the easy one.

A) Superman in the DC universe is a very visible superhero. His likeness can often be found gracing the front page of the Daily Planet. There is a reason he is so visible, he has to be to do what he intends to do. Superman saves people. Superman helps people. Superman cares about people. Why he cares is the topic of an entirely other post, but if you wish to know more I suggest you pick up "Superheroes And Philosophy", it is a good serious read and a lot of fun. Superman has to be seen to save people. If Lois Lane falls off of a building and Superman wishes to rescue her, he might not be able to do it with out her seeing him. He saves people in the day time when it is easier to see. He wears a bright and clearly visible costume so you know that it is him and that he is not going to hurt you, of course the bad guys know it is him also. He has the big S shield on his chest that makes him easier to identify, it also serves as a target if some one goes crazy and starts shooting. Innocents and civilians are less likely to be harmed because Superman is visible. If you lived in Metropolis you would have a difficult time denying that Superman exists. Superman probably doesn't care if you believe in him, but that belief is a necessary result of him doing his thing, and his world is the better for it. I won't deny that being Superman has a resulting boost to Kal-El's ego, but ego alone is not the reason to put on the red cape, at least not for the last son of Krypton. Unlike Superman, Captain Marvel is in it for the Vanity.

B) Captain Marvel also sometimes referred to as Shazam is in actuality Billy Batson. Captain Marvel much like Superman is a vanguard of Justice, graced with the Wisdom of Solomon. Captain Marvel is a Superhero because he has the Wisdom, Strength and Courage to want to and be able to save people. The Big Red Cheese is also very visible like his good pal Supes, and because he does what he does he is well recognized and idolized. That is all well and good, Captain Marvel in all his Wisdom wishes to do good and help people, but what about Billy Batson. Billy Batson is secretly Captain Marvel but he is also 12 year old boy. Like most boys Billy idolized Superman. He wished he was Superman. He wished to be a hero. But what he really wanted was to be popular, to be loved to be idolized himself. That is where the difference comes in, sure Captain Marvel is wise and sincerely want to do good, but Billy is not. Billy doesn't have the Wisdom of Solomon, the Strength of Hercules, the Stamina of Atlas, the Power of Zeus, the Courage of Achilles or the speed Mercury. He has only what every other 12 year old boy has, that and the ability to say the Magic Word that transforms him into a hero, a hero of 12 year old boys the world over. So even though Shazam like Supes does it for the good, Billy does it for the Vanity. So we now have two heros who want to help and save innocent people and are very visible because of it, but what if there were a hero who wasn't primarily concerned with saving the innocent but rather wished to punish the wicked?

C) Batman is a shadow, a rumor, a myth. He lurks in the dark and his picture isn't on the cover of the local newspaper. Batman is a creature of the night and criminals fear him. Batman is hidden for a reason, because it serves his purpose, it makes him a better criminal fighter (I think in this case we should distinguish what he does from what the above two heros do, Supes fights crime and wish to stop the crime from happening, Batman fights the criminals and wishes to punish those who hurt others). By now I hope you realize that I am not talking about the camping pastel Batman of the 60's TV show but rather the dark angry Batman of the comics. If being on the cover of the paper and doing interviews with spunky newspaper reporters helped Batman punish the wicked, he would do it, but it doesn't. Being an entity of fear and darkness and shadows lets him punish the wicked so as the good can sleep safely in their beds at night and not have to suffer the fate that happened to him as a young child.

So at this point you are wondering what the hell does this have to do with anything! Well, let me explain. We looked at three Superheros. Superman is very visible because he has to be to help people, Captain Marvel is a hero because Billy Batson has the vainity of a child and wishes to be loved. Batman is hidden and mysterious because it helps him punish the wicked. Now for the blasphemy. Replace the words Superman, Batman and Captain Marvel with the word God. Of those three worlds, which one best describes the world we live in.

A world where God is visible because he wants to help people?
A world where God is visible because he wants to be loved?
A world where God is hidden because he wishes to punish the wicked?
Or perhaps you would rather believe in a world where there are no superheros.

Love To Let You Down

Willing to start again, Willing to give another try. Willing to pretend but still so dead. Willing to Comprehend Willing to give up all my pride Willing to forget but still so dead And it's Starting to take its toll And it's starting to unwind But the quicker that things unfold The quicker that they subside And writings on the wall But the walls have all come down If you can't see past the truth I love to let you DOWN...... Willing to walk again Willing to step back in the light, Willing to forget but still so dead Willing to turn my head Willing to let my feelings slide Willing to befriend but still so dead. And it's Starting to take its toll And it's starting to unwind But the quicker that things unfold The quicker that they subside And writings on the wall But the walls have all come down If you cant see past the truth I love to let you... And it's complicated And it's complicated Everything that I've known What was up is now down And it's overrated And it's overrated Everything that I know And I love to let you.... I love to let you.......... And it's Starting to take its toll And it's starting to unwind But the quicker that things unfold The quicker that they subside And writings on the wall But the walls have all come down If you can't see past the truth I love to let you And I'm willing to start again To give it another try I'm willing to start again --Life of Agony

Quick Update

I am probably going to be quite this week.
I am working on a paper for my philo class.
So far I know what to write but every time I sit down to type I get nothing.
Nada.
Zip.
Zilch.
Zero.

Rabbit Carousel at the Chattanooga River Park