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JamesSavik

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  1. JamesSavik
    I know what you did.
     
    It was a big mistake to leave me alive.
     
    You tried to kill me but like a poor workman, you botched the job.
     
    I begged you not too but you just laughed.
     
    My family didn't matter.
     
    Nothing mattered but you, your ego and your duplicity. You took it all.
     
    There was however a complication. I survived.
     
    For a while I didn't want to. I'm not sure how but I found a way.
     
    It wasn't easy and someday I will be sure to thank you for that.
     
    You really couldn't have picked a worse enemy if you tried.
     
    I'm cunning, resourceful, patient and creative.
     
    It's not hot rage that guides me.
     
    It is cold cunning.
     
    It's not emotion and anger.
     
    It is reason and the rage for revenge.
     
    I don't care how long it will take.
     
    You will never see it coming.
     
    I am going to make what you did to me look like the work of an amatuer.
     
    I'm going to make it last a long time.
     

    Sleep well.
     

    See you soon.
  2. JamesSavik

    First Light

    By JamesSavik,

    Cape Verde, Oregon
    2019 July 04
    1300 PST
     
    What had once been on old barn was completely unrecognizable. Scientific instruments of all descriptions surrounded a concrete vault called the pit.
     
    The pit contained the equipment to make the experiment work. It also protected the human participants in the experiment with a foot of lead and six feet of hardened concrete. Once it was sealed, it could only be viewed by remote cameras in the control room above.
     
    The vapor of condensation washed over the pit as liquid nitrogen flowed through the pipes bringing the superconducting coils to their optimal temperature.
     
    Dr. Victor Keller looked at the checklist on his clipboard and gave the order, "Begin charging the containment field."
     
    Keller's assistant manning the containment control console Michael Brenner, a 16 year old junior at Cape Verde High, started the program that begin building the magnetic bottle to contain the reaction. After thirty seconds he said, "Mag field is at thirty percent and building."
     
    Bruce Fields, a writer for the small towns paper asked, "Dr. Keller, if you could do this in an old barn, why isn't someone else doing it?"
     
    Keller answered, "They don't want to. This will change the world Bruce and everyone is invested in the old world. We've had the tech to do it since the nineties. The tough part was the superconductors and I built those myself."
     
    Keller looked at his clipboard and said, "Where are we Mikie?"
     
    Brenner replied, "Sixty-two percent and building fast."
     
    Keller said, "OK Sal, start charging the laser capacitors and prepare for a full burn."
     
    The young lady at the Firestarter console began the sequence to bring the laser system to full power and answered curtly, "Charging now. Expect full power in two minutes."
     
    Brenner went down his checklist and said, "Hydrogen injection."
     
    Brenner's son Matt replied, "Injectors to standby. Ready to prime the reactor."
     
    "Lasers at full power on standby."
     
    "Containment field is at 120% and I can run it higher for you if you think we need it."
     
    Brenner said, "This is it. Begin hydrogen injection."
     
    Down in the pit a thin stream of liquid hydrogen gas began flowing past the osmium flow regulator and flashed to gas in the vacuum of the containment field.
     
    Brenner said, "Building... building ok, slow to one third. Partial pressure is nominal. Begin firing the laser."
     
    The lasers light emitting diodes flashed a stream of coherent light at exactly the right wavelength to be absorbed by the hydrogen and the temperature began rising sharply in the reaction chamber.
     
    Brenner said, "Chamber temperature is at 1000 degrees kelvin and rising fast. 1500. Hydrogen is fully ionized. 2000. 3000. We have plasma. Fusion reaction detected. Reaction is coming up, smartly. Cut injection to 5% and hold."
     
    The team watched the purple fire of the reaction in the monitors as humanity's first self sustaining hydrogen fusion reaction took hold. There was not a single word save the hum of machinery.
     
    Brenner said, "F+ 30 seconds and containment is nominal."
     
    Keller said, "It's working. Reaction yield is holding at thirty-two mega-joules per second. Call it, all stations."
     
    "Containment is nominal."
     
    "Lasers off and retracted."
     
    "Injection is off. There's enough plasma to drive the reaction for an hour."
     
    Keller said, "Remember this guys. We were here for history. Thermal transfer to heat sinks.Bruce- if this were a production reactor, we would be using that heat to drive steam turbines."
     
    "OK let it ride. The reaction should last an hour on the fuel in the containment vessel. Then we vent our plasma, write up our results and publish."
     
    And once again, the world changed because a few geeks in a garage figured out how to do what "they" said couldn't be done.
  3. JamesSavik
    Through a Glass, Darkly
     
    General George S. Patton, Jr.
     
    Through the travail of the ages,
    Midst the pomp and toil of war,
    I have fought and strove and perished
    Countless times upon this star.
     
    In the form of many people
    In all panoplies of time
    Have I seen the luring vision
    Of the Victory Maid, sublime.
     
    I have battled for fresh mammoth,
    I have warred for pastures new,
    I have listed to the whispers
    When the race trek instinct grew.
     
    I have known the call to battle
    In each changeless changing shape
    From the high souled voice of conscience
    To the beastly lust for rape.
     
    I have sinned and I have suffered,
    Played the hero and the knave;
    Fought for belly, shame, or country,
    And for each have found a grave.
     
    I cannot name my battles
    For the visions are not clear,
    Yet, I see the twisted faces
    And I feel the rending spear.
     
    Perhaps I stabbed our Savior
    In His sacred helpless side.
    Yet, I've called His name in blessing
    When after times I died.
     
    In the dimness of the shadows
    Where we hairy heathens warred,
    I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
    We used teeth before the sword.
     
    While in later clearer vision
    I can sense the coppery sweat,
    Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
    When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.
     
    Hear the rattle of the harness
    Where the Persian darts bounced clear,
    See their chariots wheel in panic
    From the Hoplite's leveled spear.
     
    See the goal grow monthly longer,
    Reaching for the walls of Tyre.
    Hear the crash of tons of granite,
    Smell the quenchless eastern fire.
     
    Still more clearly as a Roman,
    Can I see the Legion close,
    As our third rank moved in forward
    And the short sword found our foes.
     
    Once again I feel the anguish
    Of that blistering treeless plain
    When the Parthian showered death bolts,
    And our discipline was in vain.
     
    I remember all the suffering
    Of those arrows in my neck.
    Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
    As I died upon my back.
     
    Once again I smell the heat sparks
    When my Flemish plate gave way
    And the lance ripped through my entrails
    As on Crecy's field I lay.
     
    In the windless, blinding stillness
    Of the glittering tropic sea
    I can see the bubbles rising
    Where we set the captives free.
     
    Midst the spume of half a tempest
    I have heard the bulwarks go
    When the crashing, point blank round shot
    Sent destruction to our foe.
     
    I have fought with gun and cutlass
    On the red and slippery deck
    With all Hell aflame within me
    And a rope around my neck.
     
    And still later as a General
    Have I galloped with Murat
    When we laughed at death and numbers
    Trusting in the Emperor's Star.
     
    Till at last our star faded,
    And we shouted to our doom
    Where the sunken road of Ohein
    Closed us in it's quivering gloom.
     
    So but now with Tanks a'clatter
    Have I waddled on the foe
    Belching death at twenty paces,
    By the star shell's ghastly glow.
     
    So as through a glass, and darkly
    The age long strife I see
    Where I fought in many guises,
    Many names, but always me.
     
    And I see not in my blindness
    What the objects were I wrought,
    But as God rules o'er our bickerings
    It was through His will I fought.
     
    So forever in the future,
    Shall I battle as of yore,
    Dying to be born a fighter,
    But to die again, once more.
  4. JamesSavik
    Pelenor City
    Nakajima Corporate Headquarters
     
    The new acting CEO of Nakajima Transstellar Noburo Sato sat at a much diminished table. An entirely new board and corporate officers had been chosen to save the company.
     
    Sato had arrived at the meeting as the director of Nakajima Shipyards. His distance from anything even remotely untoward in the recent hostilities had propelled him to the CEO’s chair; now one of the hottest seats in the Alliance.
     
    Sato asked the new Chief Financial Officer Naomi Moto, “Moto-san, what is our financial condition?”
     
    Moto said, “The answer to that is chaos. It will be weeks before we know how much inventory was plundered by the deserters. Our stock and assets off world were frozen when our former leaders seceded from the Alliance. Whether we get that back or not we won’t know until the courts rule. Another positive is that all of our facilities are intact and our reserves of precious metals are quite extensive. While we are at the mercy of Alliance authorities, we are not so badly hurt.”
     
    Sato asked, “What do we know about the Governor-General assigned to Pelenor?”
     
    Lucas Williams, an impossibly young man for the position of Director of Corporate Security and Intelligence answered, “Admiral Samuel Stewart is a highly regarded career naval officer. He is from the province of Oregon in the North American Federation. He served on the Board of Inquiry that actually triggered the war. He has gained a great deal of notoriety in the Alliance press for his successful actions during the war and is, by all accounts, a man of great integrity. He is also known to be almost aggressively apolitical. Our analysts believe that he will be more of a Lincoln than a Grant.”
     
    Sato asked, “I’m sorry but I missed the reference.”
     
    Williams said, “We are in almost exactly the same position as the Confederacy after the American Civil War in the 19th Century. President Lincoln’s stated policy toward the Reconstruction of the Southern States was with malice towards none and charity for all. Unfortunately Lincoln was assassinated before his plans could be implemented and the Reconstruction of the South was mired in corruption and opportunism that marred the legacies of Lincoln’s successors and crippled the Southern states for decades.”
     
    “I think we got lucky with the appointment of Stewart. He is honest and his appointment is a good indication that the Alliance is more interested in reconciliation than vengeance.”
  5. JamesSavik

    Of Things To Come...

    By JamesSavik,

    When the Alliance Civil War broke out 2549, the giant TranStellar corporations located in the Corporate Sector seceded from the Alliance and formed the Consolidated Federation (commonly called the ConFed). The ConFed consisted of five huge TransStellar corporations: Nakajima, MilTech, Venture, предприятие (Enterprise) and Gradient plus hundreds of smaller subsidiaries located in the sector. Those five corporations alone accounted for almost thirty percent of the Alliance GNP. In the beginning they had a small edge in technology but that edge was fleeting.
     
    The Corporate War took four long years of hard, bitter fighting. When it started neither side was ready for hostilities. Caught by surprise, both militaries struggled to adjust. The fighting was confused and sporadic. The two fleets fought a series of fierce, sharp inconclusive engagements between cruisers and destroyers.
     
    When the Alliance was able to bring their new battle cruisers and carriers into the fight, the ConFed fleet was thrown back and finally destroyed at the Battle of Pelenor.
     
    Historically the Corporate War was not much to brag about militarily on either side. At first it was a comedy of errors. Then it became a drama of attrition. Finally the weight of metal decided the matter.
     
    The Corporate War wasn’t that interesting compared to what happened afterwards. The Alliance liberated millions of genetically engineered slaves. That’s when things got interesting.
  6. JamesSavik
    It has come to my attention that some of you have never heard of the Bloodhound Gang. This is not acceptable.
     
    Prepare to laugh your ass completely off. You might want to turn it up.
     


     


     
    Check them out on YouTube.
     
    Other notable titles are:
     
    Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
     
    and
     
    Kiss Me Where It Smells Funny
  7. JamesSavik
    Spring Break 1983
     
    Three college kids facing serious drug charges have a chance to clear their records.
     
    All they have to do is drive to Houston, pick up a load of drugs from some serious bad boys and, deliver them to the #1 guy in their college town.
     
    Sounds simple. Living through it might get complicated.
     
    Drive fast, run smart or die badly.
     

    Staring:
     
    JD

     
    Chris & Cole

     

    "Black Beauty"
     

    Coming to GA August 2015.
  8. JamesSavik
    The Lessons of Steel


     


    Steel has some very profound lessons to teach.


     

    It is hard and cold sometimes but, if you learn these lessons, they will serve you well.


     

    Steel is not magic.


     

    It's work is not accomplished overnight.


     

    It takes commitment and continuous, sustained effort to make that magic happen.


     

    In the beginning there will be pain. You will be sore and want to quit but, if you persevere, there are rewards.


     

    It won't happen overnight, over a week or even a month.


     

    With every repetition, the steel makes you stronger inside and out.


     

    Sometimes your muscles will feel like they are on fire. That's the ante for the bet you are making on yourself.


     

    That is who you are competing with- no one else. You are competing with the urge to skip a set, or a day or a week.


     

    You are competing with the voice inside that asks isn't this enough?


     

    You are competing against the inertia of mediocrity.


     

    You are competing against all your of your failures and insecurities that make you feel small and weak.


     

    If you can surpass your SELF, then you become master of your SELF. This is something far too many people never accomplish.


     

    The reward is confidence. The sure and certain knowledge that you can push yourself to the edge of your physical ability and beyond.


     

    You will push yourself to the very edge and find that it is not a barrier- just a new horizon.


  10. JamesSavik
    Misfit KId
    I dream frequently, sometimes they come out funny
    I go through insanity, all they want is money
    All these parties they get so habitual, the same sea of faces
    Always pushin', always pullin', always in the races

    I get cooled out
    I get the come ons
    I get rumbled
    I get crumbled, yeah

    I'm the American misfit kid
    I'm still wonderin' what I did
    I'm stiletto, so so sharp and I'm willin' to cut
    Sometimes nebulous, well I'm ready to strut
    Lost and frantic, new age romantic, I'm checkin' out the race
    I never cared about what it meant always loved disgrace

    I get rhythm
    I get cornflakes
    I get fast love
    I get wasted, yeah

    I'm the American misfit kid
    Still wonderin' what I did
    I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride
    (I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride)

    I dream frequently, sometimes they come out funny, ha
    I live with absurdity, it's always warm and runny
    And all these parties they get so ritual lonely hearts and aces
    Always pushin', always pullin', always in the races

    I get cooled out
    I get the come ons
    I get rumbled
    I get crumbled, yeah
    I'm the American misfit kid
    I'm still wonderin' what I did
    I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride
    I'm the American misfit kid
    I'm still wonderin' what I did
    I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride

    That's right
    I get cooled out
    I get the come ons
    I get rumbled
    I get crumbled
    I get cornflakes, fast love, wasted
    I get cornflakes, fast love, wasted





    Dangerous Type

    can i touch you are you out of touch
    i guess i never noticed that much
    geranium lover i'm live on your wire
    come and take me who ever you are
    he's a lot like you
    the dangerous type
    he's a lot like you
    come on and hold me tight
    inside angel always upset
    keep on forgetting that we ever met
    can i bring you out in the light
    my curiosity's got me tonight
    the museum director's with their high shaking heads
    they kick white shadows until they play dead
    they want to crack your crossword smile
    can i take you out for a while
  12. JamesSavik
    In 1983 this cartoon lampooning Jerry Falwell appeared in Hustler triggering a long running legal case1.

     
    Just for your edification, I thought I would post a copy of it here. For historical purposes of course.
     
    As for Jerry Falwell, as of this hour, the degenerate culture-war criminal remains stone cold dead.
     
    For those of you that grew up after the AIDS apocalypse, Jerry Falwell was the man most responsible for the Moral Majority movement that swept Reagan into power in the eighties and has kept the most radical of the Rights worst elements in power ever since. Though the Moral Majority did not survive the eighties, its off shoots became powerful leaders, Super-PACs and lobbies. While publically championing life (anti-abortion) and family, these organizations have consistently pushed the interest of the military-industrial complex, big finance and corporate interests.
     
    The Moral Majority gave rise to creatures like Pat Buchanan who coined the term Culture War and Mike Huckabee who act as shills for the very worst elements of this movement.
     
    Take heart- the Right is splitting. It is fragmenting into several blocks: social conservatives who want to role the culture back to white, Christian 1950. Libertarians who are very concerned at the erosion of traditional Constitutional protections. Fiscal conservatives who are looking at the books and asking where the fuck is our money!
     
    No Rainbow children. It's not safe to look to the right. Probably won't be until the current generation of grandstanding assholes drop dead. However- a new Right will form over the next several years. Where it lands will have to be more moderate and more in line with the thinking of the country because the established GOP/Republican brand just ain't selling. There are all sorts of reasons for that, but the big one is they are completely out of step with the country while running candidates that are so Far Right even their base are nervous about them.
     
    Stay tuned. This is getting interesting. It's about time for someone to
    themself. 
     
    foot fetish notes______________________________
     
    1- Hustler Magazine VS Falwell
  13. JamesSavik

    that 70s trilogy

    By JamesSavik,

    My 70s trilogy is finally complete and it's all hosted here at gayauthors.org
     
    It follows a small group of friends from Mississippi that learn that we need each other, how to be friends and lift each other up.
     
    We weren't saints and all of us got lost along the way at some point. Only together did we find our way.
     

     
     
    the Place in Between
     
    Getting to the Happily Ever After
     
    Nightfall
     

  14. JamesSavik

    A Glimpse of Normal

    By JamesSavik,

    A Glimpse of Normal
     
    I showed up for summer football practice on my bike at the appointed time of 7am in August my 8th grade year.
     
    August is a blow torch here in Mississippi. It's not cool in the mornings. It's just less hot.
     
    I was wearing my Red team jersey that I had earned the year before. I was supposed to be on the 8-9th grade starting team but the redneck coach wasn't having any of that. There was no use arguing with him. He just wasn't going to have a faggot on his team and that was final.
     
    The coach of the blue team was very glad to have me. It pissed me off. I had earned at least a shot at the red team. Hell, I had won the jersey. It just wasn't going to happen because a shitty redneck had the power to say no. Story of my life.
     
    The blue team wasn't bad. They were mostly eight graders like me but they weren't as big or fast as me- and none of them were as angry. I think I scarred some of them. I had played with most of the kids before. The good ones were on the red team and I was angry and humiliated by my demotion.
     
    There was a new kid at quarterback and I could tell right away he was very good. He wasn't big but he was quick and superbly coordinated and, had striking good looks.
     
    We didn't do any training in pads for the first few days. We just wore shoulder pads and helmets and did non-contact drills designed to sweat the summer out of you.
     
    I made it a point to get to know Pat. His father was an Air Force officer who had married his Danish mother in Europe. Pat was shy and soft spoken but I could tell that he was really smart. He was tall and slightly built with sparkling blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair.
     
    As training continued, we got our playbooks and I got a blue jersey with number 44 on it. At least I got to keep my number. After a week or so we finally put on full pads and got some contact.
     
    The coaches were planning on running a 4-3 defense and penciled me in as the strong side linebacker. I would line up across the line from the offensive tackle on the tight end side of the line most of the time. I had to learn a lot about reading the offense and moving into the correct position depending on how they lined up.
     
    Our offense was basically the I formation with a few wrinkles. One of the best wrinkles was that we had a competent quarterback in Pat. He moved with a smooth grace that intrigued me. There was just one problem: the left side of the offensive line was simply too small. They couldn't block me and I could have really roughed up Pat. Oh- I enjoyed the contact but I would just wrap him up. I had no intention of hurting the kid. He was good and... real easy to look at.
     
    After practice one day after Pat had taken a beating from some of the other players I asked our coach about the possibility of me playing left tackle. I didn't like playing on the offensive line. It could get really ugly in there but, if we were going to be any good, we had to protect our quarterback.
     
    I traded in my number 44 for a 77 and started playing both ways. I became Pat's bodyguard.
     
    The left tackle on the offensive line is a very critical position. There's no glamor involved at all. The down linemen get serious contact every play. Left tackle is critical for two reason. First, he protects the quarterbacks blind side where he is most vulnerable. Miss too many of those blocks and your QB will probably end up getting hurt. The second reason the left tackle is critical is that without his block, the offense can't run effectively in that direction. It's a position that no one notices unless you screw up.
     
    Maybe I had the beginnings of a crush on Pat. OK- cut the crap. I did have a crush on Pat. I was in a position to protect him and, I liked it. When he found out that he could trust me to handle the left side, that gave him the confidence he needed to focus on running the plays and not worrying about getting smacked.
     
    My dad was pissed at me but that was nothing new. He accused me of lying to him about being on the red team. I told him that they were overloaded at linebacker. I couldn't tell him that Coach Redneck didn't want me. At least on the blue team I was on the field.
     
    At this point, normal kids would have invited Pat to come over to his house. That was something I didn't dare do because of the way my parents were acting. If I acted friendly toward anybody, they were suspicious and angry.
     
    Pat beat me to the punch. He invited me home for lunch and a rest in between our morning and afternoon practices. After a shower and a quick change, his mother picked us up and took us to his house. Pat introduced me as his bodyguard.
     
    Pat's mom was simply awesome. She was very pretty and had a sexy European accent. If I had been str8, I would have been crushing on her because she definitely had it going on. Maybe I'd crush on her anyway.
     

     
    She took us home and fed us a light lunch of soup and sandwiches. She treated me like a normal kid and I loved it. When we had eaten we went in Pat's room, sat in two bean bags on the floor and watched TV, laughed and napped.
     
    It was over all too soon. We had to go back to practice at three in the heat of the day.
     
    I don't think they even knew how much I wished that I could just go home with them and stay. It was rare for me to have that moment of bliss in the chaos storm I was living in. The usual suspects teased- Jimmy has a new boyfriend. That was OK. I'd knock the snot out of at the next opportunity.
     
    It became our routine. We would go to Pat's house in the middle of the day and rest up for afternoon practice. Pat's mom, Mona, would always be just so nice and hug us both when we left.
     
    Our friendship grew and school and football season started. The blue team started winning.
     
    Pat could run the option better than any eighth grader I've ever seen. He wasn't a bad passer either. With me protecting his blind side and opening holes, our offense was a machine. We didn't have a ton of long plays but we would almost always get four to seven yards. We were playing ball control and it was working. Our defense was just as nasty as it had been the year before. With our offense holding the ball on long drives and scoring, it was much easier to play defense.
     
    Winning solves a lot of problems. Other kids that were not thrilled about having a gay guy on their team could live with it when we were successful. The red team under Coach Redneck was winless. HAA!
     
    Even my Dad was impressed to see me playing both ways. It's the most fun I ever had playing.
     
    We finished the year 8-0-1. It's the best record that any of the jr. high teams at Oak Hill had managed since the fifties and much of it was because of a shy, handsome quarterback and the left tackle that didn't let anyone get near him.
     
    All was well until one day in algebra we were introduced to something horrible called quadratic equations. Equations weren't so bad, but to my 8th grade mathematical ability, the quadratic variety might as well have had horns and hooves.
     
    We had these huge worksheets with 32 problems to do. I fought, I struggled and I sweat bullets but I just couldn't make them work. Finally I gave up and called Pat.
     
    Pat explained the FOIL method better in three minutes than the teacher had all week. I did a couple of problems and BINGO- it made sense. We talked for another minute. I said, "Thanks for the help Pat, you're the man." Then I hung up.
     
    My dad had been listening to the conversation. He marched in and slapped me hard.
     
    "So he's your man huh? I told you I'm not having that!"
     
    "No dad, we're just friend."
     
    *Slap*
     
    "Liar. You disgust me you lying little faggot."
     
    *Slap*
     
    "You are never to see or speak to him again. Is that understood?"
     
    "No. He's my friend."
     
    *Slap*
     
    "Defy me, you little shit..."
     
    I didn't see the punch coming. It was hard and fast and it knocked me into a bookcase.
     
    By this time my Mom was there but as usual she was pretty useless. She just cried but Dad didn't take it any further. I think he knew he blown a fuse and had taken it way too far.
     
    I think it hurt Pat's feelings that I never invited him home. I told him that things weren't good there. When I showed up all bruised and battered after one of my dad's rages, I think he understood.
     
    When school ended my parents sent me to a private school and I lost track of the forbidden Pat. I doubt that he ever knew how much I loved him and his Mom and how much I treasured the rare glimpses of normalcy that they provided me.
     
    Sometimes when I have a particularity good dream, Pat and I are napping on his bean bags under a cool ceiling fan, innocent with no horrible secrets hanging over us.
  15. JamesSavik
    The answer is being stuck between a bud and a bro.
     
    There's something you might not know about Southern culture. In some ways we are almost Arabic.
     
    Once we make friends, there's very little that can change that. We're loyal to an absolute fault even when it hurts and goes way past making any sense. Why sure Butch, I'll follow you over that cliff.
     

     
    There is one place that I absolutely hate to be: in between people I care about in a controversy.
     
    I literally don't know how to handle it. Stay out of it and hope it gets better? Take sides? GAH!
     
    I know how electrons interact in semi-conductors but, when it comes to how people bounce off of each other, that's an equation I haven't derived yet.
     
    Being around the rooms of a 12 step program tells me to let it go and accept it.
     
    I'd rather grab them by the ears and bonk their hard heads together but that wouldn't work.
     
    I have to admit that you've both got a point. Why not meet in the middle?
     
    Whatever. I'm still there.
     
    Now. WTF is this about a cliff!?
  16. JamesSavik
    A New Life by the Eggman
     
    Preston O'brien and his Mother have relocated from Texas to Malibu, CA. For a gay kid from Texas, it is a whole New Life. This story has been around for some time. It is a great slice of life in Southern California in the nineties. It gives hope to those of us that live in the sticks that somewhere there might be a new life for them too.
     
    Bonus:
     
    the Quarry by Driver
     
    This is Driver at his best. It introduces a huge cast of characters and delves deeply into life in the seventies. It is addictive and beautiful and terrible all at the same time. It is the first online story that I found that wasn't text porn. It gave birth to a whole series of spin offs called Stories from the Quarry.
     
    Courage and Passion
     
    Freethinker is an artist. His canvas is words and his works are a thing of beauty. His stories are like peanuts. Once you start, you can't stop and- you will be richer for the experience.
  17. JamesSavik
    Brian & Pete by Dewey
     
    Once upon a time there were two boys on the West coast. Their names were Brian and Pete and they fell in love. Then things got complicated by reality.
     
    This is the story that broke through my shell and got me started writing. It did me a lot of good because through the struggles of these brave and noble kids, I could see myself differently.
     
    It is a beautiful thing but I warn you: it hurts. Have some time on your hands and a box of Kleenex handy.
     
    This is one of the real classics of the genre.
  18. JamesSavik
    Falling Off A Log by Driver
     
    If you have never read this story, it's so good it hurts a little.
     
    Joey and Scott are two average kids. They aren't athletes, they are so uncoordinated they are a little dangerous and they aren't brains. What makes them special is that Joey can play the electric guitar, Scott can sing and they love each other like brothers. They are both very talented and together they are something very special.
     
    The boys do a lot of jamming and growing up.
     
    Typical of Driver's work, it is touching, beautiful, innocent and a whole lot of fun.
     
    Do yourself a favor: click the link and enjoy!
  19. JamesSavik
    My mom was a little girl during the Great Depression. In addition to all that, she grew up in a tiny town in the Mississippi Delta.
     
    If the rest of the country was broke, the Delta was like Oh my God, how could they get any poorer poor.
     
    They lived on what they could grow on their farm and had precious little extra.
     
    One of my mom's best pal's was a big black cat named Kitty Kay-O. Back in those days cats weren't that common in those parts. Kay-o was a prized mouser and her kittens were big, good natured cats. Everyone wanted one of her kittens to keep the mice and rats out of their barns.
     
    One of their neighbors asked my grandmother if she could have one of Kay-O's latest litter.
     
    My grandmother, everyone called her Joie (pronounced Joey- for Johanna), told her neighbor, "We need to wait until they are big enough to eat." She left off a key clause: on their own.
     
    If you know kittens, they aren't ready to leave their mama cats until they can eat on their own- usually 6-8 weeks.
     
    If you don't know cats, and that clause is missing, you could draw some rather awkward conclusions.
     
    Some time later Joie was mortified to learn that the talk of the town was that cats were on her menu!
     
    Joie was an extraordinary woman. So Gallic, she would have fit right in on a Parisian Avenue right down to her shrug. She was short, dark and with a command presence that any Admiral or General could envy. She was born in the late 1880s and passed away in 1984. She was the glue and bone that kept the family together and thriving regardless of poverty, disease, tragedy and triumph. She was Cajun- and knew her family history all the way back to her ancestor that came to New Orleans as a Casquett girl.
     
    In her living memory she heard the old ones tell about the day that half the family died at Shiloh in a place called the Hornet's Nest. She remembered Yellow Fever wiping out whole villages. She saw the World Wars and the Moon Landings. I interviewed her many times as a living witness to the history I was learning in school.
     
    What we grandchildren only discovered years after her passing, she told us all: you are my favorite- don't tell the others.
     
    It worked. She made us all feel pretty special.
  20. JamesSavik

    A Tekkies Christmas

    By JamesSavik,

    A Tekkies Christmas
     
    Every Christmas it seems the weather is dreary,
    And I gets calls from my friends, their minds bleary,
    They buy laptops and games and PCs for their young,
    But getting it all going can be a bit high strung.
     
    So I go about town in the dead of night,
    With my shiny tools and flashlight so bright,
    To help those poor souls to get things working
    Since with Santa's elves, there can be no shirking.
     
    Off to see Bill and Cheryl to get a lap top loaded,
    Off to see Kim and Doug to get a playstation playing,
    Off to see Tam and Jim to make Barbie's Dreamhouse live,
    Off to make Sarah and Kit's PC work- I can't be staying.
     
    Tekkies you see we live by a code
    On Christmas Eve night, our phones explode,
    On pain of making the naughty list,
    In Santa's army we all enlist,
    With batteries in pockets and screwdrivers galore,
    We make the technology work that you adore.
     
    On this one night we work for free.
    We don't charge by the hour or take a flat fee.
    On this one night, we just do it for fun,
    With a labor of love, some Christmas magic is spun.
  21. JamesSavik

    A Change in Direction

    By JamesSavik,

    My writing has never been what I would call really inspired. It has been fun, cathartic on occasion and sometimes I'll come up with something I'm really proud of.
     
    In the past I've written stories with conspicuous drinking and drug use. As I was in active addiction for a lot of my life, that's my experience, I couldn't write normal kids playing baseball and living in non-dysfunctional families. I wouldn't know where to start.
     
    The feedback that I've gotten from Redemption is one that has really been gratifying and humbling. I think I REALLY hit a nerve with it.
     
    Going forward, I am going to address recovery. Specifically, I'm going to address the issues that young GLBT people face in recovery.

    Like the conflict between the 12 step higher power and the negative experience with religion many GLBT people have.
    Like the Lambda AA/NA groups that make many young people feel like a mackerel in a shark tank.
    Like going to a 12 step program and encountering homophobia

     
    Judging from what I've been hearing from people about Redemption, there is a lot of interest there and, maybe it can do some good.
  22. JamesSavik
    See this little guy? He's a trilobite. His family of marine arthropods first appeared in the early Cambrian era (520 My). They formed the class Trilobita and flourished in all the worlds oceans. They flourished for millions and millions of years in all the worlds oceans. There were a dizzying variety of trilobites- numerous species and sub-species that adapted and specialized in their local environments.
     
    Suddenly at the Permian extinctions, they were gone. One of the most successful marine arthropods in fossil record was gone almost over night.
     
    Perhaps there's a lesson for us to learn from the humble trilobite. Things can go bad enough to press you to extinction if you can not improvise, adapt and survive.
  23. JamesSavik
    In Northern California, Lava Beds is a rugged beauty created by the Medicine Lake Shield volcano.
     

     
    The landscape is covered in basalt- a thick, dark lava and many features like hundreds of lava tubes and vents.
     

     

     

     

     
    If you ever get a chance, it is well worth a look.
  24. JamesSavik
    In the late seventies the new wave landed on our shores. God knows what it meant but we weren't into philosophy.
     
    lost and frantic
    new age romantic
    checking out the race
    never cared about what it meant
     
    We were wanted something cool to listen to and the Cars delivered.
     
     
     


     
     
     
    "Misfit Kid"
     

    i dream frequently
    sometimes they come out funny
    i go through insanity
    all they want is money
    all these parties get so habitual
    the same sea of faces
    always pushing, always pulling
    always in the races
     
    i get cooled out
    i get the come ons
    i get rumbled
    i get crumbled
     
    [Chorus:]
    i'm the American misfit kid
    still wondering what I did
     
    i'm on the inside taking a fast ride
    i'm stiletto so
    so sharp and I'm willing to cut
    sometimes nebulous
    I'm ready to strut
    lost and frantic
    new age romantic
    checking out the race
    never cared about what it meant
    always loved disgrace
     
    i get rhythm
    i get Cornflakes
    i get fast love
    i get wasted
     
    [Chorus]
     
    i dream frequently
    sometimes they come out funny
    i live with absurdity
    always warm and runny
    all these parties get so ritual
    lonely hearts and aces
    always pushing, always pulling
    always in the races
     
    [Chorus]
  25. JamesSavik
    Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:
     
    - Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
    - Why the early bird gets the worm;
    - Life isn't always fair;
    - And maybe it was my fault.
     
    Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).
     
    His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but
    overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy
    charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
     
    Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.
     
    It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.
     
    Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.
     
    Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.
     
    Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to
    realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her
    lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
     
    Common Sense was preceded in death,
    -by his parents, Truth and Trust,
    -by his wife, Discretion,
    -by his daughter, Responsibility,
    -and by his son, Reason.
     
    He is survived by his 5 stepbrothers;
    - I Know My Rights
    - I Want It Now
    - Someone Else Is To Blame
    - I'm A Victim
    - Pay me for Doing Nothing
     
    Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone
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