Saturday, April 18, 2015

(New) "The Other Side of Chaos"Journey to the Center of the Earth by John Pirillo




"The Other Side of Chaos"
Journey to the Center of the Earth
The other side of chaos was as close as the Walgreens and as far as the Taj Mahal. When Erin got up that morning in the small town of Hoover, California, he was expecting to grouse about the weather again. It always rained. Over and over and over. He had heard on the news report that they had the third highest rainfall in the nation, though you would never have thought so with the horrible drought going on throughout Southern California.

He whisked through his morning rituals, shaving, grooming his hair, powdering his arms and underwear, and then slipping into his usual worn jeans and t-shirt. Everyone knew him in town as the t-shirt man. Or Jeans. He preferred Jeans, it sounded cool.

After all, he was a bright eyed and bushy tailed genius of a hippy. He had managed to find his niche in the small town, where the Sheriff was a portly man who rarely left his office, except for accidents, and the town gossips were regular clients of his. He always delivered and they always smoked. The new pot laws weren't going to cut into his business one bit, though he was sure it would in the larger cities for those scoundrels who brought the green gold into the country on the backs of immigrants and machine gun toting gangsters.

"Hey Jeans!" He was greeted by Molly Two Burgers. His made up name for her. She served the best burgers in town. Veggies. No one ate meat in Hoover. They were all vegetarians and except, for the Sheriff, who ate the occasional chicken sandwich, liked it that way. The local realtors usually discouraged any immigrants with big money who wanted to buy into the city and change it. If they weren't veggie lovers, they didn't belong there. Also, the local Mayor had made it the law that everyone had to vote yes for a new neighbor to move in. Course that was never done in public, the politically correct idiots would have had them sued ten times south of summer if they found out and they'd be big news across the nation.

No one wanted to be big news. A nice quiet leisurely life was the order of the day and carefully maintained in the open, and behind closed doors.

There was nothing nasty in it, they just didn't like the world out there, the meanness in it, the clambering and climbing over one another to achieve. To achieve what...a mortgage that no one could afford and the non-named depression took away from them and cars that cost a hundred times more than a person could afford. 

None of the Hooverians, as they called themselves, none of them wanted to be part of the United States as it stood today. They called it the Lost Continent of the United States, because it had lost its way and sunk beneath the waters of logic and reason.

No one bought into that trash about God ruling from the state capitol and none of them believed that all children were angels. They were only too clued in about how children were, and made it their earnest duty to see to it that no child got away with anything. Ever!

The way they did that was to make sure the adults always did their duty and that no child was ever spoiled. It was terribly hard work for the smoke loving, peace hazed citizens, but they relished the idea of bringing up souls that actually had minds of their own, if not as rebellious kinds as now populated the larger part of the states.

Evans picked up the morning paper that Molly Two Burgers threw down before him and read the headlines. "Two eggs. Sunny side up. Four sausage. Golden brown..."

"Yeah. I know, Jeans. And no toast. A bagel with raisons and cinnamon with heaps of wet butter."
"Read me like a psychic."

"I am a psychic." She laughed.

"Yeah. But only to those ornery citizens who make the mistake of touring our humble little town. Speaking of which."

He laid the paper down. "My bones have been aching for days now. And you know what that means."
She handed his order over to Jake behind the counter and he began putting together the breakfast for Jeans. He waved and Jeans waved back. Jake was deaf, but he was one smart fellow. He made the best organic muffins this side of...well wherever!

"How so?"

Jeans leaned across the morning headlines....Terrorists cut off the heads of two state leaders in the Middle East and cook them for breakfast. "It means we're in for a big...gigantic change of weather."

"Well, I don't believe that to be true, Jeans. I do see those kinds of things, you know."

He felt the ache again in his bones. It was like a low, low vibration that was slowly building up within his body. "It keeps getting stronger, like someone was pressing me down into the earth."

"Well you sures hell ain't no black hole, Jeans." She laughed.

He returned the laugh, and then sighed. "I sure hope I'm wrong, because I don't want no one to get killed."

That stopped her grin. "Killed?"

He nodded. "Remember last time I had one of these, Brown and Sugar drove their car off the rain slicked bridge into the gully where the river was swollen. They never stood a chance."

Her face clouded over a moment in grief. "I loved them twos like hell."

"Yeah. Everybody did."

She went to her phone. 

"Whatcha doing?"

"Making that phone call."

He nodded. He knew what that phone call meant.

She did it, and then returned. 

When his breakfast came steaming on a plate to him, he ate it quietly, even as more and more of the citizens poured into the small cafe to sit quietly, watching him. Finally, he finished, then stood up and faced the crowd of about thirty. The place was jam packed. The rest would be listening and watching on the video systems him and Jed, his brother, had installed throughout the town so this kind of thing could be done on a moment's notice without any great effort on anyone who might be inconvenienced to come at that time.

"Something big is about to happen."

"Better believe him."Molly Two Burgers urged.

Bread. A very large man. A baker, with huge Italian eyes and a meaty stomach from eating half of what he cooked stood up. "How big?"

"Bigger than your belly."

Everyone laughed, but Bread. "My tums pretty damned big, Jeans. You sure?"

"Yeah. Damn sure."

Bread, who was the Mayor, turned to face the other citizens. "Alright then. You know the drill."
Everyone began spilling out of the cafe, making it feel empty and hollow after all the humanity that had been breathing in it. Whiffs of pot smoke edged his nostrils. He wondered briefly who had been dabbling, then forgot it when Bread came over and sat next to him. He motioned Jeans to sit and he did.

"Weather like last?"

"No. Definitely not weather. Not that kind at least."

"Can you at least give us a hint of what's coming?"

Jeans hated doing it, but he knew it was a necessity. So he sat down on the floor and fell into his lotus meditation position. He let the world slip away and allowed himself to drift with the cosmos, his senses heightened and alert like a young kids. He felt the thrumming feeling again in his body, but this time it was more tangible, more palpable, as if it had a life of its own. He followed the vibration with his mind and found himself drifting not upwards...where rain and storms might be, but instead down. He felt himself accelerating and going further and further down.

He knew his body at that moment was sweating as if he were in a sauna, his heart palpitating from the effort of his descent, and then he saw it.

He screamed!

Bread and Molly Two Burgers had his body between them, his head in her lap. He opened his eyes. "It's horrible. We can't beat this one."

Bread and Molly Two Burgers looked shaken to their cores.

"There must be something we can do?" Bread urged.

"Yes. There is."

Jeans sat up slowly, wiping at the sweat of his forehead. "Everyone must sleep outside from this moment on. No one stays indoors. No one travels on the bridges, or on the waters. Make sure all our flammables are safely secured. Shore up our food and water supplies."

"Just what are we protecting ourselves from, Jeans?" Bread said as he got up to carry out the suggestions.

"The Big One. A holy god smacking, end of the world, up our ass, dead in the water, god forsaken Big One!"

They all headed in different directions, intent on making sure everyone was as safe as possible. They spent the next four days outside in tents, even when it began to freeze and huge winds began to blow, threatening to destroy their temporary shelters.

Then in the AM of the last day, when everyone began to doubt Jeans and his bones, the earth began to tremble. At first lightly. Jeans felt it in his bones the most. It became so intense he screamed in pain, and then all hell broke loose.

It was like someone had tossed a Nuke into the center of the town. They all fell to the ground as it struck, but no one's eyes left the town view, even as they were tossed and turned like eggs in a skillet by the violence of the shaking. It felt as if God himself had grown angry and decided to smash the earth with his cosmic fist.

Every single building in the town crumbled like a giant fist had whacked them. The two local bridges broke apart and plummeted into the gulches below them. The huge water tower that supplied the town fell over and a flood of water rushed towards everyone, but no one drowned, because their tents were on high ground.

But some were hurt, though precious few, by falling trees. Every single tree for miles was struck down like matchsticks broken by a massive hammer. Children cried out in terror, Bread felt his stomach flip flop as if it might never stop. Molly Two Burgers enfolded her twins in her arms and Jeans did the same, protecting them from flying debris made from the falling trees.

And when it finally ended, when the terror and destruction ended, what remained of Hoover was a huge chasm in the ground. But not one person had died. Nor would they. They had obeyed the laws of common sense and not ignored the warnings that had come to them, however unscientifically through Jeans.

And Jeans. Well, he had managed to save his crop and they might struggle a bit for awhile to get their food supplies back to normal again, but no one would run out of smokes.

And one more thing happened, Jeans never meditated again after that. What he had seen had changed him. He stopped smoking the green gold or any other color. He sold it to administer relief to those who needed it, but he refused to ever touch it again. Part of him knew that what had happened was more than an accident, for he had seen the source of the Big One. He never told one person what he had seen and never would, for fear of what it might draw to them if he did. No, instead he dedicated his time to helping the others rebuild their homes, plant crops, and heal the sick. Jeans had become a kind of saint in a way. Even if by accident.


Star Wars: The Force Awakens Special Extended Fan Trailer....really well put together, tying many pieces into one.


The Shadow of Golden Age Pulp Fiction and Movie Serials











An experiment in 3D Character Desgin.




Two Daz images of a beautiful 3d woman dancing.





Top Ten Bruce Lee Moments---the kung fu star whose shriek caused martial arts experts to cringe.


(New) Robinson Crusoe on Clipper Island Chapter 6


Friday, April 17, 2015

Five Ultraman Clips


Monsters: Dark Continent Film Preview


The Monster Jungle Lord Story by John Pirillo



The Monster
Jungle Lord Story
by John Pirillo
 
Edging. Slithering. The thick fanged fern bit at the form as it pushed, shoved, cut its way forward, making sure that its track was covered as it moved, that its movements were as veiled as possible. A baby Dorset...a brightly plumed bird with feathers that spread from behind its tail like a gigantic fan in all colors of the rainbow tensed, its beaked nose sniffing at the air. It was one of the few creatures of the jungle that might scent the Monster making its way to its goal, but even that creature made the mistake of dismissing the scent.

They were intelligent in their own ways, but it was more so, and cunning, swift and final, like a knife thrown silently, but surely to its target.

The fern thickened into tiny elephant brush, which the natives had borrowed from a land they had heard of from a long time ago before they were migrated to Fairie in mass movements that caused the lives of so many. But desperate and anxious to escape the tyranny of the white races, they had risked everything in the hopes of finding the Promised Land. The land that the Great White One had sworn would bring them peace at last.

So the monster swept through the elephant brush as swiftly, silently and as deadly as it did through the fanged fern, leaving barely any trace of its movement, so subtle, yet so precise its movements.
As it made its non-linear path to its goal it paused a moment to consider the clutch of dragon eggs that were held in the claws of an uprooted Thorn Tree. The Thorn Tree was a vast cluster of needle sharp branches that no animal or bird dared to plunder for food, and sometimes liquid nourishment when times were dry. It was vast and unplunderable, containing many poisonous insects that also used it to hide from the predators that even they feared. 

The Jungle knew only one law. That of survival. That which survived was fit. That which did not, was pray.

The Monster paused for several long moments, gazing at the clutch of dragon eggs, imagining what it might do with them, its fangs becoming wet with desire, but it was not enough to hold it from its goal, it continued to slide, slither and crawl relentlessly towards that which it had come for. Nothing was going to stop it, or get in its way. It was not going to lessen itself to battle for goals that were beneath it. It had one goal and one goal only and that goal neared by the hour.

It had been pursuing its goal for a week now, which would have worn out and exhausted most predators, but this one knew no such boundaries. It could subsist on whatever greens it could suck upon for moisture, whatever insects landed nearby for sustenance. It didn't need to eat so much, nor drink so much. It was trained in the art of killing and the art of survival. Both skills were highly developed within its being. 

If one didn't know better, one might think this Monster a god, for surely the beasts of the jungle who did not know of it, but who might, or had in the past, they would surely know this predator to be a fierce some and frightening creature...that's how powerful it was.

A fierce monsoon blew in, tearing at the cover of the Monster and it wriggled swiftly beneath a fallen log, burying itself in the damp earth, allowing the trickles of rain that began plunging swiftly from treetop to treetop, tipping leaves and tilting their contents to the earth, causing swift running channels of moisture to grow into swift streams of water that carried poisonous snakes, insects and multi teethed creatures who lashed out at anything within their reach.

None of that phased the Monster, for it lay buried in the moist earth, a tube of a plant swiftly hollowed out by its nimble fingers, and planted between its fangs so it could breathe even if the water overtook its face and buried it deeply. It was a fearsome predator, because it knew no fear, feared nothing, or element.

It was master of the world it existed within. Always had been. Always would be. 

The monsoon was accompanied by sheer sheets of brazen lightning that ripped at the top greenery above, ripping branches from stout trunks and scattering tiny whirlwinds of burning leaves and grass into the air. Soon a number of trees were a holocaust of flames, but the roaring winds of the monsoon quickly became soothing and calm and the steady rain became a gentle quashed of the flames, once more protecting the jungle from the ravages of the more savage aspect of nature. The burning leaves fell to the ground and were washed away to the bases of the mighty trees about, and would in a matter of days crumble and dissolve into a fresh fertilizer for the green giants.

All these things the Monster knew. Experienced. Expected.

Finally, it rose from the foot of water that had settled over it and glided silently, but steadily onwards, seeking first soft land, then firm land, until it could once more pursue its goal. A goal it had sought for many days now, but would not be deterred from finding. 

A scent caught its nostrils and for a brief moment they flared in recognition. Its eyes lit up almost like burning cinders ignited by the monsoon lightning, then dimmed as the scent was carried away by a cross wind. But it was not fooled. It knew the direction was certain now. It was near its goal.But it did not hurry. It never hurried. It was precise and certain. Deadly and swift when necessary, slow and cautious also when necessary. It never failed, because it always weighed its options from every angle possible before plunging into action.

And so it continued its cautious path across the jungle floor, not once rising upon its feet until the scent grew so powerful it could no longer hold itself back.

It leaped to its feet, several hundred pounds of killing muscle, fangs, with a sharp claw that could gut a dinosaur or dragon. It leaped to its feet and ran like the devil it could be, with the jungle suddenly dropping into silence, as it swept through fern after gigantic fern, and huge clusters of shrubs that hid its view, but not the scent that was driving it madly and powerfully towards its goal.

Finally, it leaped thirty feet into the air, its Fang arching ahead of it, then lowering as it landed nimbly on its feet, hunched over, ready to attack.

It's pray turned slowly around. She was tall, lithe, muscular and beautiful. With long braids of golden hair and bright, sparkling eyes. She held out a hand. "Come, Lord Graystone, time for dinner."

Lord Graystone sheathed his knife and smiled. "How did you know it was me?"

"Because no other creature would be stupid enough to come from behind me."

Lord Graystone laughed. "Or strong enough I imagine."

"That too."

She reached out her hands and he took hers. "You are the kind of Monster that no woman in her sane mind would ever turn away."

"Then I am honored to be that Monster for you." He said with a slight bow of his head, even though his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"But one thing I don't understand."

"Yes?"

"Why did you lunge from your hiding place with Fang in your hands?"

He turned slowly around and she gasped. Half hidden in the trees, but now hanging down by its one leg that was still locked onto the lower branch he had leapt over was another kind of monster. A pirate zombie. One of the Hollow Man's creatures. Its head was severed from its body and laying on the ground ahead of it. It looked shocked, surprised and desperate.

"How did you know?"

"Captain Nemo took me on a hunt for the creatures once and I have never forgotten its scent. When I first came back from visiting Sherlock in London, I immediately caught its scent."

"But you are miles from where you returned."

He smiled and took her into his arms and crushed her against him. 

"And it was miles from where it entered, but not its scent. Their scent fouls the air forever."

She shuddered in his arms, then settled in and sighed. "When will this war end?"

She could feel his proud heart beating powerfully in his chest. His long hair flowed into her own, the scent of the jungle thick upon it. She breathed in the muskiness of his scent and savored the strength of his powerful muscles that held and protected her. She could almost feel the heat of his brilliant mind burning furiously with thoughts as he considered her statement. Never one to be in a hurry, he would weigh and consider her thought before dismissing it if necessary or adding to it, also if necessary. He was not her master, but her one and true friend, and neither held anything from the other.

"Does it matter when or where, as long as we have each other?" He finally spoke, his words tender with the only kind of warmth she had come to know from him.

She looked up at him. "There is one monster that neither you nor I can defeat."

He shrugged. "The Monster you speak of can be our friend or our enemy. I prefer to worry about the Monsters I can see and touch."

She laughed, and then they kissed a long, long time.

And about them the jungle began to come back to life again, with hoots and calls, slithers and slithering, brushes and brushing as creatures, both tiny and large came from hiding and roamed once more freely in search of food. The foul stench of the Hollow Man's creature was fading from the air and with it the threat of a pending doom, which for now at least, was quashed.

New Fractal Flame Gallery added.











Added five more blog posts to my Baker Street Universe blog.


Added five more blog posts to my Baker Street Universe blog.

Movie, articles and story.

CLICK HERE to go directly to the blog.

The Invisible Man...a BBC six part serial. based on H.G. Wells novella, The Invisible Man.



The Invisible Man is a six-part television serial based on the science fiction/fantasy novella by H. G. Wells, screened by the BBC in the UK throughout September and October 1984. It was produced as part of the BBC 1 Classic Serial strand, which incorporated numerous television adaptations of classic novels screened in serial form on Sunday afternoons. Starring Pip Donaghy in the title role, the series follows the same plot as the original book, of a deranged scientist who discovers a formula by which to make himself invisible, but is driven to insanity by his inability to reverse the formula and is evoked to use his invisibility to terrorize those around him. Out of all the numerous film and TV versions of H. G. Wells' book, this remains to date the most faithful to the original text. The series was adapted by James Andrew Hall and directed by Brian Lighthill.

Robinson Crusoe on Clipper Island, Chapter Five


Mala is a Polynesian spy in the employ of U.S. Intelligence investigates sabotage on Clipper Island. A gang of spies causes the eruption of a volcano, for which our hero is blamed. He convinces the local Princess Melani of his innocence and helps her ward off a takeover by rival high priest Porotu.

The Baker Street Universe has two new blogs!


I just finished posting a very nice article on the birth of Sherlock Holmes. Part One as a matter of fact. I also posted the sixth movie of the Sherlock Holmes series as well: Sherlock Holmes Faces Death! It stars the great actors Nigel Bruce and Basil Rathbone.


You can go directly to The Baker Street Universe by double clicking HERE.

Enjoy!

John