Oichi

Oichi is the cherished younger sister of daimyo (territorial lord) Oda Nobunaga from the Sengoku or Warring States period of Japanese history. She was known for her resolve as well as her beauty. Her husband was Azai Nagamasa, a rival warlord of Nobunaga. They had five children together, including three daughters who married well – Yodo-dono, Ohatsu and Oeyo. She’s often depicted as a loyal and chaste young woman. 

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A youthfully cheerful Oichi from the Samurai Warriors series by Koei.

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A melancholy Oichi from the Sengoku Basara series by Capcom.

Azai Nagamasa

Azai Nagamasa was a rival daimyo to Oda Nobunaga as well as his brother-in-law during the Sengoku period of Japan. His marriage to Nobunaga’s sister Oichi was arranged by Nobunaga to create an alliance between the Oda and Azai clans. Nagamasa ultimately betrays Nobunaga for his abuse of power. He’s usually portrayed as an honorable warrior always seeking justice. 

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A blond Azai Nagamasa from the Samurai Warriors series by Koei.

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A raven-haired Azai Nagamasa from the Sengoku Basara series by Capcom.

Nouhime

Nouhime was the wife of daimyo Oda Nobunaga and sister-in-law to Oichi during the Sengoku period of Japan. Her father was daimyo Saito Dosan. She was known for her beauty, intelligence and quick-wit. Her marriage to Nobunaga was a political gesture and believed to be a loveless one. Plus she wasn’t able to bare him any children, leading to the speculation that she was barren. Legends abound that she was actually a spy or an assassin for her father Dosan. She’s often portrayed as a femme fatale in popular culture.

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A dual claw-wielding Nouhime from the Samurai Warriors series by Koei.

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A dual gun-toting Nouhime from the Sengoku Basara series by Capcom.

Oda Nobunaga 

Oda Nobunaga is a famous 16th century warlord and initiator of the unification of Japan under the shogunate – a feudal government of military dictatorship under the name of the shogun (hereditary military dictator). His military opus was succeeded and fulfilled by Toyotomi Hideyoshi and Tokugawa Ieyasu. Nobunaga conquered a third of Japan before his death in June of 1582, having lived a life of endless military conquest. His wife was Nouhime, also known as Lady Noh. He also had two concubines, one of them named Kitsuno, who bore him three children. She was often believed to be his favorite concubine and even thought to have a higher position than his wife. One of his living modern descendants is Oda Nobunari, a professional figure skater. In popular culture he’s often portrayed as a ruthless and villainous revolutionist. 

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A sword-wielding Oda Nobunaga from the Samurai Warriors series by Koei. 

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A sword and shotgun-toting Oda Nobunaga from the Sengoku Basara series by Capcom.

(Wow. Look at all the one-note comments I’ve received. How depressing.)

http://www.amazon.com/Dancing-Devil-other-twisted-ebook/dp/B005MXAZX2

When, at the beginning of april – SIX WEEKS AGO – I put my three e-books up as free for a week, 600+ were downloaded by the public. yet I still have only seen ONE new review on my author page.  All I asked at the time was that thosev taking advantage of the offer be good enough to post reviews of the books after reading, but there seems to be a distinct lasck of willingness to do what I asked.

I got promises from the likes of Pattiann, FlutterbyKitty and several others, yet still I wait for the comments I so desperately want to see appearing on my amazon author page, which I visit every day by logging on to - http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B006IYVA1K 

Erin Miller was the only one so far to honour her promise and post a review, so what are the rest of you doing? I know that many more more of you would be keen to buy my books – available as a small collection for around a mere $12 – offering hours of high entertainment at this ridiculously low bargain price – and you can even get them individually for much less. Here are the URLs you need to click on 

We Aim To Please March 2nd 2012 – http://www.amazon.com/WE-AIM-TO-PLEASE-ebook/dp/B007GMNVRE  56p

Eternity and more Dec 11 2011 – http://www.amazon.com/Eternity-and-more-ebook/dp/B006KXE4O4  69p

Dancing with the devil and other twisted tales  Sept 13 2011 – http://www.amazon.com/Dancing-Devil-other-twisted-ebook/dp/B005MXAZX2

For those of you without a kindle device, just go to this URL where it is explained inn detail how you can get the books anyway - http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/feature.html/ref=kcp_ipad_mkt_lnd?docId=1000425503

As many of you will know, I now post all of my triond content on wikinut as well. this site is free to join – just log on at  - http://www.wikinut.com/in/ughfl/  - 

And you not only get loads more views for your posts ( I have over 10,000 on there since mid-April)  but you get paid extra money for them as well, though the pay rate is admittedly poorer than you get at triond. All the same, you get extra earnings and extra views, giving yourself a bigger web presence and increasing the size of your fan base, so what have you got to lose by joining in there and taking advantage?

Not only that, but as the megalith that is facebook goes public today in commercial terms, do you not think that you might like a friendlier social site which actually pays you for being a member – the more effort you put in there, the more you can earn – not only is Matesgate a great social site and very friendly, but if you open a triod account through your matesgate membership ( which is free of course) then you get 1000 credits for every single post you publish on that triond account.

Apart from that, your posts feature during the day on the rotatng sponsored links click-ons, which all who sign on there are obliged to click on every day, so your posts are guaranteed to get even more views every day. This site really is great, offering you lots of ways to promote yourseldf and your work, interesting chat with friendly people (which also earns you credits) and the chance to earn money for yourself and everyone else for just being an active member. You really do not have anything to lose, but everything to gain, by signing up and joining in at - http://www.matesgate.biz/refs?tonyleather

Finally, I want to let my latest review of one of my books have the last word. A lady author I know from another writer site at writelink - Nicola Cleasby gave my sci-fi volume a 5-star rating -  

Quote – “Science fiction is one of my favorite genres; I love it for the sheer variety of stories where absolutely anything can happen. For me, it’s also a genre which works well with the short story form. That’s certainly the case with Tony Leather’s anthology, Eternity and More.

Whether he is revealing the depths of human emotion, such as in the moving stories, Eternity and Sweet Revenge, showing us alien life forms as in Sentient Samaritans, or rewriting history as in The Cross We Bear, the author does it with flair and imagination. He shows us distant planets and futures, new races of beings, but still manages to mix the fantastical with very real human emotions. There is something for everyone in this great collection of stories” – Unquote.

http://www.amazon.com/WE-AIM-TO-PLEASE-ebook/dp/B007GMNVRE  

Knowing how good my fiction is, why are ore of you not taking advantage of the low prices and buying your copy right away?  And PLEASE get those reviews rolling in?  Thanks.

Researchers at Ohio State University examined what happens to people who are reading fiction. The result is people will feel the emotions, thoughts, beliefs and internal responses of one of the characters as if it happened to himself.

Researchers also found that, in certain situations, your mind sinking into a fictional character can change your behavior in real life although it is probably temporary.

In one experiment, for example, the researchers found that people who have been drawn into a fictional character when faced with a difficult choice, but a few days later he was able to take the decision of the options easily.

In another experiment, people are drawn into fictional characters can influence sexual orientation, behavioral psychology and may be less stereotypical.

“It can change you without you knowing it by combining his own life with those of the characters that you see,” said Geoff Kaufman, head of research at Ohio State University.

Effect of a fictional character does not happen all the time. This only happens when people are in a state wants to forget his own identity while reading a fiction novel.

In one experiment, the researchers found that most students do not carry over into fictional characters when reading a comic in a cubicle with a mirror.

“The more you remind yourself to be a personal identity, the less likely you sink into the identity of the fictional character,” said Kaufman.

The ending was, however the most moving part of the entire series. The beginning of the end was perhaps when Katniss, Gale and their team is infiltrating the capitol. After the death of their leader Boggs, Katniss assumes the leadership role and leads the team to the center of the capital. Along the way, Finnick was also killed by some rose scented lizard mutts.

However, rock bottom was when Katniss herself, sees her younger sister, Prim being sent to the frontlines and caught in an explosion. She entered the games in the first book, with one objective, that of saving Prim. In the end, it just goes to show that not even the strongest of people can accomplish anything.

After realizing that she was being used by both the Capitol and the rebellion, she decides to take her life back by assassinating Coin, making sure that she was not a part of anyone’s games. In the end, Katniss is somewhat forced to live with Peeta in district 13, seperated from her family, and Gale.

Some may say that this was a somewhat, sad and disappointing ending, but I believe that Suzanne Collins created the perfect ending. It just goes to show that in war, there are no winners. War results in losses from both sides. This is what Peeta, whether brainwashed or not stated in his interview. This proved to be true.

16 Years Later: 
Screams could be heard through out the dark, musky forest as the parents of the vampire’s victim called out for their little girl. They had heard a loud thump from their six year old daughter’s room earlier that night. When they went to check on her, they found the vampire bending over the child, ready to feed from her. Its fangs just inches from her small throat. Upon seeing the parents, the vampire scooped up the sleeping child and jumped out of the window, and dashed into the forest. 
The vampire was newly turned and was crazed with blood lust. Normally a fledgling vampire’s sire would not let a Newly Turned just simply run around unwatched; however, this Newly Turned seemed not to care about what it did, only thing on its mind was to get away from its pursuers and feed in peace. 
Once the vampire figured it was safely away from the child’s parents, it set the girl down and looked around. Something else seemed wrong and out of place about the surrounding area, but the vampire could not figure it out. Figuring that it best hurry, feed, and get out of the area as soon as possible, it bent down towards the sleeping girl with its fangs bared. Just as it was about to pierce the girl’s skin, it heard a whistling sound, like something flying through the air. The vampire did not have time to look up or make a sound before its head came off its shoulders and fell to the ground with a soft thud, the surrounding moss absorbing most of the sound. 
Its killer jumped down from a nearby tree just as the girl’s parents came into view. “Your daughter is safe,” the hunter said as the father picked up his daughter and held her close. 
“Thank you so much!” the mother said in relief, seeing that her daughter was indeed safe. 
“I am glad I was passing by.” The hunter’s figure was feminine. She wore a mask that covered most of her face. Her silver hair was back in a short pony tail. She cleaned off the weapon she used, a silver fan, and set to work cleaning up the area before the vampire managed to revive itself. Even as a young vampire, she knew that it would take just a few days before it was roaming the world again. Since it already broke the laws, she could not let it do that. 
“Do you have a place to stay?” the mother asked as she watched the female hunter dispose of the vampire’s body by burning it; the hunter had cleared an area that would not cause a forest fire. For a while, the hunter did not respond, being too busy on her job to focus on anything else. 
Once she was done, she turned to the young couple. “No, I never have time,” she responded. 
“Would you like to stay the night with us? All we can offer you is a cozy bed and food,” the father added. His wife handed him her jacket, noticing that their daughter was shivering. 
“That would be nice. Thank you.” She followed the couple back to their home. 

It was a nice little place, with a beautiful flower garden in the front and a stream flowing on the side of the place. She stood in awe at it, noting the craftsmanship and landscaping. “That is beautiful,” she responded. 

“Thank you. Come inside. I’ll get you something to eat.” The mother held the door open so that her husband can get their daughter in and waited for the hunter to come in before closing it and latching it shut. After securing the door, she went around and secured the rest of the house, not wanting another Underworld being to come in and attack any other member of her family.

While she was doing that, the father set his daughter down on a hand built forest green couch and turned to the hunter. “I’m Brad Williams,” he said, extending his hand to the hunter. He was about twenty-five year old, with long dark brown hair that he wore in a pony tail. His wife, the hunter noted, was a smaller woman compared to herself, with a petite figure and long red hair. The young child she just saved appeared to be no older than about five or six with a mop of light brown curls. She laid on the couch curled into a small little ball with her thumb in her mouth. “That is my wife, Tina, and our daughter Korrin.” 
“Natasha Silvers,” the hunter replied, removing her mask and accepting his hand in a shake. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” Brad said as his wife walked up, said her thanks and greetings, and then went into the kitchen to get them all something to eat. Brad sat down on the couch next to his sleeping girl. Natasha took the seat next to a blazing fire. “So, are you a licensed hunter of the…” 
“No,” she replied, cutting him off. “I work alone. Though I do hunt those that break the laws, I do it more to prevent more families from being torn than for the job. But I am also doing it, in hopes of finding clues to the location of my older brother that was turned five years ago.” She looked into the fire, remembering the events of the dreadful day she found out about her brother’s turning. 

Natasha, when she was seventeen, was constantly training in the ways of magic and physical combat. After what happened to her years before, she had been taken in by a druid, whose mission was to hunt down and banish all evil from the world, but he was getting old she he took her under his wing in hopes to pass his knowledge onto her. 
Though he could only teach her magic combat, he called in masters of other forms of combat to help him train and prepare her. She was a quick study; always staying a step or two in front of her instructors as she mastered magic, stealth, weapons combat, herbalism, and many forms of martial arts. 
Once night, after finishing her days training, she stood out on a small island that sat in the middle of Lake Syne. The lake itself was not far from her home, so she came to it often at night simply to relax and look up at the stars, admiring the view. On the other side of the lake was a massive forest that was said to be overrun by beasts and monsters, but looking out upon it, it was hard to tell that such beauty could hold such ugliness. 
She kneels down close to the water and looked at her reflection as the moon danced across the surface. She was hoping to see some of the rare fish that only appeared when the moon was out and shining on the water’s surface. As she leaned closer she did not see one of the fish, but a shadow from over head. Startled, she looked up and back, nearly falling into the water. What she saw was a tall man with blood all over his shirt and neck. His long black hair was matted with it as well. 
She quickly stood up and pulled out twin daggers. She stood in a battle stance, waiting for this man to try to attack her. She knew that he had just been bitten, but where was the vampire that bit him? she wondered as she held the daggers close to her, but pointing outwards in case he should rush her. She kept her ears open, in case he was just a trap. He took a step forward, holding his left hand out. 
“Please, I don’t mean you any harm. I am just trying to find someone. My little sister. I need to talk to her,” he stated as he slowly moved towards her. 
“Why? Did your sire tell you to make this ‘little sister’ your first meal?” she challenged. At that, he stopped advancing and put his hand down. 
“No, after I found out what she did to me, I knew I could not stay there anymore, so I fled. Please, I am looking for my sister, Natasha Silvers, do you know her?” he asked. Natasha’s eyes grew very wide in surprise that she nearly dropped the knives as well as her guard. 
It did not take her long to recover and she threw one of the knives, just missing the man’s head. “How do you know that name? Who are you?” she demanded. 
“I’m her older brother, Kyle. Judging from your reaction, you must have…” At that moment, Natasha broke out into tears. All these years she thought he was dead and now she finds him alive, well undead. 
“Kyle, all these years…” she managed to get out before he knew that he stood before his sister. 
“Natasha? Wow, you have gotten big? But there is something I really need for you to do for me, Tash,” he said holding onto her shoulders. 
“What?” she asked, after getting herself together. 
“I need for you to kill me.” He saw the shock in her eyes, but continued before she could reply. “I have been a slave to The Dark Lady, for twelve years now. I don’t know what she is called other than that. Last night she came into my chambers and turned me. I don’t know how much longer I have until I am completely turned. I then escaped when I saw her leave and came looking for you. I don’t know why it was so easy to escape her this night. But I just ask this one thing of you. Please kill me before I become a monster upon this earth.” He continued to plead with her, but Natasha was too overwhelmed with the fact that her brother had been alive all this time, a slave to the very thing that killed their parents years before. 
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I can not do it,” she said, with her head down. She knew that she should, but she could not bring herself to do it, not when she was finally reunited with him after so long. 
Kyle sighed and turned away. ”I understand, but I want you to continue your training and when you are ready, hunt me down. In the mean time, I will travel the world looking for a way to avenge our parents.” He then disappeared into the shadows and Natasha was alone in the darkness… 

“Miss Silvers? Are you okay?” a voice called. Natasha blinked a few times and found herself back in the small cottage of the young couple whose daughter she rescued from a vampire. She looked over at her host, Brad, and noticed that he had a worried look on his face. 
“Yes I am fine. Just old memories resurfacing,” she reassured him. 
“Well, that’s good to know. Well I mean, not that the memories are good, but that you are okay,” he stuttered, trying to make it come out right. Just then Tina called them to dinner. 

After the meal, Tina led Natasha to the guest’s room and bid her good night. The room was not very big, with a single window that was boarded up, a single person bed with a wool blanket and feather pillow. The hardwood floors felt cold to her feet as she removed her shoes. There was a dresser and other items on the other side, it seemed this family used this room for extra storage when it was not being slept in. Once she was alone, Natasha placed her pack on the bed, opened it, and pulled out a small orb. Instantly a face of a rather old man appeared within the orb. “Natasha?” the man asked as he squinted his eyes to try to see her better. She said nothing and simply nodded. “Ah, well, I am glad to see you. There is some thing very disturbing going on.” 
“Other than the vampires?” she asked. 
“Indeed, the forces of nature seem to be out of alignment and I would like for you to see what’s going on. I would do it myself, but I am not as young as I used to be, but I will assist you in any way I can.” The man in the orb was a highly respected druid and like all other druids he revered nature, often becoming involved in efforts to sustain a balanced ecology, as well as an animist, believing that everything in nature possesses a soul or spirit.
“Kegan, in what way is nature out of alignment? What do you mean?” 
The druid was silent for a moment before continuing. “Some dark force is controlling the mythical creatures of the world and causing them to do things they normally would not do.” 
“So you want me to hunt down this dark force before it is too late? How is this connected to my brother?” she asked, she normally only excepted missions that would bring her closer to finding either her brother or her brother’s sire. 
“There may be a chance that your brother might want to use this to his advantage to over throw his sire,” Kegan stated. It was Natasha’s turn to stay silent for a bit. 
“And if that happens, he could end up being an even bigger threat then he already is…” 
“Exactly my point. Now, get some rest, you’ll need it.” Just then the orb went black and Natasha stuck it back into her pack, got prepared for bed and went to sleep. 

Early the next morning the ill child’s parents knelled next to her as her fever continued to rise. They looked at each other worriedly, unsure what to do. All the local doctor’s could not seem to be able to help her and her parents were giving up hope. Her sickness seemed to get worse by the day and already they had to change her sheets three times because they would get soaked with sweat. 
Just then the window to the room opened and the child’s parents were blinded by a bright light. When it dissipated, a white bird stood at the foot of the girl’s bed. The parents recognized it as being a Caladrius; a mythical bird that can predict if a sick person will live or die. There was hope yet. They held each others hand waiting for what the Caladrius was going to do. 
The bird looked at the young couple and around the room, but never once did it look upon the young girl. It hopped down from the foot of the bed and onto the bed itself, eyeing the parents of the ill child the whole time. As it reached the torso area, the bird turned around, facing the window again and sat down on the girl. 
The young couple gasped, for they knew that if a Caladrius turns away from an ill person, the person is doomed to die from the illness. They pleaded with the bird to turn and face their daughter, but the bird did not move, however it launched itself into the air and flew out the window, leaving the young couple to mourn for their daughter as she struggled to breathe. 

The bird landed on a slender arm and cooed as the figure pet it. “Good job, my pet. I will now have another soul to add to my collection.” It grinned as it heard the cries of the child’s parents. “Not much longer now,” it added. The figure stood at the edge of the forest that the small cottage was near. There were no other houses for miles and the surrounding farm held many types of farm animals. 
The figure looked up at the chimney for a moment, watching the smoke rise, knowing that soon there would be no detectable human life in that little cottage. It leaned against a nearby tree as it continued to watch the smoke rise, noting that it had the aroma of cooking chili. 
Moments later it heard something coming at it through the air, looking that way, it say a dagger heading right towards it. Ducking, it managed to avoid the blow, only to be ensnared by a bolas; ‘a throwing made of weights on the ends of interconnected cords, designed to capture animals by entangling their legs.3’ As it fell, it call out to the caladrius, commanding it to protect it from its attacker. 
The caladrius launched itself up into the trees where it knew its master’s attacker was hiding. It attacked with beak and claws, growing more monstrous with each strike until it was impossible to tell what it was, other than a monster bird. 
The attacker knew it had to move quickly before its target could escape. Spraying the caladrius with some sleeping gas, it watched as it shrunk back to its normal size before placing it inside a cage and hung it on a nearby branch. Jumping down, the attacker landed just inches from the figure it had ensnared. 

“Enslaving the creatures of Myth to do your dirty work, have you no shame?” Natasha asked the demon as its feminine exterior dissolved, leaving an ugly, skinless being with its head in its torso area and a large tongue type thing hanging where the head should have been. “And did you also know it was a crime to be that freak’n ugly!? Seems as though someone did not simply beat you with an ugly stick, you bathed in the Lake of Ugly to add to the effect.” 
The demon looked up at her and laughed. “It doesn’t matter what you say, soon the soul of that child will be mine and I shall grow in power!” it gloated. 
“Yah yah, uh huh! If you say so,” she taunted. She then jabbed the Saint’s Dagger into the demon’s right eye, which was just below its heart. Its screams tore through the forest. “Now, tell me, who else is trying to control those of the Myth? And give me a straight answer or it will be more than just your right eye that will feel the blades sting. Oh, and don’t think you are going to get that child’s soul, because…” she pulled out several throwing stars, turned just slightly and threw them at the cage that the caladrius was trapped in. The cage fell, releasing the bird, which flew into the window of the cottage and removed the illness from the child. “…the child is not going to be dieing any time soon and most defiantly not by your hands.” 
The demon watched as the caladrius flew out of the child’s room, carrying the illness in its claws. “But…How? It was under my control! How did you break my spell?” the demon demanded as the bird flew off and the sounds of overjoyed parents filled the forest. 
“Simple. I just simply woke it up. Now answer my question. Who is behind all of this? Who else is controlling the Myth creatures and beings? Tell me and I promise your death will be swift.” 
The demon knew that this girl was dangerous, it also knew that it had to try to warn the others, but how? “The Valley of Twilight is where you want to do,” it advised. 
“The Valley of Twilight is vampire territory. Are you saying that it’s the vampires that are behind this?” 
“The vampires know nothing of the true value of the valley. It’s a huge inter-dimensional gateway from this world to the realm of demons. You might as well kill me now. You are not going to win. One puny human could not hope to stop the opening of the portal.” Just then the demon grabbed a hold of the dagger in Natasha’s hands and before she could react, plunged it into its heart. The demon soon dissolved and sinked into the ground, poisoning the surrounding area. 
As fast as she could, Natasha healed the area before the poison found spread too far. Luckily it did not reach the small house. With this new information, Natasha set out again to try to gather more about this portal and of the ‘true’ nature of the Valley of Twilight.

A modern ouija board plus planchette (Photo credit: Wikipedia)y

LIFE has a system, with the tiniest forms of life; it has a system. Look at the system’s of Ants and Bees….their work is connected, arranged, supervised and mastered by the Leaders.  A good example is the Drone Bee.  He is not even quite built like the other bees and it is his responsibility to reproduce with the Queen Bee who is probably the mother of all the worker bees in a hive.  Or the walking stick who looks exactly like a twig with legs and can escape his birds-of-prey and other prey who will fortunately mistake him for a simple twig.  Or a group of bugs found in Africa that form what appears to be a flower to escape the glare of their prey.  You reach out to this flower and find that it isn’t a flower at all.   Many times I say that pure FACT is stranger than any fiction that can be written.

I’ve written articles on The Paranormal and one entitled No Walls as well.  I’m always thinking of this world and how beautiful and mysterious  it is.  The Power is God or whoever we call our Supreme Leader.  I prefer God, Our Lord, Our Father, The Savior.  Just think that we can be immediately connected with Him when we pray!  In the meantime we have the world and the people, places and things in it.   They make us wonder all of the time if we’re thinking people.  That feeling that you have done what you are doing at present, sometime  before.  Or that feeling that someone is coming to the front door and indeed they do. And by the by a Fireman knocked on my door by accident about 30 minutes ago.  I had felt that something like that would happen.  The feeling that someone has passed from this world and you find that they have.  How can we know this?  I am Clairvoyant but I don’t use it except for myself.  I’m not always that special, many people have the ability to foresee, they just don’t take it seriously.  I’m always predicting things or I’m saying things that I have no knowledge that has happened.  I can spot the decent from the not-so-decent.  Some people say that December born folks such as myself are prone to Clairvoyance because we think so much.  So if this is true, I am truly that!  I think just too, too much.   My thinking can be therapeutic and distressing sometimes but I do think.  I have to have mind control however because life can be too disturbing to explore and know everything negative about it.  Doctors are wonderful people but I wouldn’t want to know what they know.  If I did, I would be diagnosing myself at a rate so alarming, I’d probably just keel over one day from the thoughts!

I worked with a certain young lady once.  One of the male Clinicians always said that she and I were the nicest looking ladies on the floor because we were so well-groomed with our hair, nails and neat clothes.  We seemed to like a lot of color.  This lady was a nurse with loads of property but said that she spent so much money that she was also the brokest and poorest woman in the world, jokingly of course.  She had ventured into Real Estate with her former boyfriend whom she said still held a good relationship with for the sake of the property.  She was a serious minded young woman.  Sometimes we talked.  I can’t say that we were friends because I just didn’t really know her, but I found her honest.  I have no idea how we got on the paranormal one day but there was something we were talking about with regards to Psychics.  I told her that I would never want them to tell me something futuristic that was to happen to me and she said “Those people could be Prophets.  I would want to know……” and I shared my experience with the Ouija Board and my sister.

My sister was born with a veil on her face.  My mother never explained fully what that meant but she was the Seventh child too.  From a child on, she had a gift.  She could predict and she could project her thoughts.  When we were young adults we met some girls at work who brought a Ouija Board to work.  We had never seen or heard of this thing before.  Never.   This was during the age of Aquarius when the moon was in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligned with Mars….then peace will guide our planet…..  Now I used to know what the lyrics to the song Aquarius meant and it meant something back then to know.  This was a period of peace though we were dead in the middle of the Viet Nam War…..you walked down the streets of New York and a Hippy just may have given you a nickel or a flower as two did me and races were attempting to know and understand each other.  So it must have been a mentally peaceful and stimulating time.  We were discovering ourselves.  I wore a Natural hairstyle beautifully proudly and went back to school , bought expensive but eclectic clothes, studied Astrology on Thursdays.  It was a unique time to grow up.

The Ouija Board was to be a game for it was made by Parker Brothers after all.  It was more than a game.  Thoughts and predictions could be set to influence and move the pointer to the boarder of letters that ran across the top of the board to spell out the future.  Now bear in mind, if I had sat that board from 1969 until now, that pointer would not have moved unless I nodded off and pushed it.  I guess that wasn’t the way to showcase my clairvoyance.  My sister?  Tell you what.  One evening we were playing it and it was so eager to respond to her touch that she touched it, took her two hands off , the pointer operated on its own and spelled out something about me that happened to be true.

I look back and wonder why this wasn’t as frightening as it should have been at first.  After some months, people were buying the boards because we had ours from the girls at work.  But I eventually put that thing down an incinerator.  I figured out that this was not God speaking to us and if it was not Him, who could it have been.  And then further I wondered if my dear departed sister should have become a Prophet for she had the gift and the gift shaped her life because she always had the gift to know these things but sometimes the world can call you crazy for it.  My sister was a girl that men just naturally loved.  She had the perfect height, a beautiful slim figure and a head of luxurious hair and dimples played in each cheek.  She was also an honor student all through school but refused to get a formal education.  She was still irresistible to Hirer’s for she often got elite Jobs in Law and Architectural firms.  When she died she had worked for the most prestigious Real Estate firms in our State as a Bookkeeper.  So she was no slacker, had a beautiful sense of humor, nice glamorous jobs and people loved her.

The girl that I worked with listened to me that day at lunch and said “You know, I think I understand how you  feel now about not wanting to explore the unknown, but I just wish I had someone like that close to me…”  It was what she said after that that made a believer out of me even though I had so much to make me believe already.  My co-worker had a play brother.  They were raised together and he had married a woman that he had also divorced and had custody of their daughter when the daughter was 15.  He loved this girl and being afraid of the big city  and his daughter acting out with boys, he decided to move her into one of the Suburbs so that she could get a better education in a Public School.  I could understand because our town’s schools can get pretty outrageous at times.  So he bought a home and it was him and her.  Her grades were improving and he made sure that she had a key to get in  before he arrived home from work an hour later.

The first time it happened he walked straight to her back room, found the windows shut and her doing her homework.  “Who the (bleep) was that”  she looked at her father with innocent eyes and said “Who daddy?” as he shot back “That dude that was just in the dining room running into your room”  You see, it didn’t matter that the windows were closed in her bedroom even though the young man had ran to her room rather than the back to get out the kitchen door.  The father only saw, and that  the guy  could have been hiding under the bed, in the closet, the pantry…..anywhere.  Yet the father  could not find him.

This went on a few times more; this person who scattered whenever the father came home.  This was the early 2000s and Karl Kani, Sean John, Phat Pharm, Enyce, etc. were all making lively colored casual shirts for Urban Youth who were into that style.  I’ll admit myself that I loved that relaxed Urban look from these Designers when it was clean and fresh with the nice jeans and Air Force  Ones.  The young man wore a lively large striped shirt and black jeans, Air Force Ones probably and was nice and well-groomed. The father and his daughter’s relationship was becoming strained to say the least.  There was a guy there even though the father could not prove a thing when he went to search.  The father is seeing this guy and cannot find him in a matter of seconds.  Unbelievable and disturbing as well.  One day, while Dad sat at his desk he decided to call the Real Estate that sold him the home.  He was fortunate enough to get the lady, Ms. O’Quinn that had sold him the home.  He had to ask her some personal questions about the prior owner of the house.  She was gracious enough to have the previous owner call him.  She did, within an hour.  “Hi” the man said  “my name is Mr. Blake and I understand you owned the home before I bought it” the lady was nice and told him “certainly.  But I moved when I lost my husband and then my son.  I felt that if I moved my son wouldn’t continue to try to get home.  He was shot to death just steps away from the house” she said sadly “I want him to be at peace.  I think he’s still earthbound” she finished “Ms. Hudson….what did your son look like” and after some though she said “He was handsome,  kind of toasty brown-skinned, tall, wore his hair cut real fresh.  When he was killed he had on his favorite shirt – it was red, black, yellow, blue stripes on white.  Black jeans, with athletic shoes……” “Mrs. Hudson, that’s the young man who I’ve seen in my home, visiting my daughter” There was silence on the line for a long pall “Mrs. Hudson” Mr. Blake said “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I thought that my daughter was being fast and I was worried.” “No, she wasn’t.  That was Lester.  Named him after his father.  I’m so sorry.  I’m going to pray for his repose.  He didn’t want to die.  He was a nice guy, mistaken for someone else.  The only shooting in that community ever.  And he sat at the dining room table all the time to do his homework….”   Mr. Blake was speechless.  He didn’t believe in ghosts but on the real other hand, how in the world did this woman know the looks and attire of the guy he’d seen in his home without telling the truth?  He thought that he should move because now, he was honestly afraid to go back “Trust me Mr. Blake, my son wouldn’t harm a hair on your head.  He did the same thing each day; came in from school and did his homework and maybe he’d go to the Y or to the basketball court with pals.  He’s very much missed.  He was a nice young man.  I am going to pray.”

When Mr. Blake came home that evening he saw no signs of the young man, nor the evening after that and no evenings to follow.  The son had left for a greater paradise the father felt.  His daughter told him that she felt a presence but it didn’t frighten her and that now she felt none at all.  The two prayed together.

Yes, fact is far stranger than fiction.  Like a pointer on a board moving by itself or a man seeing a youth that left the earth far too soon.  Yes, the paranormal will be continued…..

   The polarity between value and meaning mimic arbolic and rhizomatic texts. Value is often perceived in objects and meaning through reflection. For example, the value we attribute to a romantic liaison may bear little resemblance we ascribe in retrospect.
   Value is generally fixed, fairly immutable, and determined by cultural significations invisible to the subject. This can still be amendable in harmony with a thriving subject unconstrained by those fixed systems. In other words, the symbiocratic and centralized, or meaning-laden and value based, can be harmonized in the creation of a fictional world.

   Many books are well written even without the knowledge of present day theoretical practices. An author has free rein to become psychoanalyst, philosopher, humorist, semiotic master, and creator of fantastic and believable scenarios. Example is better than precept, and action speaks louder than words.
   As a ten year old, my class and I were given a forty word spelling test to complete. I surprised myself, in the dawning of semiotic awareness, by drawing small pictures representing each word, instead of actually spelling the words. Fortunately the teacher was more pleased than angry, instilling in me the foundations for rhizomatic structure.

   A strength, and conversely the problem with hypertext rhizomatic methods, is the speed of transmission in the digital age. This encourages copying, mimicking, impersonating, and plagiarism. The same system that encourages the cutting edge is the one providing freedoms to spy on and monitor those who may prefer anonymity. It also provides a shifting landscape for those in search of fast money through deceptive means.
   In any case, root structure and horticulture are limited in describing written text. As any competent gardener knows, with the exception of tap-rooted plants, all perennials which form clumps and roots, shoots, and foliage, can be repeatedly divided. Even arbolic plants provide exceptions to the rule. There are banyan trees many hundreds of meters wide with trunks formed from rooting branches. It is impossible to discern the original trunk amongst the others.
   Maybe our whole concept is upside down. I gazed at a tree reflected in a clear lake on a still day. From where I was standing I could have sworn the roots were on top and the leaves at bottom.

                                       End
  
     Rhizomatic Fiction

Cover of The Twelfth Imam

Okay, so nuclear radiation doesn’t have a smell, or taste, in fact, none of our human senses can detect it. But 25 year old CIA Agent David Shirazi, code name Zephyr, has been sent to Tehran with one objective: use all means necessary to sniff out Iran’s nuclear weapons program and save the world from an apocalyptic war.

Joel Rosenberg writes fast-paced, twisting and turning fiction that captures the reader and takes you on an adventure in the mysterious ancient land of Iran. Parallel narrations take you even deeper into the minds of the characters. Most of the characters are fictional, but there are references to real people to add a depth of reality.

Is the Twelfth Imam a real person? Is he a prophet of Allah? Or is he someone much more sinister? This character: his appearance, his words and actions, and the signs that are said to precede his arrival are based on Islamic hadiths (traditions and legends which form the basis of Islamic law.

The political crises of the plot are based on real current events, with outcomes that could very well come to pass, as have many of the events in the plots of Rosenberg’s previous novels. An appendix titled “Notes from the author” separates fact from fiction and cites sources for the real events.

Page turning fiction, blended with well researched fact, is woven in with mind-numbing Biblical prophecy to create epic adventure that entertains while opening our eyes and our minds to the spiritual battles going on around us.

[youtube= http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmO8XJQKYhs]

Joel Rosenberg: Author, International political journalist, Prophet?

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In “Killer,” David Denby’s review of the Patty Jenkins film “Monster,” Denby supports the film as a work of art that elucidates not only the savagery of Alice Wuornos, a serial killer and the film’s main character, but also her more sane side. This is in stark contrast to Nick Broomfield’s documentary of the same killer, which presents her as nothing but a ferocious murderer. Denby argues that the fictional “Monster” does a more effective job in “bring[ing] out the humanity in a crazy person” (86). One of the ways Denby attempts to support his point is by explaining how the setting, the run-down and impoverished state of Florida, contributes to a feeling of sympathy towards Wuornos, making her seem more human than any other description of her life.

Denby starts his discussion of the film’s setting by talking about other uses of Florida as setting in contemporary films and novels. All these films and novels, he explains, depict Florida as a “bedraggled kingdom of chaos” (85), where life is too messy and poor to allow for success of any kind. Before even mentioning Wuornos in relation to the film’s setting, Denby shows the reader that no one can become a “coherent human being” (85) in Florida, or that no one can make it in Florida. Wuornos is no exception to this rule, as she is a product of the horrible society depicted. When she was young, there was “no one around to protect her” (86); she is nothing but a “damaged survivor” (86) of this society. Denby’s choice of words serve to foster sympathy from the reader, who is made to think that Wuornos is not to blame for the way her life turned out, rather it is the society that raised her that is at fault.

Although it may be difficult to make an audience understand the misfortune of a serial killer, Jenkins has done this with “Monster,” Denby argues. He concludes by mentioning the irony of the film’s title, which rather than making Wuornos appear a victim of the society in which she was raised, does quite the opposite. This, he says, is only a reminder that Wuornos was, indeed, a serial killer, and a vicious one at that. The beauty of Jenkins’s film lies in its accurate portrayal two very different sides of a character that, at first glance, seems entirely evil.