The tale of Arrie the Kitsune

Twas back in time of woe-sung rhyme
That one of the fox-folk, Arrie so named,
Did from the high mountains so wooded in rime
Came down to the lands of men to play games

At forest’s edge she went in disguise
Where the trees and fields make their meet
A glint of mischief she held in her eyes
For a trick or love to toy she did seek

Through fields she set off like wind through rushes
Arrived at the road near fall of night’s cowl
Feared not she be looked on, such is,
Silver moonbeams never treat he so fowl

How eyes do trick in the night’s light
None could be wiser to the maiden’s sight
The waving grain made a windy part
Silent footfall upon dry crumbled husk
Gust of wind rustled the tarp of a cart
The driver admired the cooling dusk

Enjoying the sounds of his wagon’s creaks
Wound down the road this village merchant took
As the way ribboned its way to the east
Never a rearward glance he took to look

Saw the heaps of thatch rise from yonder hill
Little known to his passenger’s fine feast
The little demon took up her fill
Enjoyed his shipment of fine meats

So filled with prospects of his new venture
Heeded not the puzzling sound of laughter

To the warm light of street shops she crept
And snatched up a dress remaining unseen
Unwatched by the throng she needn’t repent
Placed it on neat by two buildings between
Yet then by eye a luminent gleam
With a gander across from alleyway nook
She lent on the corner to gather the scene
Orbs of orange marched like embered brook
Demons masked in festive preen, lanterns took
Like painted pagans the townsfolk danced free
Music weaved sateen through the crowds they shook
Arrie smiled at the mirth she did see
“What curious sight” thought the kitsune

Needn’t she fear the scrutning eyes of men
guise she dropped taking on her true form
danced among the music seen as a friend
Intoxicating dew, firelight warm

Around the great blazes they sung their sounds
Of all mischief Arrie seemed to forget
Mask among mask pounded foot against ground
One foxian face shown through bare, there yet

Food and stories the reveled folk shared
Returned with steps of tumultuous laugh
Though some thought her tales were quite rare
Not one had guessed from where she made her path

With jokes and wit told here and there, Arrie did not fail
And she smirked at the compliments on the craft of her tail
The festival reeved with a drunken muse
Lines hand in hand ran through the streets
Salty snapping meats running with juice
Smiling eyes to joyous tambourine beats

Arrie drank nearly the whole of a cask
Witnessed’ agape with curiosity
How easy for her to drink through her mask
And wipe her mouth with ferocity

In the midst of the mirth then caught surprise
The watchful eyes of a man clad in grace
To show under her mask he asked for comply
And wished he to set upon her true face

Pulled from her daze she turned her back to him
And re-turned with a kindly illusion
Visage of a stunning woman she passed
With hair of black and eyes of icy blue
Her form seen kindly subtle, now while masked
Eyes met Gazing, dizzy warmth flutter flew

His face was less than fair as fair may be
held something yet behind those auburn eyes
resisted strange gravity, held she to see
her mind had set work on him with apprise

Asked he then with an outstretched steady hand
To join him in the last festive dance
Arrie the demon could not understand
How this mortal could put her in a trance

With the flutes rising she took the offer
Swept in the masquerade to his proffer
Knowing no dance, his guide was her portal
Lively the veiled casted their costumes aside
In bacchius haze she danced with the mortal
Less known her the truth to be descried

To his arms she fell, and he did embrace
The music background seemed to fall fell
In soft current of their step, all erased
Warmth of touch driving unholy impel

With eyes that betrayed, she looked upon him
An earnest presence returned his graces
Desire takes aside all forethought whim
In the eternity of meeting faces

Replaced with a whim of desire sore missed
Did in the harvest, the lord and the demon kiss
Be what be and be what may be said
What kindled with the thicket fires
That in her tale when awoke so fed
And lived new where lived her desires

Sprang to realize what desires displaced
Fled she away in the morning hours
Gone she was, never more a trace
Far to where lived her old powers

And when awoke he to empty sight
Recalling what in night he had seen
Startled struck with a sudden fright
And pondered nothing more than a dream

When the night winds swift  to daylight’s break
Not one sees the fox’s flight as they wake

Feelin’ Old School

The carousel of people spin
In the shadow of the growing din
Sing to me drunken muses
Oh Sirens lead me to ruin
Pour down my throat a thousand boozes
And steal me from my fortune
To cave garage apartments and cigarettes
Eager faces and revel spat words

Deep thoughts and charred regrets
Miasmas of potions and herbs
Let the savage pleasures take me
Around the thicket fires we go
For when the light of sun breaks free
The leaves of our youth will have flown

Yet life itself is but a page
Turned for us too hastily
Before you write sardonic wage
Write how the marrow of life has graced thee
In drunken fights and careless blaze
In reckless words and sweet caress
In third eyes and Smokey haze
In hard chests and perfect breasts
Fear not age or disappointment
Your days are far from hell
Fend off those grim appointments
And drink from the spirited well
Tumble among the leaves
And recall the tops of the trees
For Life is a drought of many flavors
And each sip worth to savor


Time to get it together

oH LOOK AT THAT,  seems like it’s Monday, You wake up and cant get rid of the feeling that all your insides are dry and dying. You have inexplicable bruises on your leg and strange marks on your arms. The room is a mess with clothes, dirty laundry, papers and all those living materials which seem to loose all significance at an 11:00 hangover. Your missing your keys but you’re pretty sure there somewhere in the corner of this one room at the house you vaguely remember. Ugg and that whole point when the person you were hitting on in a drunken slurr just told you to stop. Well there’s a great feeling to wake up to.

But it’s not like you can spend the whole day recollecting your life, NO sir. You have a whole lot of work to do, laundery, a few papers to write, and obligations to fulfill before the sun sets and another day passes.

So what do you do? You lay in bed feeling gross and full of regret for a while.


BUT THEN you get up, shamble over to the mirror and look yourself with your own bloodshot eyes looking at yourself in the eyes and say.



“Today is the day I get my shit together.”



The laundry you left scattered in various stages of being cleaned are the only close you have that aren’t covered in the weekend residue. Use all your willpower to collect and prepare the scattered articles like the fragments of drunken memories that come back to you. Pick a tie or some slacks to wear, Your gonna look your best for the big comeback.

Take a shower- The residue of irresponsible living is revolting to you WASH OFF THE PAIN.

Shave- silky smooth

Brush teeth- Get the yellow out of here

Eat- Most important meal


Well at least some of the colour had returned to your skin.

Now get out there and change the world!


Save the memory of this day because you know next week you’ll be saying the same thing.


There was a time when movies had an exhibition, characters were well developed with complex traits. They were dynamic and didn’t just fill some archetype even if they were the anti-hero or the Villain. Action was built up so that when a gun was drawn or the strike of steel clashed, audiences saw it drive the story and invested in what would happen. The movies of the 40’s or even the 90’s didn’t have CGI or special effects. It took ingenuity and cinematography to pull off a believable shot, and the humanity in the story was what counted.

I’m not badmouthing CGI I think that it can really make things happen that previously could have never been done. And older movies have their pinnacles, but not all of them were gems.

Never the less, CGI isn’t a get out of jail free card. The hobbit (1 and 2), Tin tin, and the Scroge movie with Jim carry among many other culprits have make the fatal flaw of sacrificing story for extended action scenes.

I just saw the Hobbit 2 so I’ll use it as an example. If you compiled all the scenes of elves jumping everywhere, Orcs and Wargs just being evil, Smauge getting trapped in wires and cables, and Barrel riding, you’d have a 3+ hour movie down to, maybe an hour. The scenes were predictable because there wasn’t the most brilliant writing or interesting character dynamics. It was “where can we get to the next plot point to incorporate a CGI battle/chase scene”.  The parts that aren’t numbingly complex and fast action scenes are slow and predictable because the characters are transparent. I’m not even going to get into what plot points were changed because The first trilogy changed things from the books too.

And lets compare the two trilogies (as they are now). I know it’s not fair because the Lord of the Rings was groundbreaking, well written and they stood alone as great films. But I’m just going to stress the point that they did more with less aiding them. Lets not forget that there was plenty of CGI in the lord of the rings movies. Not the crazy stuff now, but 2001 CGI which was painfully less advanced. The difference is how they employed it.

If you look at the Balrog scene “You shall not pass”. The Balrog is CGI. But the color scheme covered up the fact. The Dark shadows and the Bright orange flame. Armies ready for battle from a distance. The story still had to drive those movies and the believability of it was helped when  pointless action wasn’t the main focus.

I mean why would you care about a dramatic exchange of dialog between two main characters when you can see a dragon become encased in gold?

You cant blame a tool for mistakes and having action for the expense of story doesn’t help your movie become great.

The significance of dreams

We are not only completely not in the world we think we live in, we see vivid and sometimes startling hallucinations, and then we shrug them off and probably forget most of them anyway to pursue a world in which the only real difference is that we are all just a little more used to how it works.

I know I’m someone who never really remembers dreams but every once in a while you’re just in some other world where the  limitations and rules just don’t apply. Not that this is news to anyone, we are all familiar with the phenomena, but that 1% that sticks with you, that 1% of the time where you wake up and the strange images and writings and languages are all still reeling in your memory as if it happened years ago but just then.

It’s disorienting when you have things to do in the next five minutes where a second before you were somehow flying through multidimensional riffs, talking to old friends, or trying to understand a clock, moving through strange spaces which don’t make sense, and wading through the lapse of each thought and image building off each other at super speed.

To go from that to, walking somewhere, talking to people, making real decisions, it’s something that will put a strange contemplative uncertainty on the memories that relates to: “just a dream” and shrug it off, or something you should try to hold on to. How does that effect my life? why did that 1% happen today?

You can really relate the “just a dream” philosophy to other similar experiences. Should something found in an altered state be taken for face value or do we need to pick the truths we like to hear? Maybe it’s all truth in some way, even the nonsense, what if especially the nonsense?

Well I’m not gonna get all 1000 level philosophy on you but it’s just something to think about.


Life is not a process of getting to some plateau where everything is fine and every objective is completed. Society isn’t some entity that will solve all of our problems. Once a problem in the past is dealt with a new one arises. A triumph in the moment becomes the watermark of your trajectory and you wonder if that really was a triumph or something that makes you worse off in the end.  You are constantly battling the forces around you, who these other people are and what’s expected of you while at the same time you battle yourself  in whether you’re making the right decisions. What type of person  you are becoming, who have you become takes on a dark beast inside of you. In the moment you feel that you are exactly who you want to be and are comfortable, there is always lingering that something might be missing.

At the same time all those around you try to pick apart what you really are.

Maybe the ancient Nords had the right mentality. Not necessarily going off and killing people, but sallying forth into the world with your armor and sword just for the joy of playing the game of life.  I sometimes wish I could just detach myself a bit more or take on a more concrete philosophy.

The High points come with the low and vice Versa. perspective is everything, but when things don’t line up, and the world is all around you and you know it could just continue on without you just fine. When love is beyond your grasp and your looking for something better than all the bullshit rules of engagement. Or when the place you’re in grows stale and those ideas and theories that were full of passion have become something else. When you look back at times in your life with regret and fear for the future. That is when the enduring spirit must come through you.

Words have meaning, and even though people exaggerate now more than ever, when someone is sad, they are in a low place. If things feel as though they are falling apart around you, or that no one cares, or that you can never become anything greater than where you think you are.

Remember that there is greatness within you. You hold all the potential of the universe to make things happen. Even the sick and dying have more effect on the world than those who live in their neat little spheres of life. Life is not always a high point and whether it is others or yourself that you are battling, you are the hero of your own saga.

And you have the strength.


Live on and fight!