Walrus werds

Four shorts

Four short parts of four lengthy dreams that I can’t sadly remember anymore.

For some reason I’ve purchased or am about to purchase a flat in the small town that I live. The asking price is about 60k, which is okay I guess. The apartment itself is located on the fourth floor of a building right next to the main road, across from a parking lot. In real life the building is only one floor tall and that one is occupied by a bank and a local bar. Anyhow, the flat was being sold by the relatives of the former inhabitant after his or her passing away. As such, the place came with everything inside, meaning both some hideously ugly furniture as truly terrifyin’ interior decoration.

As I stepped through the door into the flat, I emerged into a long corridor that ran left and right. No coat rack, no entry space for shoes. Going left, I came to an L-formed room, with a window diagonally to the right from where I entered. The curtain was drawn shut and the room was illuminated by a dirty gray light. Old green, brown and gray furniture occupied the room and on the left was a bed in a small alcove. The right end of the room (the long side of the L) was a long row of bookshelves, full with books, pictures and other similar memorabilia. Turning around and returning to the entrance door, I continued onwards and took the right side corridor. It stopped shortly, with a door to my right. My mind took notice of the faded pale green cloth wallpaper that occupied the entire house so far and the light brown, faded and worn carpet that covered the floors. The air was dusty and still. Pushing open the door, I emerged into a kitchen. Everything was old, looking like it belonged home back in the ’50s. Stained, white tiles covered the cooking area walls, right under the bright yellow cupboards above. The stove was ancient and the floor made of diamond squared brown and white plastic carpet. A door led into the washing room and toilet on the left and another into the living room on the right. Both room were quite non-descript, but fit well with the theme of the place. Somehow the entire flat felt like time had stood still there for very long.

In my dream I spent a night or two at the place, got familiar with the open stairway up to my flat and with the dreadful elevator chair you could ride between the ground floor and mine. It consisted of an old rickety chair with white porclaine arms, a red seat made out of velvet and a belt that you strapped yourself in with as the chair rose and fell up- or downwards between the floors. Since the stairway was open, it was a free drop of a few tens of meters every time. Black smoke and a metallic hacking sound from the iron gears grinding somewhere inside the chair made a hell of a noise every time you used it.

Later, yet later, I was catchin’ thieves with the local police, who had a flyin’ car. And rocket launchers for takin’ out speedin’ violators. I remember wishin’ I’d taken the bus instead of catchin’ a ride with the local law enforcement to work.

And dream two.

Finding an amazing power awaken within myself, I found myself able to wield a kind of magic. There were evil people around and they used the same kind of magic for… uh… evil purposes? (How I knew this is not clear.) Anyway, I was shadowin’ them in a large mall/living house tower and ran into one of their guards. A battle followed in which both of use choose from a bunch of small glowing tiles that floated in front of us by pressing on them, causing each other to be showered with sparks, fire and worse. Once my enemy fell, my tiles faded away and the repetitive music that had been on in the background faded away. Continuing onwards, I soon ran into another such fight. Soon I was running around the place, fighting these … vampire worshippers (or some such) by means of magic. However, it was not long before I ran into a pack of enemies so large that I could not defeat them. This big +1 sign had materialized above my head a few times after fights, but my enemies were much stronger than me. So I called on a friend who was much more powerful than me. She materialized, we assaulted enemies and soon things were gettin’ up to speed, with dead enemies litterin’ the corridors. But, then another undefeatable enemy pack. So I called on more friends. And the battle continued. We kept finding people hiding in closets, large drawers and such and setting them free would add a random sum of money onto a bar hoovering close-by. One of these people we found was a red-haired woman I recognized. She had injured her foot and couldn’t walk, but had a level higher than some of my other party members. Since we were at maximum group size, I kicked someone out and started carryin’ her on my hip with my arm around her waist and her on my shoulder, while we blasted away at enemies as we advanced towards the last room. A massive battle followed after which people talked for a while, making very little sense. The redhead explained something in a lengthy monologue, gave me a kiss and then the world went dark. When I woke again, the words “Act 2″ were dancin’ infront of my eyes.

I was partly submerged in black, oily water. Only partly, since the piece floor that I lay on hadn’t tipped further into the sludge. Above my head was a hole. The piece of floor under me seemed to fit. Looking around me, I noticed that the walls were old and dirty, made out of round timber, with the plaster and dust having long ago created an unholy combination of spider webs and crumbled plaster. Somewhere in the distance rats squeaked. Judging from my position, most of the building had crumbled or fallen together. Lifting, heaving and breaking through walls, I slowly made my way up to the surface. Though the dirt, dust, oily sludge and collapsed walls and floors. Once outside, I noticed that the above ground parts of the building were looking almost as bad as the interior. Dusting myself and tryin’ to get my soaked boots off, I found myself at the corner of a large square. Ropes of lights lit up the building and the space between lamp posts. Gents and ladies in Victorian clothing were making their way around the square, some stopping to listen to a man play the accordion and sing songs in an unfamiliar language, some stopping to watch a dog do tricks and balance on wooden balls while a man juggled fire behind. A man with an impressive mustache looked at me down his nose and immediately hurried away when I turned to meet his gaze. Shrugging I started off along the road, towards one of the corners. There stood a massive building with golden domes and tall black walls made out of exquisite stone. Marble perhaps? Guards stood outside. Well, the did not really stand as much as lounge around, with an air of a certain guardiness and a definite promise of physical pain for those who dared approach without reason. So, I decided to walk over. One of the men, all who dressed in suits that were certainly top of the line in the Victorian era, but left me unable to assert their actual social status, stood up and blocked my way as I walked towards the massive wrought iron gate. I inquired what building it was. It informed me with a sneer that it was none of my business and called me a mortal. Apologizin’ I fucked off as fast as I could without running. The man had sharp corner teeth. The vampires had awoken. Time was out.

And then I awoke. Have no idea what would have happened in “Act 3″.

The metal stairs echoed under my feet as I climbed them up. Opening the large metal door at the end, I emerged into another corridor. Floor, metal. Walls, metal. The occasional LED screen with infomercials, a poster here and there. Down the corridor, to the right, left and into the room on the right side. Inside the room were a lot of people in my age, which I think was about eighteen. Most were sitting or lying on big crates at one wall of the room, the rest were standing about in groups of a handful or so. Breathing out in relief, as spotted my friends, I elbowed my way through the crowd and over to them. People wore jumpsuits, track suits, t-shirts with cargo pants or something similar. No one had new or very clean clothes. Some had been patched as good as possible, but it was obvious that everyone around was pretty down in the dumps. Somehow my bright yellow tank top felt a bit out of place, but I hoped my worn camos with holes in the knees would make up for it and also draw attention away from my boots (had spent all morning trying to get the bastards to shine). By the time I reached my friends there was a noise in the other end of the room, which told us the instructors had arrived. Everyone sat down on the floor, or if you were lucky, onto of a crater. The instructors wore standard uniform, grey and pleasant to people with no imagination whatsoever. Most of the afternoon was lost on their droning on about different career options. Military, corporate, independent, contractor… blah blah blah. I had already made up my mind, but hadn’t dared to tell anyone. Chewing slowly on a blonde strand of hair, I sank into daydreams of distant worlds and glorious honor that awaited the brave.

Running down the corridor, I was silently cursing myself for oversleeping on Career Application Day (CAD). Coming to the end of the sector currently used for CAD purposes, I looked into a room hoping to find someone to ask for directions. Three girls my age were in the room, practicing some kind of gymnast or cheer leading routine. Two girls would hold their hands together while the third stepped onto them and was hoisted into the air. They wore matching leotards and something told me “entertainment; gymnastics or acrobatics” immediately upon seeing them. And that ment that I was in the wrong part of this sector. They stopped their room as I peeked in, with the top one wobbling in mid-air. They had cut their hairs to look identical and painted their faces white. It all gave me a case of the shivers.
“Which way, way… *deep breath* to mil’tary?” I managed to get out. They gave me a long, good stare, although I feel one of them was simply gazing longingly at my bosom. “Right and two blast doors right” one of them finally chirped. More running.

Finally down at the place I was supposed to be originally, I found my my friends loungin’ around in the corridor, looking bored. Erik and Jake were there, standing close to a door, at the end of a longer queue that led to another door.
“Hi, so you’ve decided on mil’tary as well?” Jake greeted me.
“Yeah” I said, feelin’ a bit ashamed.
“You gonna join the ground forces?”
“Thinkin’ about that, but on the heavy weapon side.” Both gave me a funny look.
“Look! I’m pretty strong and heavy set, I can easily lug around a heavy cannon or grenade launcher without a problem!” I blurted while blushin’, mostly due to anger.
“Right, true.” Erik said and looked down the queue. “Me, I was thinkin’ either ground forces infantry mechanic or vehicle mechanic, since I’m pretty good with technical stuff…”
“For me it’s gonna be ground forces, unless they let me into tactical warfare” Jake ventured, also gazing down the queue.
“Ground forces heavy infantry” I mumbled and shrugged.
“It’s the door here then” Erik informed me, pointing to the door they stood by.
There was no queue and I didn’t think there would be, since I knew it was a very dangerous and physicaly demanding job.
“See you guys on the battlefield!” was my last comment to them as I left. Thinking about it, one of them might have muttered “preferably on the same side” before I disappeared.

And that would be the first time that I can remember being a woman in my dreams.

So now I was back in high school. The class consisted of people whom I went to junior high with, but who then went their separate ways. We had a teacher who everyone hated, who was being an asshole to every. One day he started badmouthin’ this one girl in the class, who was my friend. She broke down completely and started to cry. I took offense and reported this to the school board and demanded an investigation. Nothing happened. Things cooled down and a few months passed. In my dream I suffered from diabetes and as it goes with that condition, needed my food on regular hours. One time during class, he decided to punish us for whatever reason and keep us in class until an arbitrary time, which was very much later than we were supposed to stay in school. The class was fidgeting and unhappy, but kept doing whatever assignment he gave us. As my blood sugar fell, I started to feel shaky, then weak, then bad. I told him that I had to get something to eat, because of my blood sugar levels. He taunted me, calling me a whole list of nasty things and even went as far as to jab me in the gut with the ruler, calling me “weak and a total failure”. After he was done I got up and told him to go fuck himself and left. He made some snide remark, I turned around at the door and just looked at him and informed him in a level voice that he going to hear about this from the school board. Thus I informed them and demanded an explanation. No reply.
Again, later, he was verbally assaulting my friend, calling her a lot of nasty things because of the way she looked (big tits and otherwise quite big as well). Eventually he went over the top and started to poke her with a ruler, while telling class to laugh at her. I snapped. Got up. Walked over. Heard him tell me to get into my seat, first in the same authoritarian voice he always used, then angrily, then afraid… My fist connected with his chin before his mind could fathom what was going to happen and he fell down onto the floor. He swore, tried to get up and met my fist again. After several attempts to fight back, he was being pulled out from class by me, holding onto him with an arm around his neck. Outside the classroom were lockers. I took to running and crashed his face into the lockers. And again. And again.
In a cold voice, I told him that I would not only hurt him greatly if this ever happened again, hell no, I would straight up kill him in a fashion so painful he could not even imagine it. I dropped him to the floor, his face (and nose) a bloody smeared mess and walked away to the Principal’s office to inform her that I had just physically assaulted one of her teachers.

A bit later, after the police and a lot of yelling from people (although not from him, he went home early due to “personal reasons”), I found myself in front of the principal again.
“Do you understand what you have done?”
“The fucker had it coming.”
“You can’t just do things like this!”
“Oh yeah? Neither can a member of the teaching staff verbally and physically assault students!”
She tried to speak, but I cut her off.
“I’ve complained about him several times to the school board, with no fucking reply, what the fuck is this shit?” At my words, she looked down, seeming almost embraced.
“There… has been issues with the board. He holds a lot of… power in it.”
“He’s just a member of the staff, what is he doing on the board? Wait, I don’t want to know. Anyhow, if this shit keeps up, he will suffer for it. We are not here to be abused by him, we are here… we are here… well, this shit ain’t flying. I’m taking this issue straight to the state, since you don’t seem to get shit done.” I stood up and turned to leave the room.
“Wait. I can’t explain everything, but you did something good today. You will not be punished, but please don’t take this to the state.” Her voice was almost pleading. It walked out.

A few weeks later. I’ve met the teacher in question a few times in the hallway. His face is still bandaged and he glares at me angrily, but he has not tried anything. He does not hold our classes either anymore. I went to the state and our school’s students are getting interviewed about things that have happened here now. Our principal is okay, I know it, but there will be some people leaving the staff soon. Very soon.

And that was it.

Society and Social Justice

A paper I wrote for an education and social justice class, in somewhat reduced format.
And here it is in pdf format, incase you are one of those people who like reading stuff like that. It is not the best I’ve ever written, but what can you do.

1. Introduction
The original plan of this paper was to look at the factors that enable and enforce
established social norms and values in order to attempt to show how these create a
culture of hostility towards those different. Further the original intention was to ponder the
implementation of the current Finnish society, as a replicative system, on those growing up
in it and for their future contact with those who are different. Finally it was intended to
attempt to reason for a socially more just Finnish society.
During the reading of the articles that had been chosen for this project, along with the
books cited in the references section, it became apparent that the original focus of the
paper would have to be shifted. This in order to better fit the intended length of the paper,
as well as the requirements of the course. Another factor that shifted the focus was the
fact that in order to properly comment on Finnish society, the books used for the reference
section would have to be written in Finland. They would thus be in either Swedish or
Finnish, meaning that the quotations from them would either have to be translated or
explained in order for them to properly serve their purpose. While literature about Finnish
social justice does exist in English, it was opted to forego it in favour of more international
material.
This leads us to the current set-up for this paper. Its intention is to look at a fabric which
consists of social norms and values, as well as education and social justice. A framework
will be constructed out of a number of articles and a couple of books, all listed in the
reference section of this paper. Some of the issues that were discussed during the lessons
will also be brought up and taken a look from another perspective.
The purpose of this paper is to attempt to show some of the multitude of issues that goes
into the discussion about education and social justice. An attempt is made to show that the
world is neither black nor white, but a cascade of grey shades that refuse to be easily
categorized as either or of an variety of pre-made descriptions of how the world is.

2. Terminology
Activism; Involvement in activity aiming to change or challenge an established
norm, value or political power.
Community; A group of people in a society tied together by various factors, such as
geographical location, place of employment, etc.
Norm; A standard, model or pattern. Also the average value of a
performance.
Power; The ability to do or act, enforce one’s own values upon others and
social value associated with status and position.
Self-replication; The act of creating a copy of the original.
Social Justice; The distribution of advantages and disadvantages within a society, in
which everyone receives in direct proportion to their level of need. Term coined by Jesuit Priest Luigi Taparelli.
Society; An organized group of people held together by religious, cultural,political, ethnic or similar purposes.Tolerance; A fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those differ from oneself.

3. Theory discussion
To begin our discussion, let us begin with a quick look at social justice as presented by
Deron Boyles, Tony Carusi, and Dennis Attick in “Historical and Critical
Interpretations of Social Justice” taken from the Handbook of Social Justice in Education
(New York, NY: Routledge). The authors point at classic Greek philosophy and how the
thought of social justice has evolved from antique times with an enlightened aristocracy
that would lead the people (Plato) and a the distribution of material and immaterial
property (Aristotle) and onwards in a very brief overview. Of interest for us here are the
thoughts of Jesuit priest Luigi Taparelli from the 19th century concerning the structure of
society. In short, society is made up of smaller societies. We might today simply refer to
them as communities, but to do that would be to ignore the difference between society and
community. It would be easy to say that the difference between these two only comes
down to how the words are defined and leave it at that, we should take note here that
while communities exist within a society (as per the definition of terminology), so do also
societies exist within societies. While this might not seem important now, we will return to it
later and elaborate on it further. Towards the end of the chapter the authors describes
John Dewey and his call for schools to create socially critical beings who “worked to
create a more egalitarian society”. We will return to this as well, later on, to see how both
Taparelli and Dewey are still relevant in today’s discussion about social justice.
Having now explored a brief background for social justice, in which education has come in
as an important part during the 19th century, let us next move our focus over to educational
issues and ponder the possibilities of an anti-oppressive education. “Toward a Theory of
Anti-Oppressive Education” by Kevin K. Kumashiro (Review of Educational Research,
Spring 2000, Vol. 70, No 1, pp. 25-53) discusses the mechanics behind “otherness”, the
tendency to label and treat those who are not of the majority, but belong to a marginalized
group. This group can consists of people of various differing variables, be it race, gender,
sexuality, religion etc. He proceeds to list various ways that this can be addressed, without
ever using the word tolerance.
While writing this, I am aware that the word has had a negative meaning associated with it
in the past, but according to the definition used above, it holds the potential for to not only
understanding others, but at the very least letting them be themselves without harassment.
The key question here, for this paper, is not whether or not this is enough, it is simply a
statement that this is the very least to strive for.
The purpose of this paper is not to target “otherness”, but it ties strongly into a point we will
come to later. However it is important to take note, at this point, that Ellen Brantlinger’s
“Impediments to Social Justice” also brings up questions about “otherness” (even if it is not
called by that name). Her discussion brings up power and with it the key role of schools as
“institution[s] that reproduce social stratification”. We shall return to this shortly, but first we need to take notice of Fazal Rizvi’s and Laura C. Engel’s “Neoliberal Globalization,
Educational Policy, and the Struggle for Social Justice”.
The authors describe how IGOs (intergovernmental organizations) are steering education
away from a humanistic concept of education and more into a skill based direction. They
argue that this negative development is acted out by such IGOs as APEC, EU, OECD,
UNESCO, IMF and the World Bank. Their argument is that by doing this, humans are
more and more being geared towards a certain, predetermined, position in society. This
argument was also enforced in class, during the watching of the documentary “A Grain of
Sand” and in the discussion that followed after it. The general consensus seemed to be
that we are all being manipulated by IGOs or Big Business. We shall return to this as well,
later.

4. Further discussion
Having several times promised elaborate on certain things above, we have finally reached
the part of this paper where we attempt to deliver on our promises from the introduction.
Taparelli’s term “Social Justice” has adapted over the nearly two hundred years it has
been around. From his societies within a society comes the thought of “grass root” level of
activism, or participation in an activity. Active citizenship has been seen as a way of
people to have real influence over the things that happen in their local communities. It is
thought that through this “grass root” activism, people can reclaim some of the control they
have lost over their own lives and have a say about how things are done in their local
community. Dewey’s socially critical thinkers fit well into this level of activism, where
students are taught at school to engage in a socially critical dialogue. Given these
qualities, we can almost say that the individual in question possesses a state of mind that
can only be described as enlightened. Such an individual is socially conscious and critical,
prepared to challenge existing norms, values or political power in order to create a socially
just community and through it a society that adheres to social justice.
Ken Blakemore and Edwin Griggs ask in “Social Policy” (p. 80) about who should receive
social benefits and services, something that is also called welfare. The question is if social
benefits and services should be universal, or only given to those who cannot afford it
themselves. While it might seem fair, they say, for those who can afford it to pay out of
their own pocket, this can make the people paying for it unwilling to pay taxes that support
free benefits and service for those who cannot pay for it themselves. A growing
unwillingness to provide for those unable to pay, will only serve to create an artificial
distinction between people, enforcing a form of “otherness” in itself.
While on the subject of the welfare, Gøsta Esping-Andersen points out in “The Three
Welfare-State Regimes” (p. 23) that the welfare state itself is a form of stratification.
Welfare acts as a way to keep certain people in a social position he argues.
Brantlinger states in “Impediments to Social Justice: Hierachy, Science, Faith, and
Imposed Identity” that the “public is socialized to see the particular knowledge produced
through schooling as necessary to themselves and society” and criticises this by stating
that political powers together with Big Business have created a school that is geared
towards producing a suitable workforce for their future needs. But more than this school is
a place where the dominant group creates “Outsiders, and their attributes, are marked,
labelled, branded, and stigmatized” (p. 402). The concept of “otherness” that Kumashiro
spoke of, is thus enforced in our schools. Both Kumashiro and Brantlinger wish for there to
be space for the “others” in school and to make it a place where they feel at home,
welcome and able to be themselves. This theme was discussed during course and the
spokesperson from SETA r.y. brought also up the need of those labelled as “others” to be
able to feel at home and comfortable in their school.
Rizvi and Engel bring up more on the workforce aspect mentioned above, when they
discuss the neoliberal tendency to educate individuals to meet the needs of the market.
Jennifer Chan adds critique to this in “The Alternative Globalization Movement, Social
Justice, and Education” by pointing out that Big Business along with IGOs have too much
to say in which way globalization is going.
They call for a more transparent and open development, in which more humanistic aspects
are considered, instead of simply the demands of the market. Both articles bring up
extensive critique about the direction that globalization is going. Chen calls for more “grass
root” globalization, while Rizvi and Engel argue that the neoliberal influence on education
has been counter-productive to openness and equity through education.

5. Society as a self-replicative entity and how to change it
Those who are categorized as different, it is sometimes hard to remember that they do not
have the same basic human rights as the dominant majority. As P. Mahlamäki from the
Finnish Disability Forum brought up during her presentation for us during the course, this
is still a real issue. While such rights have been agreed upon, reality often takes a different
form from that which has been written down as basic rights. I would like to refer back to an
argument that I made during the discussion of inter-sex children’s right to choose their own
gender as opposed to them having corrective surgery while very young. It was that “while
it might seem as a responsible and constructive thing to do; giving the child a gender
identity and a place in society, this practice should be questioned on grounds of individual
liberty and identity. As it came up in last week’s lecture, people who have undergone the
“corrective” surgery, may feel like they are not whole, as if they are missing a part of
themselves. The demands that no one has to undergo the surgery without being able to
give their consent to it, is an important thing to incorporate into law, seeing how current
practice is in direct violation of human rights.“ And while this might seem as something
self-explinary, it is not within the interest of the child to be treated this way. These
differences in basic human rights are hard to understand in a society that thinks of itself as
very free and tolerant. It is time to take a closer look at the structure of society.
Society is governed by laws and those with legislative power – the right to propose and
pass laws – create and maintain them. In a democratic society, these people are elected
by the people. In the Republic of Finland, we elect them every four years for a period of
four years at a time. No limitations on consecutive terms or age limits above the legal adult
age are imposed upon those wishing to run for a place in our parliament.
Now, those proposing and passing laws would all most likely agree that all people are
individuals, to be treated equally, free from bigotry and not to be discriminated against due
to race, sexuality, gender, disability, religion, etc. However their parliament seat serves as
an extension (and embodiment) of society and its wishes. At least in theory. But since
society is a system, which strives to - like any system - to self-replicate, those in power
attempt to enforce such laws that keep up the current status quo.
To take an example, let us discuss homosexual people’s right to adopt children. As our
society is a creation of a self-replicative system (and the norms it embodies), it is not the
individual’s ability for compassion, understanding, empathy and other capabilities to be a
parent that are called into scrutiny when discussing the for the “other” to adopt.
It is the social values and norms assigned each individual by the society that are the ones
brought up and evaluated, meaning that the thing more important that giving a child a
home, is keeping up an existing norm.
Thus, it is hard to change the way people think, since part of what they think is encoded
into them by the system they are part of. While they might agree that the system is not
socially just for everyone, changing it becomes something unpleasant for them to do, since
the structure offers familiarity and makes the world around us manageable.
However, since the people are the ones who make up this very system, it is they who must
change themselves, if we wish to create an overhaul of society and by doing so the system
itself. Dewey’s socially critical thinker is an essential part of this process as well as
Taparelli’s “grass root” activity. And it is here that the societies that he spoke of to be
existing within our society come in. People united under the same ethical ideals can
attempt to change more than one lone individual. Dewey’s thinker will serve this by via
activism taking a part of the decision making process. Rather than giving priority to a
framework based in archaic values and norms, they wish to this mindset and ask for a
socially just global society.

6. Conclusion
A socially critical thinker living in a place, where it is possible to participate in decision
making, should feel content, according to what we have discussed so far. However, as it
was brought up earlier in the discussion of IGOs and Big Business, it is highly possible that
the person we use here as example is not happy about the neoliberal development in our
world and wish to protest it.
As it was discussed in class after watching “A Grain of Sand” and otherwise too, it can
seem pointless to protest, since the target – IGOs and Big Business – are faceless entities
that will not listen to the will of the common people. There is an inherent problem with this
argument, since both of these are made up of people, most of whom we would call
“ordinary people” and would not look twice at on the street. The reason I am bringing this
up, is to argue that while Kumashiro’s “otherness” was originally applied to marginalized
groups, it can also be arbitrarily applied on others to justify ones own actions.
For me there is a problem with activism against neoliberalism, since I feel that it is really
only creating yet another “us vs. them” ideology. Here we all need Dewey’s socially critical
thinker, engaged in Taparelli’s “grass root” activity, weaving a dialogue between “them”
and “us”. It comes down to all of us working together, if we wish to accomplish stable
social change and through it achieving greater social justice.

7. References
• Boyles, Deron, Carusi, Tony, & Attick, Dennis. (2009). Historical and Critical
Interpretations of Social Justice. In William Ayers, Therese Quinn, and David
Stovall, (Eds.). Handbook of Social Justice in Education. New York, NY: Routledge.
• Brantlinger, Ellen. (2009). Impediments to Social Justice: Hierachy, Science, Faith,
and Imposed Identity (Disability Classification). In William Ayers, Therese Quinn,
and David Stovall, (Eds.). Handbook of Social Justice in Education. New York, NY:
Routledge.
• Rizvi, Fazal, and Engel, Laura. (2009). Neoliberal Globalization, Educational Policy,
and the Struggle for Social Justice. In William Ayers, Therese Quinn, and David
Stovall, (Eds.). Handbook of Social Justice in Education. New York, NY: Routledge.
• Kumashiro, Kevin. (2000). Toward a Theory of Anti-Oppressive Education. Review
of Educational Research, 70(1).
• Chan, Jennifer. (2009). The Alternative Globalization Movement, Social Justice, and
Education. In William Ayers, Therese Quinn, and David Stovall, (Eds.). Handbook
of Social Justice in Education. New York, NY: Routledge.
• Blakemore, Ken, and Griggs, Edwin. (2007). Social Policy, New York, NY: Open
University Press.
• Esping-Andersen, Gøsta. (1990). The Three Worlds of Welfare Capitalism.
Cambridge, UK: Polity Press.

Trip down memory lane, part II

Alright, let’s look at the comics that are no longer on my daily reading list. But before we begin, a warning.

This blog entry consists of a long list of my ramblings. It contains nothing of actual worth, merit or value. All opinions listed within are my own and if they clash with yours, well tough luck. Hopefully you will find something interesting to read in this list - know that I had to recheck a lot of these to find out if they still existed and to freshen my memory. Since, you see, I’ve forgotten what many of them were about.

• Angels2200 - This is a story about young girls who are partaking in a war against the evil martian rebellion. As in sci-fi stories where Terra, the Earth Dominion, United Earth Alliance or whatever bladderdash you call our third rock from the sun under a common government (and some would call that a global communism - but not me (*1)), the ladies are fighting for the good guys. And as always it turns out that black and white is merely shades of gray. And the occasional splash of red as another star-fighter pilot dies screaming in the void of space. My main beef with this comic, which I’ve also spotlighted at one point, is that I couldn’t take the increasing angst of the crew. In my attempt to re-include it in my daily read list I had to stop at chapter six, since I stand the characters anymore. This is most a sign of a job well done.

• Applegeeks - Another one that I’ve spotlighted. Used to be pretty flashy and cool back in the day (and it might still be). When I took a peak at it I noticed that they’d changed visual style. Props on that.

• Better Days - Believe it or not, it’s a furry web-comic. Read this way back, before furries were ruining anthropomorphic characters for everyone. Sadly enough (or awesomely, if you are one of those people), the artist made an adult section for his comic. I’m not against people trying to make some money, but from what has come floating along on the Internet, we are discussin’ some furry porn. But then again, it wasn’t guro or vore, so I guess I can’t complain. When I peaked in at it for this blog entry, I noted that it had ended. Looked like the story actually came to a conclusion. That’s pretty good of the artist, since it was a story driven comic with a pretty solid storyline.

• Brainslug - I don’t wanna be mean, but we’ve seen this before. Angry talking bunny (who happens to be a space alien - or something). Seriously people, can we stop with the fucking talking bunnies with homicidal tendencies already? Good grief, it was mildly amusing when Sluggy Freelance did it ten years ago! Now it is so overdone that even your illiterate Russian granma would shiv you in the balls if you mentioned another verbal lagomorph with violent tendencies ever again!

• Bruno the Bandit - Started reading this comic somewhere in the time of modems, when just surfing around on the world wide web for thirty minutes was an experience. Bruno is a solid comic that I can still warmly recommend to everyone.

• Bunny - Somewhat minimalist comic with avant-garde or surreal aspects. It stars leporids, which mostly accomplish nothing except for being cute/whimsical/dangerous/random/contemplative/looking at fish propelled through the skies by balloons. They are divided into pink, blue and orange - with the latest one having homicidal tendencies. A minus point for that. Otherwise a good read.

• Butternutsquash - Some might award you bonus points for bestiality only a few strips into your comic (*2). My memory is a bit hazy, but I think this was about a bunch of guys trying to find girlfriends. Not a good read.

• Casual Gamers - Has ceased to exist. What was it about? Hell if I remember. Might have been one of those comics done by a couple who had a gazillion other comics at the same time. (Hint: None ever got anywhere.)

• Cortland - Stumbled upon, maker’s power fantasy, not worth the time.

• Count Your Sheep - Cutesy comic with pseudo-philosophic overtones. I recommend reading it just for the little girl’s sheep friend. This comic gets a break from the talking animal side-kick routine that I was protesting earlier due to lack of rabbits and violence. A feel-good kind of comic with no violence, go read.

• Crap I Drew on My Lunch Break - Rantin’, foamin’, screamin’, cryin’, hatin’ and lovin’. Crap was a biographic strip that the artist used to make on her lunch break to get stuff off her mind. And if you read it just as that, you too might be amused by the hijinx and shenanigans embedded within. On my re-read list.

• Dominic Deegan - Uh… where to start. This is a pretty solid story driven comic. However, it suffers a bit from random flow-breaking slapstick and overly dramatic moments. Been thinking of puttin’ it on my re-read list, but have decided against it.

• Dreamscape - Can’t remember, site doesn’t exist anymore. Guess is that it wasn’t all that great

• El Goonish Shive - I remember using to like this comic a lot back in the day. Somehow I’ve got a feeling that if I’d re-read it now, I’d find it to be sub-par. It is about a group of teens that start off normal, but soon develop all kinds of screwed-up super powers. While the maker had a solid idea, or at least gave me that impression, the comic suffered a lot due to mistaking whining and hissy fits for dramatic story telling and solid plot development. Still, A for effort, I guess.

• Errant Story - Wait, I know this one… Gimme a moment. No, sorry, can’t remember what this guy draw previously without checking. This story is about humans, elves, half-elves and fairies… or that’s what it looked like when I took a peak in a moment ago. There was a story, it was supposed to be epic, but will it even conclude - I don’t know or care.

• Everyone Drunk But Me - Some things I will never understand, like why I ever read this comic. It’s about an US girl who learns Russian, travels there and something. Seems still to be going. Could it be that I have  a thing for biographic comics?

• FAIL - I was going to say that the biggest fail would have having this thing on my list. But then I took a look at the page and came to the conclusion that, no, the biggest fail is the legal notice someone has posted instead of whatever crap comic used to be there. Hilarious.

• Flipside - Had a good style and story going, but then the maker decided to re-make the whole thing and basically left the original story unfinished. I hate when people do that. But then again, the new comic was pretty good as well, so all was okay. Lost interest pretty soon afterwards, though.

• General Protection Fault - Suffers from a thing called “wall of text”.  Others might call it bein’ overly verbose, but I prefer the expression above. The story seemed to borrow a lot from the old terminator movies. Not the T-series of robots, but time travel nonsense. A lot of heroic activities included, but not in the form you’d maybe expect. Decent read, but very heavy and long.

• Ghastly’s Ghastly Comic - Two tentacle monsters, chibis and other freaks. Included Jesus-sodomy, if I don’t recall completely wrong. Currently as dead as the maker’s imagination seemed to be running. Had some decent slapstick goin’, though.

• Hellbound - Site doesn’t even exist. Another testimony to how dreams spark, burn and fade away into obscurity. Is there anyone else who remember it still? Or will the last word said about it be in a blog in the depths of the shit pile that is called the Internet? Most signs point to “yes” (*3).

• Jack - Furries beware! Jack is not only the Grim Reaper, he is also one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Sadly enough, he’s an anamorphic character, just like the whole damn comic. The stories it consists of are decent, but the whole thing seemed to be descending into utter fuckery by the time I quit reading. Maybe I should take a look at it again to see if it has gotten any better…

• Last Kiss Comics - Single panel comics, think they were making fun of other comics, in a way. Lost interest.

• Mara-chan - Stumble upon, dead, contained leporid/human hybrid (*4). Wohoo, rolling on to the next one…

• Mac Hall - Used to be big, I think. Over now. What was lost? Hard to say. It was you average super-genious-love-for-mac-author-artist-inserted-persona(s). But it was great fun while it lasted.

• Mine’s BIGGER!! - A comic about a warrior and sorceress who kept fighting over who had the bigger tower. Slapstick, hijinx and shenanigans. It has slipped into the depths of the Internet, falling below the dark surface of the pool, slowly sinking to the bottom of that black pit, where it will be forgotten forever. Ran for seventy-odd strips, not half bad.

• My webcomic can beat up your web-comic! - Also known as Krazy Kimchi, I think. Hijinx, some stories, lots of started but never finished projects. Was good once, for a while, now it is gone. And in so many ways, it seems fitting.

• Nahast - I just don’t fuckin’ know. Okay? Moving on… I said MOVING ON!!

• Namir Deiter - I know I’ve been spewing a lot of hatred towards comics with anamorphic characters. It’s not that I hate the anamorphic, it is the furry menace that followed in their wake that bothers me. And with that said, I recommend you to read Namir Deiter. It is just drama between a small cast of characters growing up. Mostly clean, save and harmless, it is a good place to take your mind off things. Like the up coming crusade.

• Nazi High - 404. Anyone surprised?

• No Rest For The Wicked - Let’s talk about originality. What is originality? Is it to take someone else’s work and re-imagine it, re-create it and re-make it into something similar to the original work, but totally different on many levels? Some of you might say “yes, it is to find inspiration in old work and borrow elements to create something unique”. Others might say “no, it is to just copy the original, making a watered down copy”. Both are right and wrong, in their own way. Seeing how every story in the world has been identified over two millenia ago, it is preposterous to state that anything new can ever be created again. But we all know it doesn’t really work like that. While the Greek divided stories into three different categories and seven story types, it doesn’t mean that something new could never be created. Several comics that I have read have had unique elements, even though they might have twindled away and died, while comics retelling the same old tired love-triangle gets to live and flourish. Bottom line?
  This comic takes old folk tales (mostly Grimm’s) and gives them a new spin. Funny and worth reading.

• Nuklear Power - Ie. 8bit Theater. One of the original sprite comics I remember and source of many interesing characterizations, that would live on the ‘net for very long. Read it. (*5)

• One-liners - Can’t remember, site gone. How fitting?

• Oxygen Deficient - Read above.

• Prime Evil - Up, up and spot the theme!

• Rob and Elliot Comics - Roomies doing stuff. No sexual overtones though, so all you conservatives can breath again.

• Roadwaffles - Uh. It had mass murder, idiocy and no one staying dead. Art was okay, but it had little else going for it.

• Sam and Fuzzy - This time it’s a homicidal stuffed bear, with megalomaniacal tendencies and his loser owner/gimp. Good art and read, though.

• Sanity Check Webcomic - Strike one more for the 404 league!

• School Spirit - Aussie comic about kids in elementary school. One of their friends is a ghost. Tedious with occasional funny moments.

• Snakedart! Comix - 404, is there nothing you can’t do?

• Star Bored - Here’s an idea. Let’s make a Star Wars/Star Treck parody web-comic! If you consider that for even a second, go read this comic. The rest of us - keep looking at titties.

• Suicide For Hire - Two übermenschen help idiots kill themselves. Said idiots want to die but are not able to do the deed themselves. Warning: Contains loads of steaming pseudo-philosophy in the morality and ethics department. Maker(s) fail to get even the concept right. A paid suicide is either an assisted suicide, condoned murder, killing or euthanasia. From legal perspective it is a murder, plain and simple. If you are prepared to ignore the babbling of the two nihilists that do all the actual killing, the art is good and the murders are pretty hilarious.

• Supermegatopia - To understand it, you have to read it. Basicly we are speaking of anthropomorphic heroes with superpowers, but it is also a reason for large tits, nudity and hilarious stories. From back in the day before anyone had heard of furries. Read it now, to gain enlightenment!

• Questionable Content - Whinefest. Attempts at quirky characters, gets smug know-it-all bitches that seem more plastic than pixels. Art was decent, but suffered from a lot of copy paste.

• T.A.VISION - Used to read something called “Tang’s Webcomic” in the dark modem age. This was his adult version of it, with limited graphical activity  and more shorter stories with adult moments. Think he went on to make just adult comics for one of those adult network sites. I’ve seen worse, even though the art was never anything special.

• The B-Movie Comic - Made joke about B-movies. Better than it sounds like. If you want someone ripping on India Jones, you know where to go now.

• The Hockey Zombie - About ice-hockey and zombies. Fuck it, I say. Sadly enough, it still exists.

• The Lounge - If the main character didn’t speak Japanese and be a weeboo, I’d say go read it. Maybe you should anyway, I’m pretty sure at least some of you fit both descriptions.

• The Order of the Stick - Stick figures making fun of 3rd Edition Dungeons & Dragons. Don’t know it they moved ovet to 4th later. It was pretty damn good, had a story going and was amusing enough. Only minus was the massiveness and the occasional walls of text. But hey, First Church of Banjo, everyone!

• The Pride of Life - Purple… wolf-things? Superbeasts? Hell if I even wanna remember anymore.

• Tonja Steele - Annoyin’ brat and her adoptive mother? Stupid friend with crush on kid’s elementary school teacher - add some hijinx and you’ve got a web-comic? Sadly, no, seein’ as it is dead. Was a good attempt though.

• True Magic -I’m pretty sure there was another comic on this site back in the day and the maker has just deleted it and made another. Can’t say anything about it, since I don’t even recognize it anymore.

• Under Power - Twisted and fucked up comic. Died away a few years ago. I found it hilarious.

• Welcome in the Dreamery of John F. Kennedy - At one point during the lifespan of KB we got a new guy aboard. He posted a bunch of comics and then disappeared a few months later. This is one of those comics. It was an alternative-history story where JFK was married to several women and at least one man and they all lived in the White House of the 18th century. Hard to say which aspect of the comic was most deranged, but surprise, surprise, it seems to be dead now. Who’d thunk? :p
  And while it might still exist on whatever pay-comic site it moved to, I shall now happily forget that it ever existed.

• You Say it First - Remember Namir Deiter above? Same makers. This is actually a continuation on another comic they had previously. They ended that and began this with two of the characters having to move out when their old work place (a theater) and home (same theater) was to be demolished. Better than it sounds, I recommend reading it. Planning to re-read it myself.

• ZoeComic - I can’t remember, 404, yay!

And with that let us tally up. I’ve counted around twenty-five comics that no longer exist or have died away. You can count for yourself if you want to see how many are still around.

Until next time my hilarious people.

-Dat Walrus

*1 = I’d call it a hilarious xenophobic power-fantasy.
*2 = I, however, deduct points.
*3= And if this does depress you, please leave the ‘net. For your own sanity’s sake.
*4= Ie, bunny-girl.
*5= “If God had intended on 3rd edition dungeons & dragons, he would now have made 2nd edition first!”

Boasting Walrus, Hidden Spoon

“In the darkness the Walrus worked
Worked away on making coffee
Coffee so black that indeed the
darkness would pale in comparison
Bathed in sunlight the Walrus drinks coffee”

And that’s how fine coffee is made.

To our future Overlords

Most whimpering greetings oh great <enter name>!

I, the lowly Walrus, wish to greet you on your magnificent arrival from <place of origin>! While it is understandable that you are here to <verb> the human race, I humbly beg of you to <adjective verb> us instead! While it might seem as a <adjective> thing to do, I ensure you that the humans are capable of serving you in many and numerous ways! For example we are skilled <job> and delight in <form of work> under your <adjective> <body part>! Nothing will bring us greater joy than making your plans bear fruitation by our <adjective> labour! The <nationality> for example will love nothing more than to be your <noun> for as long as you feel their worthless existence to be tolerated. And while on the subject, I must immediately warn you of <other nationality> who are, as we <form of communication> planning to make armed resistance against your <adjective> and <adjective> might! It is most wise of you to <verb> them immediately, before their folly dooms the rest of us!

In after-thought, we are not edible and would taste really horrible on <form of snack>.

Long live the <adjective> rule of our <emotion> leaders the <specie>!

- Dat Walrus, heroic surrendor and saviour of all squishies

Generic proposition of mutual dismay to a plausible individual

Hello, you.

Yes. You. I’m addressing you through this, my medium of choice.
How have you been? I am aware that we haven’t really been in touch lately, but I still thought to write you. You see, many things have failed to happen, leaving this time in between as a period of stale decay. But to be honest, you haven’t really been attempting to be in contact with me lately. Guess we could say that we’ve drifted apart, but we could just as easily say that there never was a “we” to speak of. Not that it matters, since those times are past us. I write this message and submit it to the intarcakes to propose a position of mutual dismay. A position of mutual disregard, a liberty to discuss mutual failures with various uninvolved parties. Thus leaving us both open to claim the moral high ground, while establishing each other as the villain of this bemusing play. It is not as if the actors were distracted, nay, nor were they eligible to comprehend the web that slowly wound around them. They full attention was on the work at hand, while out there in the darkness of the audience, no one was any longer watching the play.

So I propose civility towards each others, while we speak with ill-intent to all we meet of each others short-comings. In closing, let me say that I feel like this really has cleared the air of floating brain-jellies. Or maybe it’s just the napalm talking, but maybe even insubstantial shadows deserve to own high-powered explosives.

Until next time, beware the Elephant.

Any beer here?

Just writing to say that I am still alive. As of lately, my dreams have not been nearly coherent enough or rememberable that I’d really have something to write about. However, I’ve noticed a change in my sleep-cycle. Nowadays I am often seeing thing that don’t exist while half-awake around 4-5 AM. Woke up today with a briefcase jamming shut my door. I can’t remember what it was that was tryin’ to get inside, but I had placed the briefcase there to keep it out. Other things I’ve seen are small red dragons (the on/off switches for my electric plugs), lions, various shadow critters and the occasional light show.

My guess is that my brain needs some tinkerin’ with. Think the filters are broken.

I accidentally the whole site

… or actually, if we are bein’ completely truthful, only the comments. And not even me, but Word Press itself. Was removing spam as usual and suddenly the site flushed not only the messages marked as spam, but every single other comment as well. Of course there is not a May or June back up from the site, so I had to restore with a version from April. Which curiously enough did not contain but one comment.

In a way, this is all dead hilarious. In another, a bit sad. The old comments prior to my WP move are still on the ol’ LJ site. Not that anyone but me gives a damn about those and even I can’t seem to be arsed enough to re-import them again. If anyone wants to, feel free to re-comment. Not that I expect anyone to bother.

And in other news, I’m still alive - now back from vacation and workin’ again. University starts in a month (or so).

But for now, back to eatin’ breakfast at the computer at work. Toodles cakes!

The Abyss

I have been traversing this Abyss for long. So very long. To be completely honest  with you - I cannot remember that I have ever done anything else. The Abyss is  deep, so deep in fact, that when I stand at its crumbling sides, It is deep, for I  cannot see the bottom of the pit that opens up beneath my feet. It is wide, for I  have never seen a glimpse of its other side. It is silent, with the exception of the  occasional clutter of rocks that plunge into the depths, as I attempt to come too  close to the edge. Many times have I found myself staring down into its depths,  wondering if there is any way to descend safely into its depths. On other occasions  I have found myself racing towards its edge, only to stop at the very last moment  and teeter over the edge for a moment before falling backwards and onto the hard  and dusty ground. And the ground, it is yellow. Like sand, but a clearer and at the  same time more putrid colour. It is mostly made up of rocks, small and large. Grainy  gravel and almost dust-fine sand - all yellow - makes up for the rest of the  landscape. The only thing breaking the monotony is the occasional rock or boulder  and the different shades of yellow that surround me. Sometimes, if I wander further  from the Abyss and turn back to look at it, it becomes hard to see anymore. I would  hazard a guess that it would not be very hard to absent-mindedly plunge over the  edge, were you not to watch your step.

I have been walking for some time now, it seems. For simplicity’s sake, I have kept  the gaping maw on my right hand side. Coming to think of it, hasn’t it always been  there? The sun is as yellow and hot as it always is and the air vibrates in the heat.  In all my time here, I have never seen another living life form. Am I even alive?  Surely I sleep, for every now and then I find myself on the ground. But I can never  recall having gone to sleep. When was the last time I ate? Does it really matter?
The yellow sun beats down as I force one foot in front of the other and continue  onwards. In the Abyss, nothing stirs.

A strike of genius! Today or yesterday? Tomorrow perhaps, I have decided to erect  a small cairn of stones. For weeks (months or years?) I have had a feeling that this  infernal chasm is actually circular. If I ever stumble upon my cairns, I know it is so.  (What then? I don’t know.) Time to build another cairn.

12. 56. 342. 634. 783. 532. 891. 612. Have I been counting wrong again? This is  cairn number 572, right? Putting the final stone on my creation, I stand back to  admire it for a while, before continuing my journey. Next up, cairn number 953…
The cairn casts a shadow over the ground that moves slowly along with the sun. I  am already far away and see none of this.

Sitting in the merciful shadow of a large boulder, I cast proud glances over at my  ten thousandth cairn, standing proud and tall a few hundred feet away. Obviously,  this Abyss is a plateau and I have been walking its edge for quite some time. It all  makes sense now.

With a shake and half-yell I awake in the cold darkness. I spy nothing around me,  no sounds in the night. With a grunt I roll into a ball and fall asleep.

In the morning I find my cairn from yesterday gone. Fist sized stones, the type that  I built it out of, lay haphazardly scattered over the land, further way. I breath slowly,  as I stand up and try hard to think back. Similarly suitable and ready to use stones  had showed up earlier too. According to my memory, there was a time when I had a  hard time to find stones, but eventually they started showing up. Through the haze  of my memories emerged a pattern. Launching myself once again into motion, I  pondered as my feet hauled me forwards. For a few days (weeks, months?) I built  my cairns. Slowly, over the time, I moved my construction work from the evening to  the afternoon and from the afternoon to around noon. It was from there easy keep  up a steady pace of walking, building and walking again. Until one day.

Laying the last stone on the cairn, I scuttled off. A large group of rocks not far  away made for a perfect place to … wait.

And I waited.

And waited.

And…

Days, weeks or months later, something happened.

A gaunt and lanky figure emerged from somewhere beyond the field of my vision and  slowly shuffled over towards my cairn. As I watched it started to dissemble my pillar  of stone, one rock at a time. It carefully carried them further away, laying them  down in no clear pattern or design. Once all stones had been taken away and my  pillar of guidance was gone, it shuttled off into the distance and was soon gone. I  sat in the shadows for a long time, until the sun moved to blaze down at me.  Crawling in between two rocks leaning against each other I planned, plotted and  pondered. And after an indeterminable time, I hatched a plan.

Once again my hands placed down the final stone and I sighed with relief as my  largest cairn so far (or was it?) was finished. Slowly, with my joints feeling like  leather, I limped over into the shade of a large piece of basalt. Staying absolutely  still, I waited.

And yes, soon enough (weeks, months?) the creature emerged again and started to  unravel my handiwork. Silently growling, I crawled on all fours, with an oblong stone  that I had chipped away against a hard stone earlier, between my teeth. Slowly, I  advanced on it and once I was close enough, I got up in a crouching position and  waited ten heartbeats. Then, with a silent scream, I threw myself at it. With a yelp  it went down with me atop and I started to hammer at it’s face and chest with my  crude weapon. I kept going long after it was dead. I stopped with a scream as the  crimson haze finally lifted like a veil from my eyes and I saw the creature’s face.  From my heat dazed mind a chill burned down my spine. Grabbing the mutilated face  in my hands, I cradled while peering deep into its empty, staring eyes. Cooing to  myself, I raised my make-shift weapon and started slicing and hacking at the neck  until only the spine held fast the base of the skull. Blood and gore covered my arms,  face and torso, while I twisted and yanked until the head came off with a cracking  sound. The stones under my feet were slippery and caked with blood and dust. I  scrambled over them, pulling the corpse behind me. Once at the mouth of the  Abyss, I tied the head by its hair to my clothes and lifted the corpse above my  head. With a scream I let loose my anger and frustration as I hurled insults into the  Abyss along with the headless corpse. Shaking with rage, I howled and hooted as  the torso disappeared into the darkness.

Suddenly.

Something stirred down there.

A large head emerged quickly from the darkness and snatched the body from  mid-air. It was the size of a lorry, scaly and a molten mishmash between purple and  black. Its eyes, yellow and shaped like satellite dishes, stared right at me for a  moment before it disappeared back into the darkness. The last thing I saw was a  tongue, like a tree trunk, lash out and in from its mouth. It looked… hungry.
Something warm trickled down my leg. My whole body was shaking. The sun burned  down and a hot wind caressed my cheek, carrying with it a sickly sweet swell of  decay and yellow dust from the depths of the Abyss. Fumbling with my clothes, I  undid the head and flung it with a maddening scream into the depth. Down in the  darkness yellow lights popped up. They stared at me and grew larger as massive  serpentine heads slowly rose from beneath the inky darkness. With it only a mere  few hundred feet below me, I turned and ran across the baking hot gravel, leaving a  trail of blood on the ground, as the first head rose above the darkness and let out a  high-pitched sound. Like a hunting call, sinister and full of dreadful promise.

How many days has it been since that day?

Can I even say for certain that it really all happened? That it was not just a fever  dream, induced by just a few too many sun-strokes. That I had not simply gone over  the border long ago. Was any of this real? Was the Abyss beneath my feet real?  Staring down into its inky depths, I saw no monster, like a hydra of ancient myth,  peer back at me from there. Nothing stirred, nothing moved. There had been no  wind here, ever. But had I not felt a wind? No, delusions. None of this is real. Real?  What was real? Can I even tell the difference. Piercing my skin with a sharp  oblong stone that someone had sharpened, the warm blood welled forth and ran  down the yellow dust that cake forever caked my bare legs. It formed rivulets and  was quickly sucked into the dry, baked ground. Was this real? Did it matter  anymore.

There were these annoying stone cairns everywhere. Someone had once told me  that the serpents used them to spy on their future prey. Who had said that? Had I  even heard anyone say that? Doesn’t matter, the cairns must be destroyed. I kept  taking them apart and scattering them not to attract the attention of the beasts.  Somehow, there always seemed to be more and more of them. My fingers are cut  and bruised and blood stains my hands. It has even gotten into my hair, forming  long tangled balls of dried blood, dust and sweat mixed with dirty mangy hair. And  there, the biggest cairn so far! The serpents are getting stronger. I must dismantle  it right away. Working slowly, I move the stones away.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over me and I catch a glimpse of something man-shaped  that falls upon me. I yelp and am soon overpowered by its savage furry. Blow after  blow from a sharp object rain down upon my face and body. It hurts, dear gods it  hurts so much. But soon, the pain goes away and my vision fades into a hazy  crimson, which in turn goes black. I slip away.

Later. Sooner? How can I anymore even tell?

It is warm. Who am I? Not burning hot like earlier. The sun still burns down and the  stones and gravel are hot under my back. But a cool breeze blows. It awakens me  from my pain-wracked body. Slowly, ever so slowly, I open my eyes. Above me  stands a creature of light. It speaks in a language I do not understand, but its  words feel good. Turning onto my side, I force myself up and onto my feet. The  man, or woman, is already further away, walking. Away from the edge of the Abyss,  where I have lain. It turns towards me and motions me to follow. With unsure feet, I  do. A last glance over my shoulder into that inky darkness. A glimpse of yellow down  there? Or just my imagination? I shudder and hugging myself make haste after the  being. Away, further away from that depthless pit. Towards the white lights in the  horizon, across the ochre flat stones and sunflower coloured boulders. Forwards,  ever forwards. Something fills my heart. Happiness? Joy? Certainty? The light  beacons me. Vapors rise and fall from it as it boils in the air. A step, another and  then, finally -

Later, or earlier?

I have been traversing this Abyss for long. So very long. To be completely honest  with you - I cannot remember that I have ever done anything else…

Still alive

Turned in my bachelor’s project in adult education a few days ago. Just thought I’d state that I am still alive, but currently brain-dead. Will write again once something comes up. Alternatively, I’ll try to finish part two of the web-comics mess I started. Or finally finish my story of how I got to rank 40 in Warhammer.

Until then. Toodles.