Wednesday, September 17- Alphabet Soup

       An Asylum is a very unpleasant place for the "patients" or, as we prefer, prisoners. Besides the obvious oppression which presides over this place, people can be very particular about how their madnesses are presented. Crazy people get petty, even pouty when one so presumptuously calls them such. Dare not or prepare to procure your will, for death will come promptly. Everyone here is preposterously prim, assured in the proper apparatus of their minds, even while demonstrating its utter pestilence. For those petty few who portray a picture of weakness, the psychopaths devour purposefully. Great in their own minds, and powerful enough to pose as providers of peace, should one pay the proper price, though purveyors of lies is more appropriate. Here the patient prisoners rule, or are ruled, while the physicians present maintain prim composures, but privately pray for their lives daily. I am the one sane person in prison here, the asylum for criminally insane people. Jokes come with a price, I fear, but pretending madness has possibly cost me more. Killed, I'll be, of this I am pretty certain. Letting onto my facade, this pale mask of less than pure mindedness is peeling away. Maybe I am becoming crazy, I've persisted in this place more than I'd appreciate. No, I refuse to do so. Opposition is the key. Power will put me in a potential place of pride. Questions by the psychiatrists put me in a pretty awkward position. Really, they get much too personal. Still, I pretend I'm willing. Tonight, I will procure a tale of pure fantasy. Under the scope of psychiatric hate I will be put once more. Very much so, is this oppression. Why am I here? Xanthippe Killer, they called, I put fear in the hearts of prim and proper people, women in particular. Yes, I'm a murderer, that's why I have put on a pretext of insanity, pretense of pure crazy. Zombie-like they tried to make me with their precious pills, to put us in a docile place of mind, but I will not accept; wait... where are- Have I been talking to myself?

Tuesday, September 16- The Spoon's Perspective

          I lay in the sink, dirty with chunks of spaghetti sauce, wondering if I'll ever be clean again. I had just been unpacked from my box a few days ago, and now I've been handled, dunked in sauce head-first, and tossed nonchalantly into a large metal basin with a hole in the center. I've been left here for what seems like hours, hoping against all hope that somehow I'll regain my shine. The other dishes that have joined me seem rather unsocial, without even a single word of encouragement or sympathy. Suddenly a rush of water hits me head-on. I'm startled at first, but then I realize this will wash off all the dirtiness and I quiver faintly in excitement. One by one, all the surrounding dishes are run under this waterfall before me, and just when I think I'll never be cleaned by the looming figure above, I'm picked up, and run under the waterfall as well. I should have wondered where the other dishes were going, but I was too wrapped up in myself, and simply assumed they were put back in their boxes or shelves. Next thing I know I'm tossed into a large inlet in the wall, in a rack full of knives, forks, and SPOONS! Just like me! I try to start a conversation with my brethren, but before I utter a sound, a large darkness descends on us. I'm incredibly frightened. Just then, a guttural roar rises from the cavern we've been placed in. Then, above us all, a large blade looking device begins to spin and spray water everywhere. It sprays it so hard it hurts, unlike the waterfall in the metal basin, which was gentle and pleasant. The roar grows louder, and I faint from fright. I wake up to an unbearable heat. I fear I may melt from the intensity of it. Even the water which may have helped cool me down had ceased to spray. I found myself desperately begging some unknown presence to let me free from this horrific torture. The heat only intensifies and I faint once again, though not from fear; This time it's the heat.  When I wake up, I feel dazed, and my thoughts are jumbled. When they clear again, I realize why none of the other dishes attempted to be friendly. After years of enduring this, their brains had been so scrambled it rendered them speechless and mad. At this realization, I try to scream, but no sound comes out! I try again and again, but now I too, have been rendered speechless, caught in this cycle of torture. It won't be too long before I become mad as well, and slave to this awful race of beings I'll live out my life, tortured in body and mind.

Monday, September 15- What the Duece

          It was finally the day. Marie was thrilled and sick at the same time. This was her wedding day. She knew that this would likely be the biggest celebration of the year in the small commune in which she lived. The inhabitants didn't drink, but there were other ways to celebrate. As she was dressing herself in the simple red cotton gown, she looked in the cracked mirror in her cabin. She was struck by the simplistic beauty brought out by the dress. She could understand why this was chosen over the traditional dress of brides. It was incredible, and radiated excitement. The nervous sickness vanished at that moment. Outside there would be no decorations but the trees, which was just how she wanted it. Her groom would be standing under the leaves of a giant oak, with their commune leader standing ready to wed them. It was then that one of her bridesmaids walked in.
        "Are you ready?"
        "One second, " said Marie. She put on the thin, white veil, covering her face, "Ready." The bridesmaid walked out, to tell the cellist, who would begin to play the Bridal Chorus. When Marie heard the music, she walked outside. When she saw the setting before her, she was enthralled. The oak was there, of course, full, and vibrantly alive. The sun shone through its leaves, giving everything a green tinge. Her groom stood underneath, black hair slicked back, in his formal suit, and his hands crossed before him. The cellist was playing the serene Bridal March, his horns glistening in the green-tinged sunlight. As she got closer to her groom, a flutist joined in, blue skin growing dark with effort, and a nearby fish began to play the maracas. Marie smiled. It was just how she'd imagined.
         
          "Poor girl."
          "Yes, indeed." Two psychiatrists sat in observation before a padded cell. Its occupant was completely oblivious to her situation. She was sitting on the floor, tied up in a straight jacket. A thin line of drool fell from the corner of her lip into her lap. She was completely gone. She had killed her husband some years before, just two months after their spur of the moment wedding in Vegas, leaving his mutilated body in the streets of the trailer park where they lived. She was later incarcerated into the Broadmoor hospital for the Criminally Insane. She had sat like this, staring blankly into a universe only she could see. The two psychiatrists exited from the observation chamber. The girl, Mary, sat in her cell unmoving. Then, just a ghost of a smile flickered across her lips.
      "You may kiss the bride."

Tuesday, September 9-Film Review

     
*Disclaimer: this is completely made up, and this movie was never seen by the critic writing this.
     

            A visual masterpiece, Hugo offers little else. The thin and directionless plot would leave us scratching our heads and wishing we never wasted the 2 hours of our lives, were it not for the thrilling visual effects. Asa Butterfield and Chloe Grace Moretz bring a heartfelt performance worthy of their stardom, and they work well together. Though the plot goes nowhere, it provides a charm that doesn't fail to entertain, and brings thoughts back to the innocence of childhood. This is definitely worth a view, if for nothing but to be able to hold intelligent conversation about the film with the few who saw it. (It failed to match its budget in gross income.)

Monday, September 8- America, Fairyville?

           There once was a fairy who lived in a world

           made of fantasy and the dreams of little girls

          She flew too far, and ended up here

          A magicless, cold world steeped in fear

         mistaken for a bug, she was swatted at twice

         before she decided to turn them into mice

She waved her wand but alas!

      the magic failed to even make them rats

        She flew away quickly, filled with despair

      the shimmer vanished from her stupid pink hair

    her butterfly's wings drooped even lower

     then she was caught in the blade of a mower

The poor dear fairy, lost in reality

was stripped of her lively vitality

thank goodness she died before she found it again

Fairies are annoying and a massive pain

Friday, September 5- Aliens in Egypt

         The young king sat in his royal bed-chamber brooding. His parents were both dead and he had inherited the throne of Egypt. His caretakers, Ay and Horemheb, were telling him of all the things he would have to do to be a king. They cared for him and loved him, or so he believed, but they were asking him to undo much of his fathers work while on the throne. His father wasn't a kind man, nor much of a father, but young Tutankhaten felt a tinge of obligation to his father's ideals, as most sons do. Ay and Horemheb wanted him to return Egypt to its traditional religion, while his father had been slowly pulling away from it. Tut didn't know why. Hew didn't know why Ay and Horemheb wanted the old religion back either. At age nine he was too young to be knowledgeable about such things, much less to care about them. He wanted to simply run around, playing and flaunting his wealth to the palace slaves like he always had. 

             Suddenly, out of nowhere at all, a bright light shone on the boy's face, impeding his vision.  

          "Ra!" the boy called out, certain it was the sun god. A strange face peered at him from the light. It made strange sounds, as if it were attempting to communicate, but Tutankhaten couldn't understand it at all. The creature wore a crimson robe, trimmed with silver, and the complexion of it's skin was shining and golden. The light suddenly ceased and the creature he thought to be Ra stood before him. The newly anointed king stood before this being in awe. When the initial shock subsided, he immediately dropped to his knee, scolding himself for not having done so to start with. 

           The visitor had no idea what to make of this. Seeing that communication would be impossible, assuming that this species was sentient at all, he climbed back aboard his ship. He turned the internal cockpit lights back on, and began closing the door. The boy looked up just as his craft disappeared to wherever it had come from to begin with. 

                King Tutankhaten knew what he had to do now. This visit from the divine Ra had made his path clear. Ay and Horemheb were right. He would return Egypt to the worship of their gods they had recently neglected. He would follow the instructions of his caretakers, who knew how to make this happen. He would make the gods look favorably upon Egypt once again. In his heart he held Ra as his special god, by whom he believed he had been visited. 

                "Ay! Horemheb!" It had begun.

                 Within two years his name would be changed to Tutankhamen and his caretakers, his most trusted advisers would have control of all Egypt, though by proxy. 

Thursday, September 4-Historical Accuracy

           Breaking news! There has been an extra-terrestrial creature spotted atop the Empire State building! The government is warning all citizens to avoid contact. Government agents are expected to make contact soon. The alien's space-craft wasn't spotted until it mysteriously materialized in front of the Empire Sate building, where it promptly landed, and the strange, humanoid creature exited the craft. It is said to be at least 8 feet tall and completely un-clothed. Goodness. We will continue with coverage of this shocking circumstance, and report any developments as they happen. 

         Those near enough to a radio to hear this report stopped in their tracks. This was completely unexpected. Aliens in the Big Apple? That kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen, other than in H. G. Wells stories. Jack Norman, a mafia trigger man, set his hooch on the counter and listened attentively. Despite this being the lowest point to date in this economic downfall, Jack was well provided for by his less than legal means of money-making, so he was able to afford a radio in his home. Jack badly wanted to see this anomaly, but with a warrant out for his arrest he had to lay low, and remain hidden. The radio broke in again with this report,

        There has been mass hysteria throughout the city, with riots and raids breaking out all over Manhattan. The panic first struck when the alien spotted on the Empire State building made this declaration,and I quote "I mean no harm to you or your society. Please don't attempt to harm me, and I'll soon be on my way." A shot was fired at the creature and the man who fired, Police officer Richard Smith, was vaporized instantly. The surrounding crowd began to panic, and soon after, to riot and loot the city's stores and shops, causing mass chaos. Police officers have futilely attempted to quell these riots, and continue now to try to maintain peace. 

      Jack's eyes lit up. Those idiot coppers were too busy to be looking out for him. This was his chance. If he was spotted, he could easily vanish into the rioting crowds. He got up, turned off his radio, put on his long overcoat and fedora, and walked out his door. He descended the stairs and exited the main tenement building. He could see already the hysteria spoken of on the radio. People were either running away from the Empire State building, or running towards it, all of them frightened, but also a little excited. As Jack joined the crowd heading towards the building, he saw looters trashing stores along the way. Clothes lay spilled out on the street, torn or dirty, often both. Radios and refrigerators were being loaded into stolen cars and taken away. Jack grinned. This was the best night of his life; he thrived on the chaos that surrounded him.
         
       A policeman stood in the path of the crowd, attempting to stop them from proceeding towards their destination. He failed, getting bumped and pushed around in the crowd. When he got to Jack, he was thrown down and trampled, something Jack took great pleasure in doing.
     
       The crowd reached the building, and Jack shoved and twisted his way towards the front. What he saw kept him staring in awe. The space-craft the alien had arrived in was twice as tall as the alien himself, (who was rather tall to begin with.) but only a few feet thicker. It was a shining, seemingly silver metal, though it must have been as light as aluminum not to have crashed through the roof. The Alien himself, whom had previously declared himself a martian, though Jack didn't know it, was blasting into a large group of coppers, disintegrating them with his eyes only. He had a large head, spindly, elongated limbs, his arms reaching below his knees, and skin like an alligator. He bared his teeth at the policemen he was killing methodically. Clearly he was pissed. His teeth were about the size of human teeth, but a deep, dirty yellow, and sharp as tacks. his eyes glowed red and he evaporated a few more of the coppers. They gave up, and ran as fast as they could away from him.

        One copper, on his sprint to escape the alien, saw Jack Norman and stopped immediately. Ever the man of duty, he proceeded into the crowd of observers to bring in his man. Jack spots him and grins. One more copper about to die. When the officer gets to Jack, Jack pulls out his large hunting knife and rams it into the heart of the police officer. The surrounding people are too engaged with the alien to notice this minor incident.
         The alien, once cooled down from his rage, makes a strange wailing noise. A type of lament, in regret for what he's done, Jack assumes. Having seen all he cared to, Jack calmly walks back to his apartment, and his radio.

      Breaking news! The alien spotted on the top of the Empire State building earlier today has been killed. The National Guard arrived on the scene shortly after the rampage ended with orders to shoot on sight. Though the bullets were unable to penetrate the skin of the creature, one found its way to the eye of the alien, killing it instantly. The riots have ceased, many have been arrested for their part in them. New York remains rocked by this tragic occurrence, but the crisis appears to be over. 
      In unrelated news, a Police Officer has been found stabbed to death in the street. Any knowledge concerning his death would be greatly appreciated by the NYPD.