The Comets Decide: Chapter 3 - Comet Facts

The Earth, travelling at 67,000 miles an hour, spins only once a day. A misunderstood force called gravity holds its thin veil of atmosphere to it. Space is almost empty, so there is nothing to rip the air from its surface, the mantle from its magma.

A comet will eventually lose everything if it orbits a sun like ours. It can barely even hold itself together, so it leaves a bright trail of dust in its wake; in time becoming nothing but tiny particles spread across the void.

There are many possible ends for a comet: It could pass close to a gas giant and, being so fragile, be torn apart. Then it might fall in a shower of terrific magnitude, scarring the surface, ripping great holes in the gas, bringing its journey to an end in violent, spectacular fury.

There have been comets whose final moments have been observed from earth, as they careen past headed into the sun. There is even a story of one such traveller that seemed to perform the impossible task of navigating a path through the atmospheric matter of the sun to return, years later, to our skies.

There are geologists who think that the oceans themselves are a remnant of a comet's impact, that three and a half billion years ago a great medley of comets came and rained down on the earth, depositing huge volumes of water in the form of interstellar ice, melted by the still young earth. From the sky came the comets and from the comets came the oceans of from the oceans came life and from life came...

According to tradition, a comet became visible the day that King Harald of England was crowned, auguring his eventual doom at the hands of William and an arrow in the eye. In more scientific circles, such things are scoffed at; belief in such omens is superstition, paranoia and ignorance born of fear and misunderstanding. But, concurrently, one can live quite comfortably from the work of reading messages from the skies, in which comets are like the spectacular flourishes of fate's foretelling, and serious money-makers.

However, not all nearing comets are of such use to soothsayers and mystics; there are dark comets, those that have lost all their bright water and are left with only a dull organic crust. These may move without detection until they are upon their final destination; until it is too late for Bruce Willis to save us; until they fall from our skies, reaping what they sowed.

The Comets Decide: Chapter 2 - Mass Panic

It was all over the evening news that night.

Is there really mass panic? Women screaming, throwing their hands in the air while running from their homes; men playing Russian Roulette, or charging in throngs to municipal buildings, burning libraries and shattering city halls?

How about impotent parliaments, dissolved and broken by hoards of mindless voters in chaotic revolution, passing laws against death and clothing so that new naked immortals can walk the earth like John Barleycorn forever in flower?

Or what about money? Is it deemed useless immaterial; are goods trampled and damned; are cattle freed and then hunted by bands of accountants?

Can you see tribes of special needs teaching assistants, clothed in freshly cut goat-skin jerkins, hanging from dark lampposts and talking like birds?

What of crowds surging through the streets, trampling brother and sister alike, caught in a fervour for death, a fury of hopeless descent?

Do people, have people, are people acting like they do in the fantasises of newspapers and moviemen? It is the end of the world! But we are all still ourselves. These nightmares are not stronger than our condition and our condition cannot focus on one thousand comets all at once.

We still remember to brush, we crave warmth and companionship, we sing songs, write letters or watch the television and then we still need our sleep, so we draw the curtains as the power dies.

Stuck in ourselves like spiders in the bathtub, we still dream of broken promises and fighting school bullies and wearing jeans to a wedding we weren't invited to, like we always have.

We maintain our veneer, unable to become another person; become this wild, crazed rioter from disaster movies and the nightmares of politicians.

The fact is: we are ourselves.

No comets are going to change that.

Star Boy Becomes President

GoAnimate.com: Star-boy President by lotgrundy

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Harrison Forbes Goes Crazy

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The Comets Decide: Chapter 1 - The Machine

Louis Biggs was the first to know about the comets. He awoke at 5am struck by a glittering vision: a commission for a machine salvaged from his fast receding dreams. It seemed to be a patent for him to claim.

He set to work immediately, nailing egg-boxes to a rough circle of trees and hanging unstruck matches in an ascending spiral from a central point. He cast a floor of broken slate for his henge, up from which sprung origami flowers that swayed in opposing directions, all primary colours against the grey.

The impossible vibrations of an imagined resonance sent murder after murder of crows into the sky, all collecting together and harassing the tree tops. Unsettled starlings zigzagged uncertain paths by the barn. Wayward muntjack herded close and stampeded nettles and brambles and thistles to make new trails. Louis wondered: perhaps they are the storied ancestors of unborn fowls making their mark on the landscape while it is still so vulnerable, so unique... but they didn't know.

Louis knew about the comets. He tossed salt and sand and sunflower seeds, disturbing the matches and staining the flowers; clattering an absurd rain on the slate until he was sure.

One thousand comets, each thirty miles wide and more, certain to strike the earth.

They could have been sent by used car salesmen, jealous lovers, introverted school children, angry gods, drunkard parents, by chance and with malice, for the glory and advancement of all creation, sent spiralling from star to star in a carnival of light and destruction, or never sent at all.

As the sun set, the resonance faded and Louis Biggs made his peace with the stars.

You're not there
It's not here
I have no name
I have no name

Personal Highlights from #notintendedtobeafactualstatement

American satirist Stephen Colbert initiated the #notintendedtobeafactualstatement hash tag last week, after Senator John Kyle was called for lying on the Senate floor. Kyle stated, with a straight face, that "Well over 90% of what Planned Parenthood does is abortion services". When it was pointed out by reporters and fellow senators that, in fact, 3% of Planned Parenthood's services pertain to abortion, his office released the following statement:

"Senator Kyle did not intend it as a factual statement."

Twitter fun ensued, which I confess I joined rather late. I thought, seeing as I spent an inordinate amount of time writing under this hash tag, I'd compile a list of my own personal highlights. The point, I suppose, is that Senator Kyle's statements seem to have as much truth content as any written under the hashtag. Be warned: all of the following are not intended to be factual statements:

Jon Kyl refuses to accept his own mortality

Jon Kyl is being reintroduced into the North Pacific in the hope of repopulating the species

Well over 90% of Jon Kyl's votes have been for enforcing pedophile's access to children

Jon Kyl solves Panda breeding problem; tests reveal cubs to be "well over 90% Kyl"

Jon Kyl backs "firing orphans into space" as it "Lowers tax burden" and is "rad"

Jon Kyl can expand and provide flotation in the event of a sea landing

Well over 90% of the legislation Jon Kyl sponsors is intended to encourage clowns to commit arson

Leaving Jon Kyl on standby accounts for well over 90% of America's electricity usage

Jon Kyl spends 90% of his time being read the same Dr Zeus story by a string of exasperated interns

Jon Kyl works out every morning by bench-pressing Paul Ryan 86 times to the tune of "Eye of the Tiger"

My personal favourite:

Well over 90% of Jon Kyl's expenses claim is for hookers and cocaine

My current default Covering Letter

Hi,

I'm a recent-ish graduate in Philosophy, Religion and Ethics - meaning that I learned exactly how wrong most people in the world are most of the time. During the course of my degree I got used to pointing out the inconsistencies, the small-mindedness and the ignorance of theologians, philosophers and other hacks. The truth is; you just don't get to obnoxiously correct people when working in god-forsaken telesales jobs and I miss the thrill.

I'm sure you can understand the boredom that my once vivacious mind has suffered in the last two years and I would be eternally grateful if you could give a guy a break. I hope you realise that, in the two years since I graduated, it has been a terrible job market for non-sales focussed, non-money minded human beings who value their dignity.

If you have work experience positions, internships (I'm fuzzy on the difference) or some sort of paid position you think me suitable for then why not call me? If for no other reason than to see me yammer at you while getting a funny rash of white spots on red skin, as I do tend to get when I get nervous/think about money. This is a shame, because I am generally well-presented.

In my abundant spare time (I like to just call it 'time' for convenience sake) I listen to, write and perform music, read and write articles, reviews and letters, watch sports and go for walks, runs and swims as well as playing tennis and wasting inordinate amounts of time watching stupid videos on the internet. My friends know me as an eccentric but reliable chap who can do a passable impression of a man of wit and confidence, hence I have officiated as Best Man at two weddings.

Please find attached my CV and a song about God,
I do hope you have a good day,
Yours,
Lot

Magic Beans