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Topic: For the atheists that lurk in the religion/liberty section of this forum (Read 157780 times)
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John Edward Mercier
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So if God is Natural Law (Law of the Universe)... anything found in nature is natural and not subject to criminal or sinful activity?
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BagOfEyebrows
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So if God is Natural Law (Law of the Universe)... anything found in nature is natural and not subject to criminal or sinful activity?
By Natural Law, do you mean the Laws of Earth and/or the Animal Kingdom and/or mankind/human beings in regards to "protection of life and property" ? Those are natural rights... those are about free will - those are not universal law. The laws of the universe I'm talking about are not about the protection of life or property, although the laws of the universe can definitely be a good foundation upon which to come up with alternative ways to protect life and property, if that's your main objective in this lifetime, or if it becomes a temporary situation within your lifetime. More a matter of "protect life and property, if you so wish, but start with a set of laws you will not break in the protection of life and property." (same goes for those who live their lives on a quest for goodwill towards mankind... if you break universal law in attempting it, you will NOT and can NOT achieve good will.) Criminal or sinful activity sounds like two different things... one is about 'manmade law systems' version of 'criminal behavior', and the other sounds like it could be built upon religious doctrine written by man and/or just some random philosophy out there that is non-religious in context but which seeks out to define what is 'good' and what is 'bad' - for some people, religious or not religious, having sex with strangers is 'very bad', and to others it is 'very good' - depends upon the criteria one goes by, I suppose. Some might cite it as criminal behavior (especially if money is exchanged!) while others might view it as sinful - and others might find it to be neutral - while others might just judge it for themselves and conclude it is or isn't something they personally would do, but they won't seek to stop others from doing it, either. By criminal and/or sinful - did you mean to imply "punishable" by both? Is the role of our species to punish each other, do you think? |
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BagOfEyebrows
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So if God is Natural Law (Law of the Universe)... anything found in nature is natural and not subject to criminal or sinful activity?
p.s. I hope you don't mind that I made you a galactic agent of a space travelling show!  |
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BagOfEyebrows
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She suddenly blew at him again with the snorkle. So hard, some spittle flew out of the blow hole. Right at his face.
"Hey! What did you do that for?" he exclaimed, wiping his right eye.
"For not answering my question!" she yelled. Through the snorkle's blow hole.
"I said YES!" he exclaimed. "You only said my name, in the form of a question!"
She looked off in the distance for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and seemed to be in deep thought. "Oh, whoops," she said, opening her eyes. "Intermingle. Apologies. I suspect this is from the past. Or is it right now?" She took a little tissue from the same area the music player was upon and wiped the wetness off his face. "I think we're at the part where you have to confront freedom of religion."
Ross sighed. "It's a long journey," he said.
"Don't worry," she said, tossing the tissue towards a basket, and missing, because it wasn't balled up hard enough, and instead just got all unfolded and drifted down like an opened parachute. "I'm as patient with you as you are with me."
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BagOfEyebrows
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Oh, Ross *sigh*... in my intense page-by-page search for me teaching you about the role of government being a protector of rights, I found our very first conversation together *sigh* - it's so beautiful! It gave me goosebumps... Quote from: BagOfEyebrows on January 11, 2009, 11:16:50 am Are those guys lawyers or attorneys? If Jason is turning to defacto law for a definition/foundation for rights, morality and justice, that would explain a lot of why his brain got a bit squishy on property rights (and morality.)
Quote from: B.D. Ross on January 11, 2009, 03:53:47 pm Yeah. Posner is a federal judge in the seventh circuit. His work is vast; but having read a large volume of it, I suspect largely ghost-written. Most of his arguments come down to logicial positivism, e.g. "this is right because it's economically efficient". Some might call that utilitarian or even--dare I say--socialist when taken too far. His opinions can be downright scary: he trusts people too much, deferring to the good of the group.
Re: Squishiness on property rights. There's no reason to be insulting. "Law", here, is at least something describable. Rather than this "I control my body" so "I own myself" so "anything I labor upon is like part of my body" so "I'll kill you if you take my computer"--and this is a physical law of the universe--nonsense.
Quote of reply BagofEyebrows after Ross accuses her of being 'insulting' with the use of the word 'squishy' (HAHAHAHAHA): Defacto law has no choice but to define morality from the angle of the good of the group, because it is guided by a set of principles that aren't based on natural law, which is a personal and individual and at the same time isn't about a person or individual, but the principles themselves.
I don't know how others think or feel in here about killing somebody over theft (even of one's computer), but I just want to say, speaking for myself only, that I wouldn't kill somebody who stole property from me. But I understand completely where folks are coming from who would kill to defend property of any kind. The issue isn't even the killing - it's the infringement of rights, the theft itself, that is the real issue - and that's pretty much where Joe is coming from. Any infringement of any right is a forfeiting of all rights by the agressor, to him. I understand that. Don't infringe on his rights and there's no forfeiting of anything - he's a do unto others as you would have them do unto you kinda guy -with an additional clause of 'as they do unto you' perhaps.
I'm not sure Joe would kill someone who stole his computer, either, though. I don't think he would, but I could be wrong.
Re: squishiness being insulting... some would find the word socialist more insulting, but I'll take your word for it that you find the word squishy to be insulting to you and perhaps others, although I don't think Mr. Sorens would find it insulting, coming from me anyways. He can take it - he knows I'm only five foot two and it's only a matter of time that he resorts to calling me shorty. I've seen him do it to others in this thread - it's just a fight club moment in the discussion. It happens in debates. No offense really meant, and I aplogize if you got unintentionally punched in the gut by my use of the word squishy. I thought it possible my bringing up of the female rape fantasy study would accidently offend a few stray lurkers and cause them to type up amazingly long paragraphs of hardcore insults at me, but I guess folks around these parts are more apt to be offended by stuff I'm not quite used to... like the word squishy.
Please feel free to offer me up some other word to replace squishy and I will go back and edit it - marshmellowy was the other one I was thinking of at the time, but I wasn't sure I was spelling it right (some Scrabble junkie I am, huh, not knowing how to spell a word, or even having the common sense to just look it up online ) Is marshmellowy kinda better and less insulting/offensive? I'm a little concerned that it might be less insulting to you and others but end up really offending Mr. Sorens, though, now that I think about it - maybe a better word would be 'soft', which kinda means the same thing as squishy and marshmellowy but has a fuzzy feeling to it, a cuddly sound - unless Jason plans to run for sheriff one day, and gets called 'soft on crime', which is really insulting to say about a sheriff. But in this case, soft might be a better choice, only because it's just dealing with property rights and not crime stuff. I dunno, what do you think? (besides thinking that I'm the kind of person you probably would punch right in the face for severe smarminess.) I'm kinda a rough and tumble kinda discussion person. Sorry if I've really, really offended or insulted you or anybody now. Don't worry, though, at some point I'll be banned from this forum - I hold the world record for that on the internets.
For the record, you hit me right where it counts with the use of the word 'nonsense.' I'm slightly bruised by that, I'll have you know, in a delicate area that will takes weeks to fully heal. Thanks for that, I needed it. Who doesn't need a good bit of nonsense now and then, after all.
:hug:
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B.D. Ross
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you twisted son of a bitch... you deleted some posts in the property rights are not absolute thread I see... nice work and great coverup, Ross. I TAUGHT YOU THAT IN THAT THREAD. And now the posts are GONE.
You freaking censorship Nazi. This infuriates me, in regards to you - I bet you couldn't wait to be able to delete that conversation, too. ASSHOLE.
Except for that obscene post a few weeks ago, I haven't deleted anything of yours, and certainly nothing in that thread. (I didn't even have the ability to delete posts when that thread was active. Frankly, I forgot all about it shortly after.) Thou shalt not bear false witness. |
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« Last Edit: May 14, 2010, 02:46:16 pm by B.D. Ross »
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B.D. Ross
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Thou shalt not bear false witness.
So why would I make a quip like that unless we had just talked about it and gone over it? ... why would you do something? I don't think there's a person alive who knows the answer to that. In conversation, you frequently interpret things people have said when they haven't, yet repeat your interpretations as if they're based on facts or actual conversations. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what you did. Sure looks like it. You're just probably just fooling yourself. Which is kinda sad. You know I can't prove it; the posts are no longer there! The evidence has been STOLEN and DESTROYED.
OR, you can't find what you want because it never happened. Thus, the only way you can save face is that I must have gone far back into old, dead posts and selectively removed some entries that I magically foresaw you--someone I hadn't really spoken to much--would want to find at some arbitrary point in the future. --But I didn't touch any of the other stuff? ... Who's lying to whom? I think it's you, and to yourself. I'm not bearing false witness, Mr. Ross. I'm telling the truth. I'm not trying to get you into any trouble, nor to tarnish your reputation; I'm confronting an action that took place against me, in the deletion of an entire conversation between you and I that now no longer exists in text, but of which one post with mention of it happening still exists
 There is not one post which mentions any other conversation. Only your statement (that you think) I didn't understand something. That's not evidence of a conversation. That's a statement by you, an interpretation: it doesn't appear to be a reference to anything. I reckon it's just you reading something that was said before and introducing your interpretation. --The whole statement doesn't even make sense. I mean, it's not even true, and the remaining part about the bar constitutions is just nonsense. I don't like this kinda game, Ross.  This is why you shouldn't touch my writing, ever. Ever, ever, ever. You can't be fair and unbiased. I knew this would happen. Ain't no game. Ain't nothing happened. S'all in your head. |
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« Last Edit: May 14, 2010, 06:26:43 pm by B.D. Ross »
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BagOfEyebrows
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Pardon this last interruption," she said, as she stood up and wiped her hands on the area around the front of her thighs.
"No problem, I've gotten used to it," The Professor said, and looked up at her with a glance that suggested he not only expected it, but was somewhat thankful for the breaks and pauses.
She returned the glance in agreeance.
As she walked away towards the tree The Lawyer was tied to, once more, The Professor leaned himself over the bridge and then suddenly jumped off the bridge into the water. Wading around a bit, he turned to look under the bridge. There sure was a lot of debris, she hadn't been exaggerating.
She heard the splash, but kept walking. If anyone needed a good swim in the baptism of truth, it was him. She continued her somewhat, and for some reason, very miffed and aggravated jaunt towards the other man, softened only by her own merriness and general way of being able to see the humor in the horror of it all.
"You fucking little liar," she said to him, a few steps from him.
"Oh, please, shut up, already," he said to her, looking a bit stronger, as no facial wince followed his words.
"As if you really want me to," she said, sitting down on the ground beside him.
He lifted himself up to be in a sitting position as well. And then he faced her.
She raised her eyes up to his and brought her face very, very close to his and said, "Between you and I, as this has been given the impression of being, I want you to know that I'm not about to give up on any of it. YOU can give up, temporarily, here and there, or think there's too much water under the bridge to turn any of it around, between you and I, but I won't ever hold resolve to that. I know what moves that water inside of you, Mr. Ross. I know it as you, too, one day will. And I will let you build whatever dams you wish. You can attempt to divert the flow of honesty, to paths that make this journey all the more complicated. I don't mind. I will continue to walk with you, through any muck and insanity you want to pull me into and through, with you."
The Lawyer's face got very, very, very angry looking. "The only one here bringing us on a path to insanity is YOU," he said to her, his index finger pointing at her on the last word, coming very close to touching her nose.
She tilted her head down a tiny bit and looked up at him with the most frightening eyes he'd seen on her yet. "Would you like to play some games? We have all kinds of them," she said, for some reason. The words hit him like a force, the hard G in the word 'Games' sounding as hard as the G in Gravity. Or God. He quickly took back his finger, away from her nose. And her mouth, which it was also very close to, even though he knew that she wouldn't bite it; she only looked like she might. She found his finger retreating to be funny and let out a very low, and almost masculine, chuckle.
"Cute," he smiled. "Real cute."
"I just wanted you to know I know. So stop trying to work out a strategy. It's not neccesary. I am, as I always am, amused. And I am always ready. To play. But none of this game can be won, or even played, unless there are rules. And your rules... well. Your rules suck. That ain't gaming. That's just pure goofiness. So, knock it off. Get with the program. And play fair. And by the rules!"
He laid back down, putting his hands under his own head. "You know, woman, every time I think about all of this, of you, I'm torn between thinking you are the most batshit insane person I have ever met, and then, well..."
She said it again. "Would you like to play a game?"
"Heh," he laughed. "Damn it. Well. That's good to know." He looked over at her with a very sheepish smile. "And then thinking you are, perhaps, only as nuts as the world around you is, and it is pretty nuts."
"Sure is," she said, laying down beside him. "But I don't mind. I'm not only used to it, I understand it. It doesn't make me as angry as you'd think. Heck... it's not even such a 'bad' thing, you know?"
"Can I ask you something?" The Lawyer said, taking one of his hands out from under his head and wiping his own forehead with it.
"No," she said, standing back up and wiping off the sticks, leaves and dirt off of herself. "Not right now. You can ask me later. When you're ready for the answer."
"Excuse me?" The Lawyer said, sitting back up. "What did you think I was just going to ask that you'd assume such weakness of me? What in the HELL is your problem, anyway?"
"With you?" she asked him.
"YES, with me! You're always fighting with me, tormenting me in one way or another, with your magic tricks and bullshit, which aren't exactly always funny, I'll have you know, to be a part of, on the recieving end and I've..." he tried to go on, but she gently placed a pinecone in his wide-open mouth.
"This isn't about you anymore than it's about me, Mr. Ross," she said as he tried to pull her hand and the pinecone out of his mouth. "And it's not magic, or bullshit, either. And if you think it's hard to be on the recieving end of this, you have no idea what kind of strength, and acceptance of weakness, it takes to be on the giving side. Not in this world, you don't understand, the giving, the forgiving, the forgiveness of forsaking, not in the real world, you don't, not in the struggle to understand the reality of all of it - knowing full well it comes across as crazy talk. Have you any idea the enormity of what is transpiring? I think you do. Sometimes."
He looked at her to answer and made a face that said "I'd answer that question if you'd take this damn pinecone out of my mouth, you crazy kook."
Pulling her hand back slowly with his, along with the pinecone, he said to her, when it was out, "Yes. I do. Sometimes. But I'm not sure I understand it, and I'm not sure I even WANT to understand it. And I sometimes question even YOUR OWN understanding of it."
"So there we are," she whispered. "Yep. Except... well. I do. Doesn't make it any easier, though. And, yet, at the same time... it does."
"What 'it' are you speaking about?"
"God," she replied.
Ross was so thankful his hand wasn't under his head. It made the movement to give himself a facepalm oh so much more easier to accomplish.
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BagOfEyebrows
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She stood up and began to walk away, singing as she went, "I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy..."
"Pardon?" Ross said.
"I'm not singing this to you," she said, making the sound of the raspberry with her tongue and lips after she said it, and then continued singing. "I'll be your hope, I'll be your love..."
"THERE IS NO ONE WITH YOU AT THAT BRIDGE," Ross yelled. "YOU ARE IMAGINING THINGS. Come back here, let me explain to you the basic root causes of your mental condition," Ross expressed his concerns with all of the sympathy a man who had no idea about the truth, or the facts, or sympathy, could. "I'd like to help you through this. I think you went crazy at some point. Probably when your father passed. It happens. It's pretty normal."
She turned, walked back, bent down, leaned her face in close, and then she brought up her hand, and flicked his nose with her fingers.
"OUCH!" he cried out. She flicked his nose again. "STOP THAT!" he bitched at her. She flicked it again. He reached up, grabbed her fingers and said "Would you like me to break these?"
"As if you could," she laughed. He bent them a little, and then brought them inwards and tried to crush them. Her hands were pretty tiny, in his. But she just watched him try to wrestle some harm to them with a cool, calm expression on her face. "This tickles. If you want to hurt me, why not just keep telling me, and yourself, that man's laws, based on reason, are the answers? That could make me... bleed. Cry in pain. Keel over and ... just about die. Just about. I don't actually die. If you want that kind of show, I got it. A show of pain. I can play that game really well."
"What game? Law isn't a game!"
"I'll say..." she looked up and winked.
"Will you knock that off already?"
"Okay," she said, standing up, and walking away again.
"I want to bathe with you in the sea..." she sang.
"I wasn't really trying to break your fingers, by the way. If I wanted to, I could have. But I'm not partial to violence."
"Oh, don't kid yourself there, law boy, you are..." she said, and then she did the little diddy part of the song "oooh oooh, la la la la... Da da doo..."
"Crazy, crazy, crazy woman..." Ross muttered. "Life is not a musical!" he yelled out at her, when he could no longer see her, and he wasn't sure if she even heard him say it. "You're driving me NUTS!" he added.
He heard her running back. "Shit," he muttered.
"YOU drive YOURSELF nuts," she said, standing over him. "Don't put this on ME!" She'd brought a leg over him and literally stood above him in a stance that, were she naked, would have been pretty hot. But the way she was looking at him was void of her usual aura of sexuality. As if she'd shut it off, with some switch. And then, it came back on; as if just taking the stance turned her on. Or perhaps it was his being tied up so snugly to the tree that had her suddenly feeling a little frisky. No matter the cause, he suddenly felt more nervous than he had when she didn't have that lusty look in her eyes.
Bringing herself down to him, she started to take off her shirt.
"Don't even think about it," he said to her, angrily.
"I didn't," she said as she flung her shirt behind herself, and it caught on the bark of the tree.
He closed his eyes for a moment. "Woman. Seriously. Get off of me."
When he opened his eyes, just seconds later, she wasn't there. He heard a splash of water in the distance, and her laughter, and wondered if his head injury was a little more severe than he had initially thought.
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BagOfEyebrows
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He blinked a few times, and turned his face towards the sounds of her. She was still singing. He could only make out parts of it, though. She was a little bit of a distance away, but enough not to be capable of being fully heard. He thought for a few moments, listening to her. Looking back up again, at the trees, at the little bit of sky he could see, he closed his eyes once more and said, "Woman. Seriously. Come back to that position."
His left eyebrow went up just a little bit before he opened his eyes. She hadn't reappeared.
"Damn it," he sighed, and put his hands back under his head. To think.
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BagOfEyebrows
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The water around them seemed to be moving slower, as if the sun's descent towards its setting was changing something in the flow. She was laying in a dead man's float, and he was holding onto her hands so that she wouldn't drift away with the current. "I want to lay like this forever, until the stars fall down on me..." she sang.
"I know this song. Wrong decade. And it's sky, not stars," The Professor said to her.
"Oh, I know," she said, smiling, looking up at him with her upside-down face. "All that you need will surely come..." she continued to sing.
"I heard some yelling coming from the direction you were in, you know," he said to her.
"Yeh... I get pretty mouthy sometimes, huh? 'specially with him. Hard not to, ya know. He's a funny one. And an infuriating one. And a ... " she paused as the water splashed a little on her cheek, making her smile again. "And a real... character."
He moved his hands back and forth, which caused her to swish around in the water some, as her body was so relaxed at the moment, his movements could do it without much effort. "If I let go, right now, how far downstream do you think you would float?" He said to her.
"You forget I can stand?" she said to him. "And walk to the shore?"
"No. Just wondering if you'd stand, or let yourself float away," he replied.
"This peace is nice," she said, closing her eyes, letting herself sink a little, and then turning herself over and getting into a wading position in front of him. "And you're drenched in it. You can let go, if you want, though."
His hair, wet and back along his head, looked sleek. He'd long before taken off his wet blazer, and it lay over the bridge's edge. But his dress shirt and pants were still upon his flesh, as were her own articles of clothing. Neither of them felt heavy with it or because of it. It just wasn't that big of a burden.
"It is peaceful here. Nice spot. Sorry about taking down the river swing."
"Oh, it's okay," she said. "I'll just fix it later on."
"I'll help," he said.
She looked at him and nodded her head quietly in thanks.
The sun was about three-quarters of the way down towards the horizon, from a spot of noon.
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BagOfEyebrows
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The voice came from the area of the electric poles, but from quite a distance away. Somewhere far up the path, where the dirtbiker had disappeared towards. And spoken through cupped hands, it seemed, to give it direction. Or a more direct force.
"Renee... I know you're there... stay there."
Her body came in very close to his, and her hands squeezed his a tiny bit. She shivered.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I thought he was in jail at this point in time. I must have gotten the dates wrong. Actually, I didn't think about that much in this, and didn't take the time to verify what I pretty much just assumed was the case. Prison, Boston or New York..."
"What?" he asked.
"I didn't think The Dirtbiker's change in sequence would have any change in... well, in my own during this particular timeframe. I thought only his own would be changed. Not mine. Not... well, yours. Ours."
"I'm confused," he said.
"Me, too, but don't worry, that's a very good thing! That's what leads to figuring shit out."
"Uh..." he said, as her hands wrapped around his waist and she just hugged him, for some reason. The water had a sort of silky texture to it, he suddenly noticed. Like they were in a pile of sheets, and not the waters of a river.
"ARE YOU THERE? ANSWER ME!" the voice, now angry for some reason, came from a closer spot.
He felt her body get very tense.
"We must run," she whispered, in very tight sounding words. She then looked up at him with a face that begged not to be questioned. "We must hide. It's a peaceful way of dealing with vio..." she choked up on whatever word got stuck in her throat.
"Okay, so let's do that" he said, her nervousness pouring out of her body and into his own.
The voice was ever closer. "I AM HIGHER THAN A KITE AND CAN FEEL YOUR FEAR, SIS! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" the voice yelled. "JUST FOR FUN! TO TEST YOUR POWER! WILL YOU SUMMON YOUR PROTECTORS? OR WILL YOU FIGHT ALONE? YOU SHOULD HAVE PROTECTED ME BETTER! NOW LOOK WHAT I AM!"
"Oh, this isn't good," The Professor said. "Did he just call you Sis?"
"He's a tortured and pained victim... not everyone handles the abuse of life well. And heroin sure doesn't help. He's not kidding. He will kill. I fear he's right; I didn't protect him as well as I should have from the harms that surrounded us both. But, I didn't create him. He's transfered it all to me, though. To protect them from his wrath, probably. To give it all, the rage, to the one he felt should have overpowered the bad with good, or bad with bad... I think he is angry that I didn't kill them. But I can't kill! I can't kill, it isn't a viable option!" she said all this in a very quiet hiss of whispery breath.
"Shouldn't we be getting out of here?" The Professor said softly and shakily. "This isn't exactly a good time to be getting into one of your long-winded rambles of explanation, I mean... ummm..." he looked in the direction the voice had come from and shivered a bit himself.
"You're right... let's go," she whispered.
They ran up the bank of the river and towards the area of the tree with the rope around it. They both stood in shock at the empty rope.
"Where'd he go?" she said, stunned.
"Who cares? That doesn't matter right now! I like your plan of hiding. Let's go with that," The Professor said, looking around for a good place to camoflauge two bodies.
They dove into some thick bushes and crawled deeply inside them. And then they lay there, trying not to breathe.
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« Last Edit: May 23, 2010, 04:33:50 am by BagOfEyebrows »
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BagOfEyebrows
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The Tortured Soul stood on the stone bridge, holding the wet blazer.
"Who are you fucking now, Sis?" he said, loudly. "WHORE! Fucking WHORE! FUCKING EVERYONE BUT ME!"
*~*~*~*
"This seriously isn't good," The Professor whispered, grabbing some branches and leaves from nearby to cover up his clothing better with, in spite of the thickness and lushness of the low bushes they were hiding in.
"He's mixed up and confused is all. Don't judge his anger. He's not speaking from his heart. Or his mind. He has been lost in the suffering, to the suffering, that's all. You've no idea what he's been through. What they did to him."
"Did you hear what he just said? This is NOT GOOD," The Professor said to her, trying to appeal to her senses.
"I heard him. That's not what he really wants. That is just his confusion talking. Don't judge him, Jason, don't judge him."
The Professor put his chin into his palms and looked out at the path a few feet away. They heard, and then saw, the Tortured Soul's sneakers, and heard his heavy and erratic breathing.
"If you don't come out of your hiding spot, Sis, I'll just go kill Dad. So, come out, if you want to save anyone!"
The Professor reached over and quietly pressed his hand against her mouth and his eyes shone with all of his fear that she would do something stupid right then.
She shook her head slightly, to let him know she had no intentions of revealing where they were.
The Professor looked very relieved.
They both watched as the wet blazer was thrown down onto the path and then they heard the Tortured Soul walking away.
"Shit," she said.
"We're safe," The Professor said.
"Sure," she said, "But he's not."
"Um, he doesn't exactly sound like he is in danger, personally," The Professor said.
"I'm not talking about him," she said.
"Oh," The Professor said. "Right. Yeh, he sounds like he'd go through with it. Probably not a good thing."
"Correct, he would, and there's two decades left to that man's life that I might have just screwed up. So... well, we're going to have to stop this change of events."
The Professor's eyes widened. "Shit," he said.
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BagOfEyebrows
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"Manmade complexities, in all things human, distort the simplicity of how life works... functions... so peacefully," she said, under her breath, but loud enough that he heard every word.
"What?" The Professor asked.
"Love is the answer; isn't that a song?" she replied. "Musicians seem to have a better grasp of reality sometimes."
"What?" The Professor asked.
"We have to get out of fear mode to do this. Think... playful. Think... peace. Think... love. Or it won't work. The chemical reactions the fear brings, or, worse, a fight mode... it won't work, and we'd lose to what he's battling, which is not exactly you or I, but all of the lies, all of the hostilities, all that was stolen from him, in youth. And in his own now."
"What?" The Professor said again, and then just decided not to ask that question again.
"Forget you heard what you heard. It does not matter. He doesn't know we heard. The approach is from not having heard a word of it, forgive it, let it go. It does not and can not be a part of this. That can't be approached. But he can be. We have to stop him from doing what he's about to do!" she said, sounding a bit irritated, sounding a bit determined, sounding a bit... biting. "I'll do it alone, if you'd rather not be a part of this. But, if you want to assist, then get into playful mode. Think... silly. Think funny!"
"Um, I think... I think you've... I think we don't..." The Professor tried to get his thoughts out verbally, but they were all too scattered.
"We've got to approach him and bring him back to the bridge and get him to go on his way, back to wherever he was before he found out where I was, because of a change in sequence!"
"He doesn't seem the approachable type..." The Professor said with a serious tone.
"Oh, he can be. He's actually a pretty relaxed guy sometimes. Mellow, even."
"Not right now, he isn't. Are you sure you know what you're doing?" The Professor looked at her with a stern look.
"Yes. I do," she said, without any hesitation. "With this, yes. Absolutely. And I'm going. Right now," she said, as she climbed out of the bushes and began to run along the path.
The Professor sat there for a few moments contemplating if he should get out, or stay put. And he temporarily wished, for a moment, that he hadn't found his way here, to the stone bridge and the river.
He heard her call out the Tortured Soul's name, and then, for some reason, the word "Catch!"
The Professor quickly scurried out of the bushes and ran towards the sounds ahead of him. He heard the Tortured Soul yelling "HEY! KNOCK THAT OFF!" and when they came into view, he saw why.
The Writer was pelting her brother with pinecones.
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« Last Edit: May 22, 2010, 06:47:27 pm by BagOfEyebrows »
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BagOfEyebrows
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"I said CATCH!" The Writer yelled, throwing a handfull of pinecones. "What, you don't know how to play a simple game of catch?!" She laughed. "COME ON! This is first grade playground stuff! CATCH!"
The Tortured Soul was putting out his hands defensively. Then, he bent down, picked up two of the pinecones that had hit him, and whipped them at her.
She caught them both.
"See? Easy!" She laughed again.
"Oh, I see how it is," the Tortured Soul said, bending down to pick up a few more. "Prepare to die!"
The Professor got a little tense at those words, but then saw him throwing the pinecones at her and saw her throwing some back. He wondered what, if any, role he'd have in any of this, as it seemed to be going along quite well without his assistance. Her words, 'playful mode', came to mind.
He looked on the path in front of him to look for a pinecone or two, but saw none. She must have grabbed all of them along her way to him. Near the outer edge, he spotted some, and walked over, picked up a few, and threw them at her.
She spun around and whipped a few right back at him.
"I'd like you to meet my friend Jason, bro!" she said, as a pinecone thrown by Jason hit her upside the head and bounced off, making her brother laugh. "Oh, that HAD to hurt!" he yelled, and whipped one pretty hard at her, as she rubbed her head.
"Hitting me when I'm wounded? YOU WILL PAY!" She picked up a huge handfull of dirt from the path and whipped it at her brother. "Take THAT, cacahead!" she yelled, and began to run back towards the bridge.
"GET HER!" the Tortured Soul yelled to Jason as he ran by him with both fists full of path dirt and some pinecones. Following the lead, Jason ran with the Tortured Soul and they both pelted the running Writer with as much debris as they could grab in their race back to the bridge.
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« Last Edit: May 23, 2010, 04:42:10 am by BagOfEyebrows »
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