To force the Holy into action.
To bring His presence
back into Creation.

I know your name.
But you are not your
brothers’ keeper.

Consecration
spreads it’s wings.

It is the force that
turns the world.
It is the change
that time cannot deny.
It is the dream
that you never forget.
It is the Shaman
with no regrets.

Jack
I Listen.

Poetry

This is not to say that I stopped writing all together. I’ve made a lot of headway on my two big fiction projects, The Cost of Magic, and The Tribe of the Star. The Tribe of the Star has taken on a pleasant change of tone, which I think, and my girlfriend concurs, will be much more appealing to the reader. You’ll get to see the first of those pieces online here in the next couple of days.

I started out posting The Cost of Magic here at Loki Listens every time I added to it. I dropped that in favor of completing it and polishing it after 20 some-odd parts. It’s become a bit of an epic work for me, being the longest piece of fiction I have ever written. It’s still a long way from completion, but I have very high hopes for it. To be cliche, it’s a labor of love.

Jack
I Still Listen.

Update

Electric Lights
—-

Minus was aware that he was unconscious. He knew he was seeing his past. He saw the memory from the third-person. He was shocked when he heard his own voice begin to narrate the memory.

I lie awake at night, watching the air sparkle, like electricity.

“I understand,” Othin said as the story came to a close. “I have a feeling I know your father. Let’s talk. There are two pills on that table next to you. Take the red one, it’ll make this easier..”

That little pill that tasted like jelly, was the cause of a grand awakening in Minus. Grabbing that electric spark had changed his life. Curiosity. Insatiable. And it would be that way for the rest of his life.

He thought about this for a long time in the black-out that was forced meditation.

—

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #21
Electric Lights
flashback

Jane Takes Matters
—-

Jane awoke to find Minus sound asleep. There was a note on the table beside the sofa bed. It read:

“Jane.
I spoke with my uncle not long ago. I needed more sleep. I’m kind of crashing around inside from the time in the bar. Feel free to use the computer, or the phone. If Othin or Doctor Mancini calls, feel free to talk to them about anything. They can be trusted. If you need to sleep some more, take two of the white pills in the drawer.
Love,
Minus.”

She thought that it was sweet of him to leave a note. She got up and dressed, realizing that she did not even have a change of clothes here. Maybe she could call Kotoko and have some clothes dropped by. Kotoko was sensitive to these odd affairs. She’d have to clear it with Minus first. He’d been so adamant about not leaving until they knew more. He was probably right, but what harm could come of a friend dropping off some clothes, maybe some fresh food and cigarettes.

Jane opened the drawer that Minus had mentioned in his note. It was compartmentalized into small squares and held many pills, several powders, and a few bags that looked like dried plants. She located the white pills he had mentioned and laid two on the table next to her wine. She did not usually start the day with wine, but it was kind of all they had, as most of the food and drinks had gone bad, having no one to clean them out for three years.

Minus had said in the note to wait for a call, but Jane was exhausted. She picked up Minus’ cell phone and went through the recent calls list. Doctor Mancini. It was time she talked to him herself. She placed the call and waited for an answer.

—-

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #12
Jane Takes Matters

Today, I’m going to talk about the magic of conversation. Ideology, in itself, is worthless if we cannot communicate it. The hard part here is that lots of people like to think their ideology is the only ideology that works. As long as people think like that, it will be hard to affect change. Open minds are the only place where change will be made.

If you can open your mind to acceptance(we battled this one already, remember?), and speak amicably with each other about what you have learned, and what you have taught, we can start to make progress as a society.

Talk to people. Lots of people. Every chance you get, engage someone in conversation. We’ve become a civilization of isolation. Do you think these attitudes and behaviors would have succeeded in tribal times? No, of course not. But, that was before we forgot about magic.

Jack
I Listen.

Basic Ideology 101

Battle #13
The Battle of Conversation

Things Change.

Jack
I Listen.

Basic Ideology 101
Battle #12
The Battle of Acceptance.

You see, a lot of the things you are taught in classrooms, or even on the job, is useless. It’s static information, that you use for reference. Most of the time you probably find it dull, but necessary.

Well, here’s the shocker. It’s not necessary. If someone took the time out to teach teachers about the dynamics of learning, you’d never sit through a pointless lecture again.

You see, the majority of what you have been taught up to this point, has been static. That means it never moves, and it never changes. But that is contrary to the way the human mind works. We are not static beings. We are dynamic beings. If we look at the same information from both static and dynamic view points, the one you are going to remember is the dynamic one.

Dynamic teaching means involving the student in all aspects of the subject. If you are teaching history, which has a bad reputation for static styles, don’t yell out facts and dates. Instead show the students how they are involved in history. Show them out it affects them now. Show them what they can do about it if they want it to change.

Dynamic teaching and learning is not only more effective, it’s more fun! People like to be involved. Everyone enjoys that feeling of inclusion. And with dynamic learning, no one is left out. We all get to experience the shifting paradigm.

So, as a teacher, and as a student, I am asking you to think about how you teach, and how you learn. If you find yourself getting stuck on stats and figures, you’re probably in a static environment. Do what you can to change this, and everyone will have a richer experience for it.

I could, literally, talk forever on this subject, but I think that’s all for now. You’ll probably notice a strong inclination towards dynamic teaching and learning in this course, and this will not be the last time it comes up, in a lesson of its own.

Jack
I Listen.

Basic Ideology 101

Battle #11
Teaching you how to teach yourself.

I lied. It’s not a story at all.

What is it? It’s a call.

This was brought on by a post my Mexican brother, Renato, sent me sometime late last night. It was a story of love, and loss, of pride, and attitude. Please, just read it yourself. Fair warning. It is slightly graphic. But it’s goddamned beautiful.

What Renato made me think of with that post is not something I can really even begin to explain. But, being the cocky bastard that I am, I’m gonna fucking try.

It reminded me of something I had forgotten. Something that I am afraid Renato may have forgotten by the end of that post. I hope not.

I had forgotten everything that got me where I am today. Some people might call it vanity or pride. Some people might say an undeserved sense of self worth. What I am getting at is attitude. I have always believed that my stories are meant to be read, by sanction of god, or satan, or odin, or zues, or who gives a fuck. I’ve always had a feeling deep inside me that what I am doing is right. No matter what anyone had to say about it. That I was walking that golden path that so many before me have walked.

Is it pride? Sure. Is it vanity? You’re damned right. Is it undeserved? Go fuck yourself.

The attitude that we own this. That we belong. That we are meant for far greater things. It doesn’t matter if we are wrong, because this is the only attitude that ever changes the world. Some will fall, some will rise. It matters not.

Change is brought on by the cocky bastards out there. Do the world a favor, and buy one of us a beer. We’re easy to spot. Look for the guy that has absolutely no right to be dancing with the best looking girl in the bar. Look for the lead singer that takes all of the drinks the crowd offers up, and still doesn’t fuck up a song. Look for the guy surrounded by empty beer glasses and notepads that everyone stops to talk to and buy a beer for.

Look for us. If we are not screaming for attention, we are drowning in despair. We will be remembered, because we will not settle for less.

We spot each other with a word. We are brothers.

Jack
I Listen.

I listen better if that’s a six pack in that grocery bag.

Sleep til We Die

—–

Minus drove with a fierce determination. He had not asked Jane where she needed to go. He had merely begun the trek back to his own home. Jane was silent the entire way. They pulled in to his gravel drive way after a fast twenty minute drive.

His yard was over run with weeds and flowers that had not been there when he had left. Vines climbed up the porch railings. He actually kind of like this. The heavy mist was present here as well. He told Jane to follow him, and she did so as quickly as she could.

When they had both entered, Minus fasted perhaps a dozen inside locks on the door. He pushed her through to another door, which lead down a flight of stairs into a converted basement. The basement was like a studio apartment with a wine cellar to the side. Again, he locked the door behind them.

“We should be safe here for a while,” he said to Jane, not shaking as much as he probably should have been.

“We’re laying low?” Jane was again confused and frightened. Then she felt the red pills hit. The anxiety washed away from her, now she was merely curious.

“Yeah, we need to be out of sight for a while. Figure out what is going on. Turn on the news, let’s see what we missed in the last three years.”

Minus was handling this very well. It surprised Jane to see the odd, awkward drunk she had met so long ago, acting with such determination and even a little grace. She found that she loved him. The thought had never occurred to her while they were in the bar. But now she knew. She loved him completely, and without question. That’s a pretty scary idea at twenty-two.

CNN hadn’t changed a lot in the last three years. They learned of a new president. They heard about some major advances in technology. But nothing unfathomable. And nothing as devastating as Minus had expected.

“We haven’t slept in three years, Jane. Here’s an Ambien. We can figure out more tomorrow. We’re safe here.” He handed Jane the small white pill, and a glass of red wine.

Without a thought, she tossed her hair back and swallowed the pill and wine in one gulp. Minus did the same, but Jane was almost certain he held more than one pill before they disappeared down his throat.

“Help me roll out this couch. It’s a bed, too. When we wake up, things will make more sense.”

They unrolled the bed. Minus fetched some blankets, and they curled up into a beautiful, dead sleep.

*****

At the end of section five, we see the close of something, and the opening to things very bizarre. Keep reading!

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #5
Sleep til We Die

The night turned into day, then night again. The two new lovers had drowned the world out. They left all the pain behind. They existed for no other reason than to make each other happy. Atom bombs would shake the world, and they would not leave each other. Strange things would walk the earth, and recreate it. But the lovers would not know. Time passed like wine from a glass, but not a day’s age could be seen.

At that corner booth, nothing changed. But even the bar changed around them. It grew in size, and deflated, and grew again.

After years of talking and drinking, Minus excused himself. He stepped out the back door, shivered in the winter chill, and lit a cigarette. He leaned against the cold brick wall, and tried his best not to think. Across the street an illuminated clock tower, on the top of a bank, told him that it had been three years since he had entered the bar.

This didn’t really surprise Minus. He knew how odd time could be. Outside his 28 years, he had lived forever. But he wondered to himself how many times had Harry approached them and made the same offer? Night after night, for 3 years? Or just that first night?

Minus walked back inside and sat down next to Jane.

He did not tell Jane about the bank’s clock tower. He simply pulled the brown bag out from under the table, and pulled out his homemade wine. Within a minute, Harry was at the table, asking about memory again.

“Maybe last night, but not tonight. Not ever,” Jane answered in much the same way that Minus remembered.

Harry looked to Minus, “Sir, would you consider tonight an occasion to forget?” The same line. His head was working now. Minus saw the ploy.

“I think it is time for me to remember, Harry. Time to remember everything.”

“As you wish, Sir. Swords to Rope,” Harry dropped only the bag labeled ‘Forget Me Nots’ and walked off.

Minus picked up the bag and emptied it’s contents onto the table. He knew what he would see before we opened it. He remembered all of it. The drinks, and the bags, and the conversations.

Out of the brown paper bag, fell three smaller plastic bags, and a small golden box. The golden box contained a razor, a tube, and 4 red pills. The plastic bags each contained white powder. One labeled ‘K,’ another labeled ‘M,’ and the third was labeled ‘A.’

Jane looked confused. Minus poured them each a glass from his bottle of homemade wine. He dumped out the contents of the golden box, and pushed two of the red pills towards Jane.

“Hold onto these until I tell you to take them.”

“What’s going on, Minus? I feel so confused. My head is spinning…” Jane trailed off, and took a sip of the wine.

“It’s alright, Jane. Someone tricked us. Trapped us. I’m not certain, but I think it was just me that they wanted. This is not the first time something like this has happened to me. My memory is becoming more clear by the second. Please, just do what I ask you to,” said Minus, with a ruffling of his eye brows.

“Okay.. I think..” Jane was dazed. Her heart pounded. Her head throbbed.

Minus was busy emptying the white powders into the golden box. He dumped all 3 bags into the small box, and mixed the powders together. He used the razor to separate the powder in to two equal lines. He finished his glass of wine and poured another, as well as topping Jane’s glass. He took the tube to his nose, and inhaled one of the two lines. He pushed the box towards Jane, and handed her the tube.

She did the same, bringing her line of powder into the nasal cavity. Soon she was wide awake, but everything seemed very dream like. She wasn’t confused any longer. She was starting to remember things. Things she had not thought about in three years. She was a little startled, but she realized that in that time, she had found love. Someone who would never steer her in the wrong direction intentionally.

The last of the homemade wine was poured into their glasses, and at the last sip, Minus told Jane to swallow the red pills.

“Be ready to run. Just in case. I don’t think we will have to. But be ready,” Minus looked at Jane with a fire in his eyes.

He started counting backwards from sixty. When he counted off one, then zero, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He stood.

“Follow my lead,” he told Jane. She really didn’t see that she had much of a choice. She stood up beside him.

They began to walk towards the back door, to which Minus had the key. The bar was completely empty. It looked very different from the time they had entered. Minus reached out his hand and grabbed the knob on the back door. He slung it open, and as he did, they were hit with a torrential rain. He took off his winter overcoat and put it over Jane’s head.

“Run to that truck! That blue one. Really rusty. Hurry!” He had to scream for Jane to hear him over the rain’s noise.

She made a sprint to the truck. When she was standing beside the passenger door, she turned to look at Minus. He was pushing hard against the wind and rain to force the door closed. When he finally got it closed, all of the way, he leaned all of his weight into his shoulder and fumbled with the key in his hands. She saw that he was able to lock the door.

Minus was surprised to find that when he took the key out of the door it had remained closed, and apparently locked. He shoved the key into his pocket and ran for the truck. By the time he got there, the rain had stopped completely, and a mist was coming from the ground.

They got into the truck together and watched the fog rise.

“Remind me to melt this key later,” Minus said under heavy breaths. He still had the cigarette in his mouth, but it was out and completely soaked. He rolled the window down slightly and threw it out.

“What the Hell was that all about?” Jane was almost hysterical. She was fairly certain she should be, but it was hard. She felt very in control for the first time in a very, very long time.

“Time. Time and punishment. Rewards for sacrifices. Runes to Swords. Swords to Rope.”

————-

At the close of part 4, we see the end of a story arc. Strange things have happened. Will you join me again to find out why? If you felt a little confused, it might be a good idea to start with #1.

Jack
I Listen.

The Cost of Magic
Section #4
The Passage of Time