Dreams Of A Tired Man

Sitting there, alone on a bench at the far edge of the boards, he liked to stare out into the endlessness of the cloudy shores. He would look across barren sands to the place where the ocean should be. An impenetrable fog obscuring all visual evidence of the aquatic world. He would imagine the scene extending out not just in front, but enveloping him on all sides. A speck of life in a circle of flat sand and thick fog. With nothing around him save for the gentle roar of waves and the intermittent cries of seagulls. Devoid of the bustling noise and rush of life. Images of sailing these enshrouded waters or floating gracefully through the air, disappearing into the faded nothingness, flitter briefly through his head. It's in this barren landscape of dreams that he is truly happy, if only for a moment.

The Order: A Wonderful Shitshow

So I just finished watching season one of The Order on Netflix and boy do I have a lot to say.

I specifically put it on BECAUSE it looked cheesy and ham-fisted, but also mildly interesting enough to be watchable as I fell asleep. I ended up riding this roller-coaster of ridiculous plot twists and superbly unaware dialogue all night.

First of all, every single character in this show is brain dead. It's forgivable for most of the cast because they're supposed to be college freshmen and sophomores. Kids are dumb. That is something I can believe. What I can't believe is how the same gullibility and obliviousness extends to even the elder and wiser characters. I found myself constantly yelling, "You're in your forties! How are you just as dumb as these 18 years olds!" to the older cast. Even better is when the students are in their actual classes. Suddenly Mr. Can't Do Basic Math is rolling up into ethics class like Socrates for his morning lecture. He's spouting off highly intelligent responses to his professors on the fly. Then once out of class, continues being his mindless self.

The core of the show is about secret societies yet not one person has even the slightest modicum of discretion. They are publicly, loudly talking about secret supernatural rituals and shit. And when I say publicly, I don't just mean outside, in a semi-secluded spot. I mean two people screaming back and forth to each other about hearing the sound of magic and going to the temple. Meanwhile there's a guy sat right between them on his laptop hearing every word. As they slam the door on their way out of that scene, you can see him start to look over just before the camera cut.

LIKE LOOK AT THEM! They're openly talking about magic and secret temples with mad people sitting not 3 feet away.

It's insane how bad everyone is at pretending to be coy. Their attempts at coded speech that sounds like normal conversation is laughable. And it's not the actor's fault. In fact, I loved most of the cast. I think they did the best with what they were given. It was the script that was cringe-worthy. Idk how the actors were able to deliver those lines as well as they did. And it was also the directing. As I've already stated, there were absolutely too many scenes of people talking about things they shouldn't talk about in places they shouldn't talk about them. Everything was just a bit too on the nose. And characters you're supposed to sympathize with at some level just come off as total, sociopathic assholes.

So the main character kind of looks like a hybrid between my friend Jeff and Kevin Bacon. He's a textbook Mary-sue. He comes from nothing, is nobody, and yet is also the most everything person. He's smarter academically, street-wise, stronger, nobler, more charismatic, more moral, more selfless, more diven, etc than anyone else. He's the magical-realism version of Luke Skywalker.

Somehow, despite all that, I liked the kid. I empathized with his crazy predicaments. I yelled at him constantly for being a blind idiot. I was genuinely surprised by words and decisions. He was just a lot of fun, even if his character was wholly unbelievable.

Despite it's constant failings, the show is uncannily self-aware at times. It pokes fun at itself. It even vocalizes many of the criticisms I've stated in its own dialogue. There are many legitimate payoffs. The bulk of the show lowered my expectations, making those payoffs stand out that much more.

Overall I'd say it's a mix of Supernatural, Twilight, The Magicians (TV series), and 90210. If that's your bag, you're going to have fun with this show. It's enjoyably bad when it's bad, interesting enough when it's good, and surprisingly accurate at times when displaying how actual college students would act.

The characters are distinctive and likable. Even the bad ones. The season had a solid story arc. With the MC discovering a hidden world while also establishing the setting of that world. Then coalescing into a final goal and a need to prevent it.

I enjoyed the art direction, the wardrobe, and the sets. Some shots looked good enough to be framed on my wall. The segments on ethics felt a bit shoe-horned, but not overly pandering.

The female lead was absolutely too charming. I loved her almost immediately. The scenes where you can tell she believes and admires her mentors as they just use her were heartbreaking. Those scenes especially messed me up because she exuded this naive, hopeful desire to be praised by those she looks up to so incredibly well. Like watching a beaming child show off their perfect report card to a parent that couldn't care less.

The best friend was the kind of kid you instantly like. The harmless, goofy idiot. A bit tropey, but honestly that goes for the rest of the cast. Despite that, they owned their parts. I seriously can't give enough praise to the actors for keeping a straight face through some of these lines.

Before I go, I will leave you with this series of pictures I feel best describe the show and a rating of a jar of pickle spears.

And I Still Love You

You treated me like I was less than human. You lied to me constantly. You told me millions of things about yourself while still hiding so much away. You kept me around like a crutch to be leaned on, a tool to be used, a blanket of reassurance.
 You told me I was wrong for suspecting this all along. You told me you were nothing but open and honest. You said I was crazy for thinking otherwise; and I believed you. Not just because I wanted to believe you, but because I have a history of mental illness.
 You knew this. You knew what a sensitive issue it was for me. You knew how much I trusted you and valued your opinion. You knew this and you turned it into a weapon. You made me doubt my own thoughts and emotions. You made me afraid. Of myself, and of unintentionally hurting you. You invalidated my thoughts and kept me around as a pet.

I gave everything I had to you. You were the center of my universe. Simply being next to you was more than I could ever hope for. I've never felt such contentment. love, or happiness before or since.

And when I ended it, you doubled down on your lies. Not even when the pin of reality came down, and popped the idyllic bubble I was living in, did you finally admit the truth. You just lied more. Manipulated more. Gaslighted more.

My world came crashing down around me and you told me it was all in my head. You made it sound like I could never deserve someone as amazing as you. That you kept me around out of pity. You started acting like being with me was an act of charity and you should be awarded for your saintly actions.

You told me I was insane. That I needed help. That you were worried about me. You made it sound so convincing. I wanted to believe you. I was ready to accept lunacy if that meant what we had was real. You almost had me believing you. After all, I must be insane if while I see you doing all of this to me, I still love you. In spite of the overwhelming evidence of your abuse and my need to leave, I still loved you. Can you understand the pain of pouring every bit of your love into someone, only to hear them respond that they've never felt so empty?

Years and years pass. I saw a therapist for a while. She assured me that I acted rationally, have not been a danger to anyone or myself.

I knew all that already.

Yet part of me still hoped I was crazy. I wanted it. At least then she could still be the girl I saw her as. Not the girl who moved on in less than a day, the emotional abuser, the compulsive liar, the serial cheater, the girl who destroyed my life...




I only wish that after all this time, and everything you've done, that I could just please stop loving you.

The Hunger

I used to have feelings
but after enough pain
I acquired a hunger

It began simple enough
I swallowed my hatred
Drank my despair
Gnawed on my hurt

When those were all gone I devoured my joy
my passion
my excitement

I then turned my sights outward and consumed television shows
I ripped through comics
Tore apart films

I shredded into books
Masticated bits of ideas and dreams falling from my gnarled, drooling lips

But the hunger never abated. The constant flow of detritus only staved it off temporarily. It always returned with more force. I was starving for something to fill the evergrowing pangs inside me. I ate of the hard sciences, the soft sciences, mathematics, geometry, algebra, calculus, particle physics, astrology, chemistry, geometrodynamics... but the void only deepened within me.

I bit savagely into the arts. Choked at the unchewed musical meat I forced down my throat. I hunted them down and took more than my fill. I vomited upon paper and scarfed it back down. I sliced steaks out of my imagination. Minced my hopes, and grated my dreams.

I cut into my friends. First, one at a time. Then whole swarms of them. My mouth a swirling vortex of blades. I consumed them all. Then my world, the light, the darkness, even the nothingness that was left behind until there was naught left but me and my hunger.

Cold

"The universe is a cold, dark place. Other than a few minor aberrations, everything is enshrouded in a freezing blackness. Cold is the most powerful force in existence, and I have taken it upon myself to be it's loyal servant. It's waiting for us at the end. We are pulled inexorably toward it. We can huddle in fear by the firelight for only so long. All things are destined to end; all fires to fade. When the stars are extinguished and life fades in a whisper, only cold will remain."

"The first was Nadine. I met her at a bar. She was a chef. As a chemist myself, we had much to talk about. We flirted as we drank. I explained the chemical reactions of her work. I introduced ideas to her which blended our two fields together. She was fascinated. Before long, she was mine. I took her home that night. Offered another drink and insinuated even more. She was so passionate. Lovely, really. It made it easier. She undressed herself as the drugs took effect. I dragged her body into the basement and tied her to a chair. I listened to Hildegarde as I prepared everything and waited for her to awaken."

"After a few hours, consciousness finally returned to the dark-haired girl and we could begin. She did as I knew she would. (As they all do.) Pleading, crying, screaming. So horribly unattractive. I've never felt such a clear, utter revulsion for another human being as I did then. I calmly explained through her ravings what the night had in store for her. We were going to perform an experiment. Me and her. She would be my subject, and I the good doctor. What were we supposed to learn from the experiment? Who knows! This was pure science for science's sake. Sometimes you just need to throw something at the wall and see what sticks. In my hands, I cradled a smooth, metal canister. On the table by the chair, where my subject awaited, was a hammer. Inside the gleaming canister, was liquid nitrogen. The experiment was simple. I would pour small amounts of the liquid gas over parts of her body, smash those bits with a hammer, and see how she reacts."

"I started with her feet, then her hands, attempting to move slowly as to keep the subject awake and alive as long as possible. It didn't work. 15 minutes in and she already lost consciousness. What a waste. I froze the rest of her body, smashed it up, and threw it into the river. Nothing identifiable as human remained."

The next subject was a little younger. The name on her driver's licence was Annalee. I found her waiting at a bus stop. There was a severe snowstorm forecast for that night. Maybe that was the reason for my sudden passionate inspiration, the coming wave of cold. It was late and she was alone, so I just took her. I proposed a new experiment this time. I confess, I did torture her a little beforehand. Mentally, of course! I'm not some kind of monster. I asked if she ever had a major surgery to which she nodded no. Then I explained how the doctors put you under before a major surgery. There are a mixture of active components in anesthesia that are used to three different effects: they make you unaware, they make you immobile, and they numb your body. Sometimes one or more doesn't work. There are countless stories of patients watching the doctors as they slice into their immobile bodies. Quite interesting, wouldn't you say? Well no bother, tonight we won't be worrying about analgesia."

"I took her limp body outside. I drove her into a large, isolated field. I laid her on the ground. I stood over her, talking to her, as the first flakes began to fall. Then I simply stood. And waited. And watched as she was slowly buried alive. She was aware and she could feel. I knew that. I liked the peaceful dignity of her death. I stayed, silently watching, until her body was entirely covered. I wondered what she might be thinking. I tried to imagine myself as her. Lying on the ground, unable to move, cold slowly entering my body like a gentle lover. Death watching from the periphery. Unseen like a pervert in the night. Waiting for Cold to fully penetrate me before it took me into its eternal arms. I gave her a good death. A profound death."

"And that brings us to you, Mark. My third. My most elaborate experiment, no... tribute the god of freezing blackness. The ender of all things. The final form of the universe itself. You shall by my first truly ritualistic offering. I see now. I was but a child in my first act. Curious and naive. Then a teen in my second. It was romantic, impassioned. But now I emerge reborn. Coldness has embed itself into every fiber of my being. I truly understand now. For this, your death, is my most elaborate. After the first two I put my mind to work. The others were trite, unoriginal. That isn't what you offer to a god. And this, the ultimate god, deserves so much more. Something never done before. Something nearly impossible in its execution. And I've done it. Here, let me take of your blindfold so you can appreciate the lengths I've gone to. But first..."

The sound of a button being pushed and machinery moving. The man, lying on the floor at first, feels himself being lifted feet first into the air. From out of the darkness, he feels a tug at the back of his head and his vision is filled with a blinding light.

"I would ask you what your thoughts are, but I've learned my lesson. The duct tape is staying over your mouth. I won't have your sacrilegious, callow utterings spoil the grandness of this act. Just look, Mark, even as the victim you should be able appreciate the scale of what I've accomplished."

From his position dangling in the air. Mark sees the doctor standing by a control panel. The doctor's appearance is clean and genial. He's wearing a lab coat, non-slip shoes, small gold-rimmed glasses, and white latex gloves. He seems glad and proud. They are in a large room. A mix between laboratory and warehouse. Directly beneath Mark is a massive vat of clear and perfectly still liquid. All surfaces are metallic and spotless.

"You couldn't begin to imagine the lengths I had to go through to set all this up. The idea was divine inspiration, but work a labor like no other. You see, the idea came about when I was trying to figure out a way to entrap someone within ice. I didn't want to put them in water then drop the temperature because then the person would also be frozen. I wanted the person to be alive in the ice. I also didn't want to trap them in a room of ice or cover them in ice shavings. I wanted to submerge someone in water, then have the water instantly freeze around them. It took me a while but I eventually came up with a theory. The theory was sound, but how to build a method of actually doing it?"

The doctor strolls over to the side of the vat.

"Look at it. It's marvelous. The culmination of all my work. First I needed an area free of all dust particles and bacteria. Then I needed a container. One perfectly smooth and clean. And large. I settled upon this vat.I had to fill it slowly. There's a thin sheet of plastic over the top to keep out any stray dust particles. I had to use purified water. No imperfections. Then keep out even the tiniest bubble of air. It took a many tries, but at last I did it. Then I needed to slowly reduce the temperature until it was zero degrees Fahrenheit. If all done correctly, the water will remain a liquid. Do you see? It's BELOW the freezing point AND still a liquid! Hahahahahaha! Now all I need to do is drop you into it. When I do, you'll pierce through the plastic and the water will instantly freeze with you still warm and alive inside! You'll be suspended in the ice! It's perfect!"

Before Mark could fully understand what was about to happen to him, the doctor pushed the button, releasing the hook that held him in the air. He dropped down, plunged into the water, and stopped. He could no longer move. His body was contorted in an unnatural way. He felt intense pressure and pain in random places all over his body. He felt sick. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. Cold needled its way through his every nerve. He lingered for what felt like eternity, yet didn't die. Unbelievable, unrelenting pain was all he knew, and cold. 

Nightmares From Urth

Did I ever tell you about the time I went to outer space?

I ended up stranded on a little mudball in the middle of nowhere that was overpopulated by these squishy little monsters.

Horrible creatures.

They had absolutely no concept of Unified Field Theology. It was awful. They were lightyears from civilization and lacked any means of returning to it. They had some primitive theories relating to quantum superimposition, but had not yet gleaned its implications. As a means of travel, reality phasing was impossible without a Karmic Entanglement Inducer. Their most advanced conveyance methods involved harnessing oxygenated explosions. It was hopeless, utterly hopeless.

They had no way of truly understanding one another. They could not mind-share. They could not dream-rec. They could not group resonate. They were trapped in their singular universe, isolated to their individual bodies... forever alone.

If my ex-wife hadn't used my life signature to track me down for unpaid alimony, I wouldn't be here drinking ginen tonix with you guys right now.

I know, it sounds unbelievable, but I swear it's all true. I'm toying with the idea of writing a book about it. I'm thinking of calling it: Nightmares From Urth.

Although irregularities within the quantum foam are commonplace, it is extremely rare for these distortions to manifest themselves on a macroscopic level. When this occurs, the normal rules that govern the universe are broken. The inconceivable happens. The unexplained permeates the fabric of predictable reality. A tangent of this nature is capable of undoing reality. Much in the way matter and antimatter are fundamentally identical, yet will annihilate each other upon contact.

A tangent universe is volatile to existence as we know it. The abnormality must be corrected before any major deformation of the prime universe emerges.