tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-175662522024-03-07T19:00:57.327+00:00chandybassChandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.comBlogger200125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-32368312214725704882009-08-19T16:05:00.003+01:002009-08-19T16:16:45.608+01:00ShiftI'm making a shift. I'll be now blogging from <a href="http://chandy.wordpress.com/">here</a><br /><br />I'm terrible in making things <span style="font-style: italic;">look</span> good. so any overall suggestions would be welcome.<br /><br />And i'll try to automatically direct you where I'll be. :)Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-8270632129864504202009-08-10T14:05:00.001+01:002009-08-10T14:05:10.881+01:00EmpireA long time ago there was a family in the empire. They were in the empire but they weren't part of it. Yes they paid their taxes and obeyed <i>most</i> of its laws. But they didn't go along with what most people did. In fact they rejected the central foundation of the empire. Well they found it tough a lot of the family held on. rejection, torture and death followed. <br> <br>empires changed, their foundations changed. They were no longer even called those things anymore. In each new age a new entity came which behaved like an empire. Each time the family had to reject the empire but rarely in open rebellion. In fact for a while everyone thought that the family were the emperors and empresses. These were imposters though. the real family still lived against the empire.<br> <br>The thing with the family was that anyone could be adopted. Anyone. I was too. And as all families go it's pretty much the same. some fun, some shouting, some anger. And the family still lives against the empire. Naming the empire is much harder now. And living against it is so grey. Yet we somehow do. Because the one who adopted me did. And he's the true emperor.<br> <br>A hanged emperor.<br><br><br> Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-54988411890695338572009-08-09T21:09:00.001+01:002009-08-09T21:09:52.785+01:00JonahOne of the weirder stories in the bible. And yet every child knows it. and Jesus specifically mentions him. I mean what's all that about being swallowed by a fish?<br><br>There was a talk today on Jonah in church. It was a bit all over the place but I enjoyed it as it set my imagination ticking. It's astonishing that Jonah gripes at God. And the gripe is not like Job about injustice, nor is it like the drone of meaninglessness that the writer of Ecclesiastes moans about. Jonah gripes at God for who God is. That God is kind and compassionate. that's his complaint! <br> <br><blockquote>O LORD! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing<br></blockquote>And then he says he wants to die. Twice. and that he's angry enough to die.<br><br>God does all kinds of things in this short book.<br><br>He causes a storm<br> He stops it<br>He gets a fish to swallow AND SAVE Jonah.<br>He gets the fish to vomit Jonah<br>He changes his mind about Nineveh<br>He makes a plant grow.<br>He gets a worm to eat the plant.<br>And through it all he argues with Jonah about his anger. Almost gently. Like convincing a 4 year old to forgive her 1 year old sister.<br> <br><br>I wonder about my own anger. My anger against India. Bangalore. KMC. My former boss. Evangelicals. Is it right to be angry? No. But it's there. Sitting quietly in the belly.<br> Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-36117576385272042582009-08-08T09:44:00.001+01:002009-08-08T09:44:50.465+01:00NewsMost news organisations gives us so called 'news'. But face it. It's ''same old' isn't it? Death destruction greed and so on. Essentially pure gossip. So where's the news? Well actually I do read the real ''news'. But not enough. I'm too addicted to ''same old'.<br> Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-16906009495612838502009-08-07T11:13:00.007+01:002009-08-07T12:46:36.401+01:00Music: a missing link'When the Music fades' is a song the expresses a clear and simple truth. Worship is all about Jesus. Many musicians have taken this on board in order to 'restrain' or balance their musical indulgences in order to ensure that what music happens is actually worship.<br /><br />I've heard many musicians pray that they wouldn't get 'carried away' in the music and interestingly enough that the words would get precedence. I would agree with the first part. Of course the focus is on God. That's what worship is all about.<br /><br />And music? What's that all about? In practice it seems that music is a vehicle for words. It creates moods. It gets people doing something together. But is that it? Is music finally like a spiritual car of some sorts? Taking people together in air conditioned comfort from one spot to another?<br /><br />I think music is much more. Music does carry meaning. Unfortunately in media saturated societies the meaning is often caricatured and laughed at. Slightly disonant chords immediately signify horror movies and key changes can be considered too dramatic. But I believe that music does carry meaning and I wonder if church musicians are completely losing out on this aspect of music.<br /><br />In the bible music has a hugely prophetic function which has not been dwelt on at length at least within my moderately narrow reading list. From the song of Moses where Miriam prophetically leads the dance, right to the New Testament where we're supposed to minister to each other with songs there is a strong element of the prophetic in music.<br /><br />Asaph, Jeduthun and Heman the big 3 musos of the 1st temple worship scene were all officially the king's SEERS. (2 chronicles 29:30, 35:15, 1 Chronicles 25:5) No they weren't worship leaders. And they were called to prophesy with instruments and so were there sons. (Prophesying with instruments also happens in the odd story of Saul where he meets a band and goes into a frenzy.)<br /><br />The well known passage in Amos where God says 'Away with the noise of your songs' has often been used as a message against wrong type of worship. There definitely is a strong element of injustice there but the quest for justice itself is a prophetic role. And within the book of Amos in 2:12 and 7:13 the human powers that be insist that prophets don't prophesy anymore. I wonder whether the 'noise' of the songs have to do particularly with prophesy that's been told to shut up.<br /><br />If music does have this prophetic role then it will be good to think about what it means for the doing of music in church.<br /><br />Maybe it would mean taking music a bit more seriously. It carries its own meanings and emotions. And a musician's excellence therefore is not merely to play in a way that won't be distracting. (This leads often to the middle of the road pastiche of sound). Her excellence will also be required in order to play what God is saying. There might be some things that God speaks through the music that he won't do through words. This is why a church musician should continually keep adding vocabulary to her instrument.<br /><br />And I think this same prophetic function goes for all art forms. Visual artists through painting and digital forms could give prophesies to the gathering. Think of the great craftsman artist Bezalel who incidentally is the first person that God says his Spirit is upon.<br /><br />This can mean all kinds of exciting and for me scary things. Doing our art and our music in worship needn't feel like singing to the air. The air might actually speak to us.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-40637664680684115382009-08-05T20:36:00.014+01:002009-08-07T19:40:24.213+01:00a piece of 3Cymbals whisper with brushes<br />and the sticks crackle<br />His arms rise and fall in licks<br />on the shore of sound<br /><br />The skins brood the air rushes<br />into ears forming<br />His feet kick and stomp the stretches<br />Up there and deep down<br /><br />Strings rumble from below<br />in the deepest quake<br />His fingers pick and strike the root<br />of the foundation<br /><br />The frets run wild with intent<br />birthing harmony<br />His hands move loose with precision<br />the groove sits easy<br /><br />Open and wide the mouth utters<br />a beauteous blare<br />His strong lips purse and blow the song<br />from the beginning<br /><br />Eyes closed in sung concentration<br />the tune is summoned<br />His body gives and blood flows<br />the note reaches home<br /><br />and the lights come onChandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-4662109533116561002009-07-23T21:06:00.004+01:002009-07-23T21:09:28.968+01:00It looks different but is it?Yes changed the look of the thing. One must do something while procrastinating important work. My whole life seems like a delay unit. But changes have been threatening themselves within me. I hope it doesn't hurt too much.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-63803756578640816642009-07-22T22:12:00.001+01:002009-07-22T22:13:53.076+01:00*dreary steps fill the visionChandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-56740402324901797582009-06-01T17:23:00.002+01:002009-06-01T17:29:50.079+01:00PrayerAn excerpt from John Goldingay's book 'To the Usual Suspects' based on Moses prayer to God<br /><blockquote><br />...five amazing things you can tell God not to do:<br /><br /><ul><li>Don't lose your temper</li><li>Don't give up with the job half done</li><li>Don't give people the excuse to misjudge you</li><li>Don't be inflexible</li><li>Don't forget your promises</li></ul></blockquote>Strange isn't it?Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-41905939337294032412009-05-20T19:36:00.002+01:002009-05-20T19:43:21.354+01:00A prayerLord,<br /><br />words always seem to be the last resort<br />but I long, deeply long<br />for grace to permeate the meeting<br />of two people so different<br />yet so saved.<br />May the wisdom that<br />called men to follow her<br />make herself known.<br />May patience the hardest fruit<br />ripen to juiciness<br />May calmness with a wave<br />of your hand, settle<br />May your love be allowed<br />to flow through their<br />rusty selves.<br />And if all goes wrong Lord<br />we know that you feel<br />the pain, the loss<br />and that you will work it out<br />some other way.<br />But I do hope what happens<br />would be the good thing.<br />Thank you that you indulge in<br />silly prayers. Amen.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-11745121758036876602009-05-13T20:22:00.000+01:002009-05-13T20:23:23.014+01:00MarkedA bit blown away by this<br /><br /><a href="http://www.markedgraphicnovel.com/home.html">http://www.markedgraphicnovel.com/home.html</a>Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-90361432451090898782009-05-07T12:24:00.003+01:002009-05-07T12:39:09.145+01:00The TalkersLook at him.<br />Yes him.<br />It's very rarely her.<br />He talks and talks<br />and talks and talks.<br />The people listen and sleep.<br />They listen and fume.<br />They listen and read.<br />They listen and get blessed.<br /><br />It's the centre.<br />It's never missed<br />rarely shortened<br />and quite often<br />the wrong wind.<br /><br />It's based on a library<br />one that I love<br />that I get lost in<br />that I find hard.<br /><br />And yet this talk<br />often makes me despair<br />for I do love the talkers<br />even though funny voices<br />squeak and boom from them.<br /><br />This is bovine gold<br />for the new nomads<br />helped across with<br />wireless but receivers<br />that are tiring.<br /><br />the bards realised<br />their own folly<br />and sang of it<br />but when will<br />the Talkers?Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-28052597737160574112009-04-27T13:38:00.003+01:002009-04-27T13:57:37.606+01:00Imagine or DieThoughts from Brueggemann's Hopeful Imagination: Prophetic Voices in Exile pgs - 23-25<br /><blockquote><br />1. Poets have no advice to give people. They only want people to see differently, to re-vision life. They are not coercive. They only try to stimulate, surprise, hint and give nuance, not more. They cannot do more, because they are making a world that does not yet exist beyond their imagination; but their offer of this imaginative world is necessary to give freedom of action. The poets want us to re-experience the present world under a different set of metaphors, and they want us to entertain an alternative world not yet visible... </blockquote><blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote>2. Poets speak porously. They use the kind of language that is not exhausted at first hearing. They leave many things open, ambiguous still to be discerned after more reflection. They do not pretend to know the future, but they offer the present as a shockingly open and ambiguous matter out of which various futures may yet emerge. They do not need to see the end of their words or all the implications before they speak....</blockquote><blockquote><blockquote></blockquote>3. The purpose of porous language is to leave the poem and the reality to which it points open for the experience of the listener. Poets do indeed trust other people to continue the image, to finish the thought out of their own experience. But that requires the kind of rich metaphorical language that is open and polyvalent. Very often people who hear poets want an explanation, which means to slot the words into categories already predetermined and controlled. Such an act, however, is the death of the poem....</blockquote>pg 26-27<blockquote><br /><br />In our day many in ministry are caught in bitter exhaustion because people seem so resistant. That resistance, I submit, comes from a frightened, crushed imagination that has been robbed of power precisely because of fear. Indeed, one can note the abysmal lack of imagination in the formation of policy about either internation security or domestic economics. We can think of nothing to do except to do more of the same, which generates only more problems and more fear. When we are frightened, we want certitude, not porousness. So the voices of religious certitude and the advocates of political domination seem persuasive....<br /><br />The practice of such poetic discourse is very difficult. It is difficult because it takes more energy than our conventional prose which is predictable and accepted on all sides. It is difficult, secondly, because it will be very much misunderstood. We are not accustomed to such communication. But the risk must be taken. Jesus' parables stand as witness that the kingdom comes by imagination, by poetic discourse. Such a way of speech creates vitality in ministry, because it keeps possibility open in the life of the community. Where there is not speech which keeps possibility open, we are left only with necessity. That is what the rulers of this age may want. But that ends in death.</blockquote>Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-20102672746638482542009-04-21T06:33:00.000+01:002009-04-21T06:34:29.491+01:00The strange sum of thingsWe often think that when we have completed our study of '<span style="font-style: italic;">one</span>', we know all about '<span style="font-style: italic;">two</span>', because '<span style="font-style: italic;">two is one and one</span>'. We forget that we still have to make a study of '<span style="font-style: italic;">and</span>'. - EddingtonChandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-23350475546774062372009-04-20T11:10:00.002+01:002009-04-20T11:19:48.422+01:00DeathWhy do we die?<br /><br />A virus.<br /><br />Some cry, some sigh<br /><br />some shrug and say ah well.<br /><br />She made good cakes didn't she?<br /><br />We should cry.<br /><br />Death is horrible.<br /><br />Asking why allows a basic truth through.<br /><br />Death is unnatural.<br /><br />A man on a cross said, 'Remember me...'<br /><br />The other said '<span style="font-style: italic;">Today</span> you'll <span style="font-style: italic;">be</span> with <span style="font-style: italic;">me'<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>Ey? What does that mean?<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></span>Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-84363468562128156272009-04-16T21:27:00.005+01:002009-04-16T22:46:08.963+01:00Truly moving or manipulated?Did you see <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY">this</a>?<br /><br />That woman is definitely quite amazing.<br /><br />But but but but but<br /><br />She's surrounded by media vultures and flesh devourers. Even the journalists who are so called sympathetic to Susan Boyle call her ugly and crow praises on her 'despite' her ugliness. True spit(e) that is. The privileged middle class Brit media are showing yet more signs of their living in their self made pie in the sky.<br /><br />I don't think she's ugly. I don't think she's pretty either. I also think Julia Roberts is ugly.<br /><br />I think Susan Boyle has awesome personality. But you can see how this is milked to the extreme. I felt emotional watching the video but I was pushed to that emotion. The producers squeezed every camera angle juxtaposed with the music for maximum teariness and throat lumpiness. Susan Boyle's voice is not that amazing. It is good no doubt but it's not as distinctive as Paul Pots the winner a few years ago.<br /><br />And of course the reaction was no where close. It's because she's a woman who doesn't conform to society's idolatrous worship of physical beauty. I pray for her that she won't sucked up into the evil that is around her.<br /><br />On the other hand this was truly beautiful<br /><br /><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oC4FAyg64OI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oC4FAyg64OI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"></embed></object><br /><br />This is a sign of the kingdom for me.<br /><br />And to make some sense of it all <a href="http://www.bobdylan.com/conversation">this</a> was so good.<br /><br />Followed by <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/04/13/bob-dylan-interview-talks_n_186297.html">this</a> and <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/04/15/bob-dylan-exclusive-inter_n_187216.html">this</a>Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-27838880350569184282009-04-14T16:24:00.000+01:002009-04-14T16:25:45.700+01:00StiffnessSo many thoughts<br />so few wordsChandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-91960486332997617332009-04-11T21:26:00.003+01:002009-04-11T21:55:19.584+01:00Artificial Intelligence and Wall-ERight. I'm no movie buff. It's just too emotionally heavy. But I do get impacted by them and I know they present powerful lenses to this world we're trying to wade through. So here goes some thoughts.<br /><br />Wall-e and Artificial Intelligence are centrally about love. Quite obvious in the case of AI where it's all about the little robot wanting its mother's love and more subtly in Wall-e where the little robot and Eve get togther in a jig.<br /><br />In comparison AI actually doesn't say anything about love. We're given all these subtle images of love between a mother and child with hugs, birthday cakes, hide and seek etc. but what do we know about love from AI? Love wants, love almost gets, love is satisfying. For a bit. Of course in the morning it's gone. But the memory is enough. It almost feels like the paradigm of a one night stand thrust onto what is a commonly held holy relationship between mom and son.<br /><br />Wall-e? A lonely one learns through outside sources love, music and dance. When a possible companion appears he tries to communicate. Cares, protects. And in the end is willing to give up his own existence as well. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love will sacrifice itself. Love is curious. And love is astonishingly creative forever and growing.<br /><br />And here is the odd thing. In AI love is a programme which is planted. In Wall-e it's something he evolves to do. Which is quite interesting with creation evolution screechings occuring in madhouses.<br /><br />Though I must say for AI that the real relationship which does actually shine through is between David and Teddy. Faithfulness, hope and eternalness. That's what teddy is to David.<br /><br />So there you go, no wonder when you preach about love you so often lustify it with love relegated to a small corner of the bed.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-54262736206172855922009-04-04T21:48:00.003+01:002009-04-04T21:58:08.560+01:00the sleepy eye flickersYa.<br />It's been a while.<br />And it might be a while yet.<br />But there is a sense<br />I'll wake<br />or face<br />a lie in<br />only to wake<br />when the old earth's<br />gone.<br />The semi sleep<br />of meshed mares and events<br />can hope to be over<br />in the opening of sound.<br />Then the eye.<br />Roll the stone.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-22370700746276824072008-12-20T20:18:00.002+00:002008-12-20T20:37:25.359+00:00the dream of another...And so they wait<br />until they fall<br />out of love<br />Or a change<br />crosses one<br />Till then<br />they will swing<br />on the highest<br />roundabouts<br />with words of jest<br />and mirth of love<br />seasoned with argument<br />and the longing<br />for presence.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-51682312754902371022008-11-30T20:59:00.002+00:002008-11-30T23:29:36.517+00:00Guns n' RosesThe first time it hit me. The riffs of Welcome to the Jungle and the screeches over it. A chord was rather literally struck and somehow it became the subtext of our lives. It was an entirely communal activity to listen to GnR and to air guitar it as often as possible and for the few of us we actually took the trouble to learn the songs. It was heady stuff. The songs grabbed us and so we wanted clutch them back in return.<br /><br />Chords and basslines were discussed and debated upon. Slash was guitar god and Axl presence god. I for the first time got interested in the bass guitar from Duff's lines. And Izzy's rhythm guitars showed such good taste and texture that it opened music up like never before. Yes they were an important part of my music education and music life. The girls liked them too. We tolerated that.<br /><br />The 'Use your illusion's came and the madness got deeper. But we saw the first fissures as Izzy left. I know he liked Adler but we didn't really care about him. But since Izzy had contributed to the song writing the songs still had their potence.<br /><br />Spaghetti Incidident? was something we forced ourselves to like. But it was just too much spaghetti and no sauce. And we came to the realisation that the band weren't really there anymore.<br /><br />We left school and saw crappy cover versions and even when pro bands performed the songs we knew when each note was out of place. And of course then the band all fought and left.<br /><br />GnR was a nice pitying memory. I decided jazz was my thang. I think I can count on my fingers how often I heard a full GnR song in the last 10 years.<br /><br />And now they're back. They? Well it's Axl... and a few others. But somehow when I listen to the songs it <span style="font-style: italic;">feels</span> like a <span style="font-style: italic;">them.</span> And they've come back at a time when I don't pretend to be a proper jazzer anymore. A confusing time. But I'm sure of my rock roots. that's what comes naturally to the fingers.<br /><br />And this album is an encouragement. Yes it's not like the old GnR. I would've been very disappointed if that was even attempted. It's a new sound. And some senses it's still searching for that sound. My view of Axl has definitely changed. I think he's a real artist someone who kept prodding and pulling and prodding and pulling finally putting together a piece of artistry that will sell and make an impact.<br /><br />Pink Floyd lost important members at various points in it's life. But they restarted and came back as a stronger and more powerful Floyd. According to some of course.<br /><br />Maybe that's what this GnR album is about. Another GnR, feels like them, tastes like them but looks and sounds different. It's not like them but it is them. And it's so good to hear the familiar and the new.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-58279862749007546142008-11-25T17:36:00.002+00:002008-11-25T17:59:35.272+00:00Sigh 2'Wonder at the sky', the voice breathed.<br /><br />The darkness receded. To be angry was a step away from death. To be irritated two. 'Sky?!', the seer croaked, His throat seizing. 'That grey -' he was interrupted.<br /><br />'Life rains from there.<br /><br />Its colours changes people. The sun, the moon, the stars gaze through it. Through it prayers are screamed and fists shaken. I love the sky.'<br /><br />The seer realised that madness was finally his.Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-22623337398371884172008-11-24T12:25:00.003+00:002008-11-24T12:36:47.564+00:00GigWent for a gig yesterday. Paid a bit for it. Jazz greats chick corea and john mclaughlin teaming up with christian mcbride and vinnie colauita and kenny garret who used to play with chick and john.<br /><br />Wasn't sure what it would be like. Was rather fearing a barrage of mindless excess. Well there were some moments of that but overall I enjoyed it. Couldn't say it was a spiritual experience but it was quite amazing.<br /><br />Vinnie was the star of the show for sheer inventiveness, energy and freshness. At every point he was fully involved in the performance even if he wasn't playing at some points. But then I am biased towards him.<br /><br />But too many other thoughts...<br />no coherence to write them.<br /><br />blah!Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-69094573315226649982008-10-22T14:51:00.000+01:002008-10-25T14:08:20.163+01:00SighIt was the year of the terrible decree. The seer sat in the filth. Running his hands through the squelch. Driven here by harsh whispers of truth. Pushed over the edge. And he'd fallen. Into the pit of refuse. As the digested filled his nails and the stink his nostrils he did what he hated most now. He thought.<br /><br />The 9th year of Servant Frey had turned into the deepest shade of sour (or was it sickly sweet?). Everyone saw it coming. Everyone knew it. Everyone talked about it. But few did anything. The few who did were befriended. Assimilated. Lulled.<br /><br />'You are here'<br /><br />A voice uttered.<br /><br />'Questions need to be asked'<br /><br />Silence. Sigh. Breath.<br /><br />'The answers are yours'<br /><br />The seer put his filthy hands on his face.<br /><br />'Yes', he sobbed.<br /><br />'Where were you?' the breath asked.<br /><br />The tears made lines on the seer's face.<br />'I have spoken once, and I will not answer'Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17566252.post-81567911248949829172008-10-15T16:01:00.000+01:002008-10-15T16:02:51.534+01:00autumn thoollalYup the leaves are dancing!Chandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15456013944061982107noreply@blogger.com2