KakeiTheWolf

What many people don't seem to consider is what "social progression" can be construed to being. Social progressivism isn't inherently positive. The definition of progression, per the dictionary's definition, simply means moving towards a goal or destination. When you have the blind and uninformed leading the blind and uninformed, you may be progressing towards a goal, but it is not necessarily a good one. People seek comfort, not stability.

THE HYACINTH RAINBOW: CHAPTER IV As Matthew and the foxes walked on, they found themselves getting further into the fields, into the lowness of the big valleys. The walking was hard to do, because the hills were steep and long, and Matthew said, "I'm tired, can we rest for a moment?". So Red nodded, and the three sat down to rest, for they had a long way to go in their journey to find the five other brothers. As they waited, Orange said, "Look, over the hills!", as he saw Yellow walking about, and he shouted out to the little fox, "Yellow!". Yellow perked his ears up, and came running, shouting out to Orange, "Brother!". He quickly ran across the valley and met up with his brothers. Red said, "There you are! We were starting to get worried about you, little one.". Yellow responded, "I was starting to get a little worried too.". Yellow continued, "I was with Orange, but I wandered off, and eventually I got lost in the really big valleys. They're not for a tiny fox like me!". Red said, "Well, what's important is that we found you now, little brother. But try not to wander off again, please. It worries us a great deal.". Yellow nodded, and Matthew said, "Now that we've found Yellow, who's next? Is it your brother Green next?". Red nodded and said, "Yes.". Matthew asked Red, "What is Green like? I haven't heard you say much about him.". Red responded, "I don't really get along with Green well.". Red continued, "He was always jealous of my role as the oldest, and he always has wanted to be the leader, and fights with me for that role.". Matthew said, "True, but even if you don't get along with him, he's still your brother. Family should stick together.". Red said to him, "I guess you're right.". Orange said, "Green always loved the little oasis in the middle of the valley. Maybe we could find him there, big brother?". Red said, "That sounds like a good place to look. We should rest a bit first, though, as we have been walking an awfully long time.". Matthew said, "Then, once we've rested up, it's off to find your brother with us!". The three then rested for a little while in the plains.

This is a poem I clumped together at two in the morning. All things considered, it's probably the best equal line work I've ever done. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ev'ry hill is struck verdant, every valley to flower, beneath the blossom of love. Cherish it we, daughters of felicity, beneath the sanctuary of the Lord God above. Freedom tow'r, ring mighty with blessing, renew our faith in the branch of a dove. How, for the autumn leaves fall, does molt as well my heart, when I am away from you! capture can I not the beauty of thy innocent airs, and shy away shan't I from my due. For I offer the rose of my love, I invite thee to celebrate fondly in mine love true. Kiss thee, shall I, for ev'ry star kissed morn I shall bear witness to, for thou doth complete me. Let lovers' tales and dukes shy away from our lovely craft; thou art joined to me as I am to thee. Sweet vixen of the fairest way, allow thyself the hour of my gentle embrace, to be within ecstacy. Love thee, do I, with all my life, inseparable by spear or knife, unbreakable by any amount of strife. Let thy light shine with all its pow'r, for every day's hour, and let us turn away from the road sour. Whistling winds and soft rains' dew, may these things fore'er ring true, as doth be the love we renew.

All grammatical and spelling errors have now been fixed.

THE HYACINTH RAINBOW: CHAPTER III As Matthew and Red went about on their search, they eventually found the fields in which Orange was said to frolick and bound about happily. The meadows were a nice green, rolling gently along the hills, and they were covered in beautiful flowers and a lovely smell covered the air. Red looked forth, and he saw Orange in the middle of the field, playfully bouncing about in the blanket of roses and wildflowers the fields made. Orange was a very playful fox, always bounding in the fields, always up for fun and games with everyone he came across, rarely serious. He was a lighthearted spirit, which his brother loved about him, as they were often up for a nice romp in the fields or the forests. Red knew, though, that Orange was easily distracted, and may have kept him from finding his brothers. But he just couldn't help it. He loved fun. He called out to Orange, "Brother!", and Orange saw him and came running, prancing joyfully at the sight of his older brother and Matthew. When Orange came up to them, he said to Red, "Hello, brother! It's so nice to see you again! Who is this little boy who is with you?". Matthew said, "My name is Matthew, I found your brother in the forest a while ago. I'm looking for your brothers for the man with the odd flute.". Orange smiled and said, "Well, then, any friend of my brothers is a friend of mine!", and he rolled in the flowers towards Matthew. Red asked, "Orange, do you happen to know where Yellow went off to? The little one tends to wander.". Orange nodded yes to Red's question. He said, "He is in the little valley past the fields. I was going to find him, but I got so caught up in the lovely flowers that I forgot.". Matthew then asked, "What is Yellow like?", and Red said, "He is my youngest little brother. He's adventurous but a little timid. So we worry.". Matthew said, "Then we have no time to lose! Let's find him so he doesn't wander off some more.", and Orange and Red nodded to agree. Red said, "Then we are off to find young little Yellow!", and the three were off to find the next of the brothers, the little Yellow.

After a day shy of five months, the Liber Verum Laudate is finally complete.

THE HYACINTH RAINBOW: CHAPTER II After a while of journeying, Matthew ended up in a forest, looking for the first of the seven foxes, the Red fox. The forest was thick and winding, and Matthew found himself lost and wandering alone in the forest, trying to find his way out. It was to no avail, because every turn he made took him deeper into the depths of the forest, hopping like a bunny from clearing to clearing. He eventually came to a big clearing, where he found the Red fox, whimpering in pain, its leg stuck in a hunter's bear trap. Matthew ran up to the fox and pulled open the trap, releasing the now limping fox, whose poor leg was broken by the trap that was laid out. The fox thanked him saying, "Thank you so much for releasing me. I was afraid no one could hear my cries, and that no one would be coming.". Matthew asked the fox, "How come you're all the way out here? Did you wander away from your family, or did they leave you behind?". The fox said, "We got separated in a thunder storm. I miss my father and my mother, because I am all alone and lost in this forest.". Matthew said, "Why don't you come along with me? I'll help you find your brothers and your parents.". The fox nodded and followed him. As he wandered through the forest, Matthew asked the Red fox, "Where can I find your brothers? I don't know where they went to at all.". The fox responded, "We promised each other if we ever got lost, we'd go to our own special places so we could find each other.". He continued, "Since I'm the oldest of my family, it's my job to find my brothers. But I got lost trying to find them, and got stuck in that trap.". Matthew said, "Where did they hide?", and the fox said, "First is Orange. He always loved the fields, so he said I could find him prancing in the fields.". The fox continued, "Each of us are named after our colour, so that we can remember who is who when we are together as one.". Matthew said, "What are we waiting for then, Red? I want to see you back with your family just as much as you do!". And they were off to find Orange.

I am going to continue this story, but I have to wait a bit, as I'm a stream-of-consciousness writer. As well, I've currently got other projects I'm working on: The Liber Verum Laudate, the transcription of a symphonic poem I've made, the second half of a harpsichord partita, and the very much procrastinated choral dynamics rewriting of my first sinfonietta, Zauberfuchs. In other words, I'm pretty sodding busy.

THE HYACINTH RAINBOW: CHAPTER I A long time ago, there was a boy named Matthew who lived in an unhappy home, with parents that didn't love each other anymore. Every day, he tried to drown out the yelling and the anger, trying desperately to escape the unhappiness of his home. He would give anything to fix it and make it right, not just for his sake, but for the sake of the parents he loved. And every night, for but a few hours, he would be granted sleep, the ultimate escape from the sorrow of his life. So one night, as many, he went to bed in hopes that some fantastical dream would take him away and make him happy. When he slowly drifted off, he slipped away from the violent world he lived in and into a gentle and calm paradise. He awoke face up in a field, one full of lilies and hyacinths, and for a moment, the boy experienced his nightly bliss. But little did he know that this was not to be any ordinary dream, and that things were destined to become better this night. When Matthew got up, he saw a man sitting on a stump in the middle of the field, playing a tune on the panflute. Matthew walked up to the stranger and asked him, "Who are you?", but the man only kept playing his panflute. Matthew asked him again, louder this time, "Mister, who are you?". The man then put down in his panflute and said, "A sad man.". He said to Matthew, "I am sad because I cannot find my friend, the Rainbow Fox, and I worry about his safety.". Matthew said, "How can I help you find him, mister?". The man replied, "He has split into seven coloured foxes. Find them to find him.". He continued, "When you find the seven, they will reunite. And this fox is not ordinary, but rather, he is magical. He grants wishes.". The man concluded, "If you would do us this favor, he will grant you a single wish, for whatever your heart could ever desire.". Matthew then thought of his parents, and how this was the chance to fix their unhappiness, and said to the man, "I'll do it!". The man said to Matthew, "Take care in this world, for it is vast. I wish you the best of luck.", and he returned to playing his panflute. But by the end of his statement, Matthew had already dashed off, starting his trek to find the seven foxes of the colours of the rainbow. He knew not where to run or look, or what he would find, but all he could think of was that wish, and of his parents. He even forgot that he was in a dream, because hope had blinded him to reality, and that hope made him fight onwards.

I thought I'd put this here, since the version of it I have elsewhere broke due to site formats. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Before the shadow of the spire were begat, stare doth we into Time's cauldron and Terra's vat. Lo, behold, shall thee, Gaia at her heavenly looms, spinneth doth she the fibers of her woeful craft in lofty spires and aetherial rooms. So gently coiled are these, her threads to create a life vibrant, a mortal shell of wick and thread to define the soul of the world's trenchant. Taut and wrought be this soul, be this one bless'd and whole, the fool's calf he be, destined be he to be damnation's earthen coal. Crushed in ebon crucible, and yanked by Life's forceps truly, begin now doth the vibrant child his life, his breath in life unruly. Wretched caitiff was he, thrown to the chains of man, and fettered are the winds he bloweth at men that would make nil his life's span. Pariah rejected was he in the womb of Malice, sent to die, but crawleth doth that vibrant man through the mire of nightmare and lie. And woeful works are not soon undone, for the vibrant man is condemned to toil in longsuffering beneath the deadly sun. Unbroken and chained be that vibrant man in no era soon, thy crafts brought his body low and burned him by the fire of the reddened moon. Unholy and wizened, in path confounded and unclear, was this man before the fires of Misery and Hate, his form unspun by twin doors' leer. Ugly and rotten before the world of fire, was that vibrant man, whose onyx tears upon the ignorant life hath their course they would have ran. Urchin, coiled around the pyre of f@&#!ts and ilex. for the years of his captors, would be under thumb of gravity under gaily spun man's hex. Cough doth he, that broken vibrant man of woe, whose rainbow wings are shattered as glass in the mud, cries as he is brought low. Lament doth he, that freedom taken, that he is cast in the metal mold of the world that hath upon which his body tongues of fire would awaken. Nightshade curse upon his limbs, cast away for what thou shalt call sin, weep would any good child for the vibrant man thou hath stretched thin. Pour thy lacriment out for this woeful confused beast, you angels who watcheth the Earth and her sins take the vibrant man's for their feast! He shall be despised as he wears the robe of the rainbow skies, and he shall never be freedom of scorn and shame in his life of lies. Though he was wrought of rainbow yarn, the Earth forbids his way, and crushed under their law of what he cannot do in manner free and gay. Requiem composed for he, despise shall he his life, where nothing sacred would tear him apart from his madness born of his strife. So weep for that broken vibrant man, that man who did no wrong, for he is wretched and despised, his life is not his and he does not belong.

There was a time when I was a good writer. That time has come and gone. My vocabulary has shrunk, circumstances have turned me cold and emotionless, and I simply can't blossom like I used to. Do I miss writing the way I used to? Yes, I do. Once writing became difficult, I turned my hand to music. Knowing no theory and having fine motor skill issues, that is hard, and even after the short time I've been composing, I've found I'm getting less and less skilled. And it's a shame, too, as I have a fantastic plot idea for a play/opera.

I would have liked it to be Black Marsh, but I won't get to find out, since TES VI will be for the unholy trinity of Xbox One, PS4, and Steam.

Unfortunately, we've gone beyond the point of correction. The Grand Supercycle has to end. With Obamacare as the final nail in our coffin, we face a looming threat of imminent collapse, as there is no winning strategy concerning the health care bubble collapsing. We could have done something years ago (a lot of things), but they won't do anything now. All we can do is sit and wait for the collapse of the global economy.

Easy.

The concept of free will and action is a complex paradox: we both have and do not have it. On one hand, there is technical free will. No such thing as coercion exists, even if physical elements force us into action. We cannot be forced to do something of our own volition, it is a choice on either the conscious or subconscious level (rarely the superconscious). Merely, there are convincing arguments. If you hold a gun to a man's head and tell him to do something, you do not guarantee cooperation. The man can choose to say no, and forfeit his life. You only presented a convincing argument; you can lead a horse to water but you can not force it to drink. In this, we have free will, that we can choose to do as we wish and think as we wish; our thoughts are our own. On the other hand, we don't have free will, really. Everything is predeterministic; given the same information and stimuli in any iteration of simulations, we will always make the same choice, as our brain is wired to reach conclusions based on information, stimuli, and evidence, and duplicate circumstances produce duplicate results. For example, say a man is walking down a sidewalka, and is stopped by a man, showing definitive proof that five minutes later, the man will cross the street and will be killed by a car that will run into him. This particular man is wired with survival responses that mean that he will stop at that street crossing until the car pass. Were he not given this information, he'd go about his immutable day plan, and he would be run over, because nothing would tell him not to cross. Now, if he stops, a different person will cross, and they will die in his place. Given the information, this would always happen. Our brains lack, in the truest sense, spontaneity; they only respond to information and direction. In a predeterministic world of reductionist order, this is an inevitability. Are we free? Yes, because we have volition. Are we manipulated? Yes, because we don't define the natures of our hard-wired brains.