w.&lt;br /&gt;He shrugged and stared at me with empty eye;&lt;br /&gt;The occult god was not from heaven-high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not look, nor could I turn away,&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Asgard awaits the brave to-day!"&lt;br /&gt;Into that blackness I was drawn—abyss.&lt;br /&gt;I shook my head, for things, they were amiss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"By all the muses, poet!" he then cried;&lt;br /&gt;"I offer thee Asgard, why cast aside?"&lt;br /&gt;He stormed, my spine an icy chill became,&lt;br /&gt;"With Odin, come, the sire of Baldur slain!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thou cannot have my soul, and cannot take.&lt;br /&gt;Go home to dead and leave, for heaven's sake."&lt;br /&gt;I, having said the strongly words, then shrunk;&lt;br /&gt;The god remained, and swore by World Tree's trunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Into my halls, and thou shall have rewards,&lt;br /&gt;The worst, if Odin leaves, it in store is.”&lt;br /&gt;"The fate I wait is worse?" I gave reply,&lt;br /&gt;"For none is worse than thine: thou fell from sky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His anger rose above the clouds at least;&lt;br /&gt;That god of death, the cold, capricious beast.&lt;br /&gt;"Are worse than Greeks and Romans, Norse!" I cried,&lt;br /&gt;"Did Homer write of toenail-ships with pride?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are clever, boy! But thou can not do much;&lt;br /&gt;The Fates are not so like thy God and such.&lt;br /&gt;Unkind be they, but worse some still are, see: &lt;br /&gt;To-morrow thou shall meet the god Loki!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But take what he away that thou can not?"&lt;br /&gt;Then thought a moment Odin on the spot,&lt;br /&gt;"And spoil the fun, the god's surprise-intact? &lt;br /&gt;Content to know his choice is worse, you hack!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"An offer worse than Odin's, this I mean,&lt;br /&gt;As I wish thee a Happy Halloween. &lt;br /&gt;But know thou this, I have been sickly-sweet;&lt;br /&gt;The trickster god will not but trick or treat.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The god then left me, seeing-eye nodding,&lt;br /&gt;To think of Loki's dreadful cold plotting.&lt;br /&gt;The trickster surely promised nothing good,&lt;br /&gt;Yet could he be much worse than Odin would?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Odin rode on Sleipnir, quickly gone,&lt;br /&gt;He trampled gaily over summer's lawn,&lt;br /&gt;And I, a shiver shaking frozen skin,&lt;br /&gt;Would not forget the olden god—Odin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='tracker/1971820708817831793-3979941733093790162?l=kryptoniankomedy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><author><name>Ben-El</name><uri>profile/09514984244150609918</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1971820708817831793.post-7955296542358308718</id><published>2009-10-15T15:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T16:00:45.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Philosophia Scientiae</title><content type='html'>“Ahem,” the white lab coat-wearing spokesman cleared his throat. “Now,” he said, “I think it’s quite clear we have a major problem on our hands. Many of you know what I’m talking about. But, for the sake of those few who may not be aware of the dangers ahead, I’ve prepared some very specific points to clarify the matter(s).” The spokesman, who stood behind a podium with a microphone mounted upon it, shifted a little as he turned to the next page in the pile of computer paper upon said podium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You see,” he continued, “There is a great risk of the situation deteriorating, and rapidly. The situation I speak of, of course, is the environment of Earth’s primary satellite. Now, to understand the situation fully you would need many years training in the scientific fields—any of them would do—but since you, presumably, do not have this, you will have to take my—excuse me, ‘our,’ as in the consensus of this panel—word for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“To begin, there is the rather drastic condition of life upon ‘the moon,’ as it is so commonly called. For—it may shock you—we know there is life upon ‘the moon.’ Surely you have heard of the ‘colonists,’ if not I’m afraid there is little chance of persuading you…” There was laughter in the press room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Regardless, it is pertinent to point out that if there is some life, why is it so strange to believe there is other life?” Heads bobbed up and down in assent among the audience. “I think it is clear, at least, that there are living organisms inhabiting this planet’s primary satellite… if anyone disagrees, let him speak.” None of the reporters so much as raised a hand to question the statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Moving on,” he persisted, “from that we can also conclude many things. First and foremost, of course, is the need for regulation. But let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves…” and here he smiled. There was light—almost guilty—laughter in the room. “Second is the question of microbes. We know there are microbes. For where there are colonists there are microbes. Let us hope they have not given any blankets to the natives…” Loud guffaws followed, and extremely guilty ones at that, with covered mouths and shifty eyes looking at neighbors for direction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, this is a concern also,” he carried on. “But even without intent, there are innumerable threats these so-called ‘colonists’ pose to the environment of the largest orbiting body of Sol’s third satellite. For instance, while many ‘scientists,’ and I use the term lightly, for they were of former eras where even speculation and philosophy could be called such, have been hung up on threats to life, we must look beyond that. Let me explain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You see, an ecosystem is a complex thing. So complex in fact, that no one really understands it. But,” he added quickly, “insofar as anyone does, I can tell you there is a high probability of soil contamination upon the object orbiting one of many other, larger, objects orbiting one of other yet larger objects that in turn are orbiting the Milky Way galaxy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I think, then, it is obvious what must be done. But for those of you who remain skeptical, I submit to you the following: In the few years since ‘colonization’ began, the temperature of the body in question has risen—albeit only in certain areas—by over one hundred degrees! At this rate, in one hundred years the temperature—albeit in these admittedly few areas—may be hotter than the surface of the sun! If this is allowed to occur, the resultant fireball may very well crash into the Earth and destroy us all! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Surely &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; must be done! But what? Well, it is not within the realm of my expertise to say, but I think it should be obvious by now,” he paused for laughter, which he received, “that the only reasonable course of action—and action must be taken—is to immediately abandon all projects for further terraforming and resource-gathering upon the imperiled spheroid. And anyone who disagrees must be shouted down. We cannot allow such things to happen to our most precious commodities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Although,” he added wryly, “we know the type of people these loonies are, and we’d be better if they did burn themselves all up. Unfortunately, we are all in the same boat, figuratively speaking, of course. In the past people on tiny islands thought they could remain independent, but the European Union proved this false. For their own good, and for that of us all, we must bring their self-destructive ambitions under heel!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loud applause rocked the press room. Afterward, outside and overhead, a frown darkened the once bright face of Luna.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='tracker/1971820708817831793-7955296542358308718?l=kryptoniankomedy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><author><name>Ben-El</name><uri>profile/09514984244150609918</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1971820708817831793.post-3524242742744290337</id><published>2009-06-18T21:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T22:04:52.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unseen World, Chapter 5: White Queen to King’s Bishop Seven</title><content type='html'>Lily walked down the long, lavish hallway with fine carpeted floors, marble walls, and elaborate chandeliers. In one hand she was carrying a manila folder, neatly filled with papers, pressed against her blue-flowered low-cut blouse, while she dangled the other arm artfully at her side, complementing the exaggerated sway of her skirt-clad hips. Turning right, then left, at the end of the hallway, Lily emerged into a well-lit rotunda. Although entirely enclosed, it was decorated like a courtyard; a circular walkway surrounded a gravel base sectioned like a pizza into four by further walkways leading straight to the center of the rotunda, where what appeared to be an old, uncovered stone well stood starkly. The walkways leading to the well corresponded with the four cardinal directions, and each was labeled accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the entrance to the rotunda, Lily made her way a quarter turn along the circular walkway, or just past the East walkway, her high heels sounding off on the light colored paving stones as she went. She opened, with a creaking sound, one of two monumental bronze doors, labeled above the archway with the Roman numeral ‘CXIII.’ Entering, she released the door, which closed with a scraping metallic sound somewhere between a clang and a thud. Inside was a low light carpeted corridor intersected by another, forming a ‘T.’ Along the top of the T there were four Red Oak doors, two on either side of the intersection. Lily opened the door on the far right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the room, her tall, dark and handsome new boss sat at a rather Spartan desk near the far wall, scribbling away at a piece of paper. He looked up, briefly, and then pretended he wasn’t distracted by the intrusion, seemingly returning to his work. But Lily knew better. First, she looked around to see what he had done with the place. &lt;i&gt;Not much,&lt;/i&gt; she noted disapprovingly. There was a giant vid screen set in the left wall, and an admittedly impressive-looking life-sized replica suit of Alexandrian armor, complete with sword and shield, against the wall roughly halfway between the vid screen and an unadorned single bed at the corner of the near wall. The only other furniture was a red velvet sofa parked practically right in front of the vid screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She made an audible ‘tsk tsk’ sound, and furtively watched his reaction. It was subtle, but blocked from light though it was by his long, thick, charcoal black hair, she could see his pale face, milky white like the rest of his skin—no longer tanned by the Mediterranean sun, and borne of near agoraphobia, it seemed—,twitch in irritation. He half looked up toward her before catching himself and returning his gaze to his paper, trying to pretend it was something else that had distracted him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lily whistled a couple bars of some elevator music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes?” he said finally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the reaction she had been hoping for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Alex watched as his tall, platinum blonde secretary, neatly arrayed in her trademark style—a blouse and ruffled miniskirt with floral patterns—seemingly glided over to the desk where he was working. Arching her long back, the slender but muscular fair-skinned young woman, in her early twenties by all appearances, about his age, bent over Alex’s desk, plopping a manila folder in front of him and opening it with her long, agile fingers. “You’ll probably need this,” she said with an air of command in her sweet, soft, almost lisping voice; like the foaming of the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex looked into her expressive, aquamarine eyes, ignoring the folder. “What is it?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Stuff,” she r