War, terror, hate, killing, rape, murder, molesting . . .
I am reminded that one day, maybe in someone else's future, they aren't going to put up with this shit. Someone will stand up to you and tell you that you can't just sit there and watch man destroy themselves. But you want to make it seem that you do care. But how is it you expect me to believe that? That your benevolence is true?
I can't accept that. No more than I would sit on the sidewalk and watch my son get run over by a car to teach him not to run in the street. I wouldn't. Why are you? Each and everyday I see the same shit. If you won't help, I don't think that man can help themselves. History has shown that we don't learn from our past and from our mistakes. Of course, you would say that is the lesson that you are trying to teach us. But can you explain yourself to the 9 year old girl, whose father repeatedly molest her? Does she have to suffer for him to learn a lesson? Ask the thousands of women that are raped in this country by the foul stench that are allowed to walk the streets. Do you think their suffering justifies your apathy?
"Anything is better than a picture of a child in a cloud of gas."
War, hatred, bigorty, and lack of tolerance . . . will man never learn?
Since Wilson Fisk decided to post on death, I decided that I might compliment his post with one that somewhat pertains to it.
Hel, goddess of the Underworld in Norse mythology is my subject. Hel (sometimes Anglicized or Latinized as Hela) is the queen of Hel, the Norse underworld and she lives in Eliudnir. She is said to be the daughter of Loki and Angrboša a giantess and thus sister of the Fenrisulfr and the sea serpent Jörmungandr. Since her father is often described as a god, although both his parents were giants, the same might be said of Hel.
What I find interesting more than anything is that in Norse mythology the ruler and personification of death is a goddess, not a god or male figure, such as in Christianity, Roman and Greek mythology. Why is that interesting? Well what more than anything would make death more welcoming, for the lack of a better word, than a female figure. I know, women say well for me it would. But a woman does not seem threatening, even to a woman. And cases of female entities of death, they are not made to be gruesome or terrifying. When have you seen a non-disturbing male figure that represents death?
More than anything, I guess it is my perception that I would welcome death more in the figure of a beautiful woman. And this rendition of Hel by John Romita Jr from Thor (Vol.2) #2 is great example of that. At least if I am going to die, I don't have to look at some goat-legged, pitchfork carrying meanie like Satan.
I'm talking out of my ass, with an excuse to mention comic books, a hot chick, and for some reason Hel's my kinda gal. 8-)~
Hel's possessions are described as --
"She has great possessions there; her walls are exceeding high and her gates great. Her hall is called Sleet-Cold; her dish, Hunger; Famine is her knife; Idler, her slave; Sloven, her maidservant; Pit of Stumbling, her threshold, by which one enters; Disease, her bed; Gleaming Bale, her bed-hangings. She is half blue-black and half flesh-color (by which she is easily recognized), and very lowering and fierce." -- Brodeur translation
Well if that was depressing or just plain strange, or made you want to sleep with lights on (or made you feel sorry for me, don't worry, I was lost a long time ago) I will leave you with something that will life your spirits. If you don't think that Hel is a hottie, you have to believe that Christina is a hottie . . . ummmm "I Touch Myself"
He could see her from behind. The room wasn't very well lit. There seemed to be a few candles strew from here and there, but they really weren't doing much to stave off the darkness of the night.
She was sitting on a short, velvet-cusioned stool, facing a large vanity mirror mounted on a dresser. She had the thickest, shiny black hair, that he had ever seen. It fell over her ears, some falling to the front of her shoulders and a little bit on her back. She was wearing a strange mesh-like tank top, that was scarecly reached her stomach. There was a tattoo of a woman on her back, that he could make out a bit through the mesh of her shirt.
He stood there in the darkness, hardly breathing. He remained still and quite as though he were not suppose to be there. A unsettling nervousness suddenly came over him. He wanted to walk forward. Her still, quite body enticed all kinds of feelings in him from head to toe, and a few places in between.
She continued sitting there quitely, combing her hair. He took a step forward, a leap of faith . . . not quite sure what would happen, and feeling as if it was the loudest step that he had ever made. But she made no movement, other than continuing to comb her hair. It seemed as though the next steps weren't so difficult. They seemed more relaxed. And with each step he gained more confidence. He kept walking until he was standing right behind her.
With no warning he reached out and held her shoulders, so slightly. He ran his hands down her arms, bending his knees as he continued down to her wrists. He softly kissed her neck, from one side to the other, as he brough her hands around behind her back. Holding them behind her back with one hand, and with the other, he plunged his hand down her chest, inside her shirt. He could feel the warmth of her body on his cold hands. The movement of her chest with each breath that she took.
He took ahold of the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it up over her head, and let it slide down her arms to where he held her hands together. He now felt free to feel all over her from her waist, all the way up to her neck. He brought his head closer to her, slightly caressing her ear with his lips. He could smell the fragrance of her hair, as a few strands danced around her ear.
He released her hands and spun her around in the chair to face him. On his knees, he gazed up at her, her aura was intoxicating. She exuded a sexuality that was arousing beyond words. No physical manifestation of his body did justice to the pounding that he felt in his chest.
He felt an incredible desire to be inside of her. To feel the power of her feminie wiles. The desire that every woman can place on a man. He wanted to surrender to her. Give her everything that he was and feel that explosive release of energy from himself to her.
But feeling her alone was not enough. No, he wanted to taste the woman that she was. Feel her flavor in his mouth. Taste what kind of woman that she was. He wanted to hear her. Not just hear her voice, but hear her from deep within herself. A voice that was a symphony of pleasure and passion. This was one of those moments. A moment where the anticipation could stop a person's heart.
Ohh my god!!!! I had the hottest sex dream about Mrs. W last night. I mean HOT!
So my children have offically reduced me to having to dream about having sex with my OWN wife. Ironic though that sex is what got me in this situation in the first place. But damn!
I mean it was HOT! I'm telling you it woke me out of my sleep and you don't wanna know why. That hasn't happened in a long time. I was like HELLO!
I would give you some of the hot detail, but I figure that you probably don't really want to know that much about me. 8-)
I have long served in the armies of Master Seven and the Seven Nation. Although there are always those that would like to be dominator of the world, throughout history, I say that Master Seven will be the one to accomplish this goal.
Being a General in the armies of Master Seven, I have seen the small and the great fall before my feet. All those that wish to oppose Master Seven must be met with my wrath. As a Summoner of Summons; Weilder of Buster Sword; Tamer of Chocobos; I have seen many many upstarts try and do their worst. The power that I weild has been granted to me by Master Seven, and is not of my own strength. My strength comes with my alliegence to his rule. I question it not.
Master Seven, in is wisdom, has begun a merger, of sorts, with the NightBug Kingdom, and it's ruler Mistress NightBug. I await only the command from Master Seven as to my role as General of his armies, as it pertains to Mistress NightBug and the NightBug Kingdom. I would humbly but agressively protect and fight for the NightBug Kingdom if Master Seven so commands.
I try to bravely weild the power that Master Seven has given to me, so as not to bring reproach upon him and his nation. I have protected just as I have killed for the Seven Nation. But Master Seven is not a violent person. He wants all to submit without the need of violence or corresion. It is only my zeal to serve that sometimes gets the best of me. So my only wish it to be able, if Master Seven so wills, to do the same for Mistress NightBug and the NightBug Kingdom.
General Adam Warlock 2099 -- General of the armies of Master Seven -- Weilder of Buster Sword; Summoner of Summons; Tamer of Chocobos -- Protector of all that Master Seven surveys -- Loyal to death.
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