Rambles

Stream of thought 1.0

A warm, dim light that comforts the eyes. Rain that tip toes as it hugs the building in calmness. The whoosh of a dish washer that soothes the ears. When I sat down to write this piece, I didn’t know what it would be. A poem? An article? A novel? Eight lines in, it started to take its form. A poem, I guess:
I looked up types of poetry. Haiku, free verse, sonnet, but no bonnet. My car has a bonnet. Made of steel. That’s for real. What’s even more real. And certainly more steel. Are the Palestinians. Brave through and through. And those brave students. Who have nothing to rue. And those brave professors. Who have nothing to prove. Free, Free, Free Palestine.

Ramble 1.0

Once upon a time, there was a member of the bourgeoisie. It was a young man. A mysterious one to be sure...
His eyes glistened as he focused his gaze upon the noble Bob. "Bob" he exclaimed! What had Bob done this time? One would hope it was not a repeat of the horseshoe incident...lest we want another war that is. No, this seemed milder. It must've been something to do with last week's festival. Yes, it must've been. Just a week ago, Master Klingon decided to host a festival in honor of his son's recent graduation from the cycling academy. Fireworks, arcade machines, and best of all, free computational devices for all invited. It was the real deal, as is commonly said. Seemingly, any time there is joy to be had, Bob gravitates towards preventing it. This festival was no different. Bam! The...

Ramble 2.0

Bam! The dust became unsettled. What had just precipitated was like nothing before, and likely nothing after. The computational devices became animated, as if they were filled with rage and angst.
They caused trembles to coarse through the floors and shook the foundations of the palace as they arose. They scanned their surroundings with their hollowing screens and took note of everyone’s location. Oddly, and one should say... unsurprisingly, they seemed to focus on Bob. The 11 or so computers decided to focus their computes on him. One after the other, computers were completed, further enhancing the machines' understanding of Bob. Once he realized what was beginning to take place he tried an elaborate ruse to bring their attention to our mysterious protagonist, Pip. He began throwing things towards Pip, following that, he made claims that Pip was intent on hurting the computational devices. Unfortunately, his plan had worked. Bzzz, pop, fizz! They clamored their way to height to get a better vantage of Pip. "Watch out!"...

Ramble 3.0

"Watch out!" shouted Pip's father, Cromulues the fifth. In the blink of an eye, Pip had been knocked unconscious by a compute bomb.
Gasps echoed in the halls. Shock. Then anger. Panic. If the commotion caused by the computers could be compared to an earthquake, Pip's collapse caused a supervolcano of a reaction. Clink. Clank. The computational devices crept towards Pip in an eccentric manner. Still, no one had any clue as to why they had become animated, and what they sought with Pip. They formed something of a circle around the dazed Pip and began converging on him. Uh oh. This looked bad. Really bad. What was next? Were they about to end Pip's life right then and there? As they grew closer to Pip, they obscured everyone’s view. A light grew from within their circle. Not quite pink but not quite green. It grew in intensity until no one could keep their eyes open. In a flash, they were gone. Pip too. In the corner, Master Klingon's son, Rowser sneered as everyone else had become pale from the events that had just occurred. Cromulues noticed and became infuriated. How dare someone sneer just as his son had gone missing. Enraged, he made his way towards Rowser. "Why are you smiling! Is this some sort of ploy!?!" exclaimed Cromulues. Rowser retorted "Why so sad old man. I did us all a favor." A knife? Yes! A knife. Cromulues had grabbed a knife and ...

Ramble 4.0

Cromulues had grabbed a knife and motioned to Rowser, as if to indicated to Rowser that he meant a fight to occur....
Without a second thought, Rowser pulled from his back pocket an inebulator. Pale faces turned a shade paler than pale. Surely Rowser was bluffing. He must've been. Everyone knows the penalty of using an inebulator on another human is life in a space chamber, never to interact with humans again. The inebulator is such a cruel weapon, launching its victims through the surface and into the core of the planet. Blinded by his rage, Cromulues seemed to not care. He brought himself three steps closer to Rowser, and, with a manic energy, questioned Rowser. "What did you do! Where is my son?" Rowser, with the inebulator still pointed at Cromulues, retorted "Why does it matter? He's with the computational devices now. Him and us both are better off this way." Unphased, Cromulues took another step towards Rowser, this time with even more rage. "CALL THEM BACK, NOW! HOWEVER YOU BROUGHT THEM HERE, BRING THEM HERE AGAIN!" yelled Cromulues, knife still in hand. Puzzled by his request, Rowser took a step back. "You know that if they come back, it won't be just Pip that is taken. Those computational devices have no master. Even if I wanted to, we can't call them back." Cromulues took another two steps forward, this time...