Thadd Presley’s Christmas Wish List

Dear Santa, as you know, I’m a big reader. I even love it more than writing. Recently, I was thinking about buying a book because I didn’t have anything new to read and I wanted a short story collection so bad, but after looking in all the stores in Oak Ridge and Knoxville, I couldn’t find one that I really wanted. So, I started wondering how many writers were out there that nobody knew existed. I knew there was one at least that is unknown and wondering: is there anybody out, is there anybody out there who could write the greatest short story collection ever, if they only decided to write one?

And the answer came to me faster than one of your magical reindeer fly. The answer was, of course, the great and powerful Roger Water, who’s words are forever sang and revered.

I know that if he wrote a short story collection it would set records that would take years to break. Much like the words in the albums he is known to occasionally write, this book would become a record setting machine and would set a record that would never be broken. Like the album “Dark Side of the Moon,” which stayed in the charts for 741 weeks from 1973 to 1988 and selling 50 million albums worldwide., this book of fiction would become a testament of legend.

So, I’m sure, Santa,  that you’ve heard “The Dark Side of the Moon” and “The Wall” which I’m citing as major examples of the skill and power Mr. Roger Waters is capable of putting into his words.  And since he is such a gift to the literary world it’s not like I’m asking for this gift out of selfishness. No, I’m writing this for the world. It will be a gift to humanity itself.

So please, Santa, please make Mr. Waters write a book of fiction. I want to read it so bad and I’ve been good all year. Well, you know I was good for some of it.  Please Santa, this is my only Christmas wish and I promise to be better next year if I can have this one, single thing.  Thank you Santa for all you’ve done for all the other children around the world. I love you so much.

P.S.

And also, Santa will you make him name it “Diving Deep?”  I think “Diving Deep” would be a good title for Roger Waters to use when he writes it.

And P.S. again,

Santa will you please become a racecar driver? You would win every time.

Signed, Thadd Presley

A Turn South

A Turn South

by Thadd Presley

“She’s worse, Pa,” Maggie said, coming down from the attic, “she won’t even touch the biscuits and I put jelly on ’em special.”

Of course, I couldn’t help it. When I heard that Angela wouldn’t eat, I started cryin’ and Pa tore off in a tantrum.

After Pa had left Maggie got up and took as if she was goin’ to slap me, sayin’ that I was drivin’ Pa to drinkin’ ag’in and that I needed to quit my cryin’. That made me feel worse than ever because all I ever wanted to do was help.

John came down from Angela’s room then and just looked at us. During the few seconds, where us girls just looked at john, he said, “Call Doc Morgan,” then he looked toward the window. “Tell him she has taken a turn south.”

June, the youngest of us, asked what “a turn south” meant and that made me start cryin’ again, because she was so innocent, but John didn’t answer. We all knew that Angela was gonna die and she would be with Momma in heaven. And although these two thoughts conflicted each other in emotion, they seemed to make the other worse; on the one hand, I felt so bad about Angela and I never wanted her to die, but I also knew she wanted to be with Ma and that she mourned her the most, being as she was Ma’s favorite, but I also didn’t want her to see Ma because that wouldn’t be fair. I also wanted to see Ma. So she couldn’t die, that was it.

John had the phone to his ear and I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and then his face seemed to fall, and I thought is this what the bible meant when it said that Cain’s countenance fell?” Somehow I knew it was right and John’s countenance had just fallen. Then John said, “the doc ain’t home, he’s out on a house-call.”

I thought a moment about praying, because Pa said prayer could make any situation better, but before I could a knock came on the door. Then Pa’s voice called out. “Might as well go on in doc, since as you done come all this way.”

“Thank you.” The doc said, and I heard the door handle turn. I looked toward John to see if he had realized and immediately knew he had. The doc was here. To myself I felt that the prayer was working and I hadn’t even said it yet.

The doc came in and went straight up to see Angela. He nodded at John, on his way, and smiled to us girls, but the smile was only for appearances. It didn’t show any of the doc’s real emotions. I could tell by his eyes and by the way he held is breath that something was bothering him.

He was always so nice, I thought.

Ten minutes after the doc had disappeared up the flight of steps going to the attic, Pa came through the door with a load of split wood. “where’s that quack at?” He bellowed, breathing hard from the chopping. “I got a supper to cook and you girls needs’da finish your outside chores.” He dropped the wood into the box behind the stove. “John?”

“Yes, Pa?”

“Are you going to tell me where the doc is, or do I need to smoke him out myself?”

“Oh,” he looked up the steps. “He’s in with Angela.”

“Bless that man for caring,” he said and looked at the roof. “Bless him for trying. But girls, and you John, you know what he is doing is tampering in God’s business, right? You know he is trying to be the Lord himself.”

I could see John’s mind turning over and over and I felt Pa’s words grow bigger and bigger in the air, just asking for someone to bust them so all the insides could fly out and make everything worse. “Yes, Sir.”

“‘Cause it’s the Lord that determines life and death. Just like before…”

“Before was different, Abe,” the doc said from the stairs, “and I thought you might have learned something from you wife’s,” he seemed to watch Pa, “condition. Why did you wait so long to call me?”

“What I want to know is how you found out?”

The doc finished the three last steps and came into the living room. “My wife heard it at church. During the women’s study group Yvonna asked for everyone to remember the little Ramsey girl. Of course, my wife told me, thinking I should check in.”

“Does she know how me and my family feels about good for nothin’ know-it-all’s meddlin’ in God’s business?”

The doc didn’t answer, he only looked at Pa. Then, he seemed to relax. “No, Abe, she does not,” he paused, “and the reason is this: I don’t think she could understand what you did.”

“Do you think she will understand it this time?”

“I think she would have a hard time believing it.”

“I am still firm in my belief, and I don’t want my daughter taking them elixirs and potions you’re cooking up down in town. You can keep it.”

“Abe, if you would have given your wife only a few doses of that bottle…just a few…” he hung his head. “Do you realize that she would still…”

“The Lord knows what He’sa doin’,” Abe bellowed. “You should know that. You went to school didn’ye?”

The doc looked at us kids, and then back at my father. “Damn you Abraham Ramsey, damn you to hell.”

John shot out of his chair then. “I’m sorry, doc, but they’s won’t be none of that. We don’t swear in this house.”

“Mind the children Shelby,” Pa said, as he stood up, “I’m takin’ this man to his horse and I’ll see to it that he gets down the road.”

“Let me do it Pa,” John said,” grabbing his hat. “I’ll make sure he get’s fer good.”

“Hold on,” the doc called, “now just hold on.” He looked at John. “We need to help your sister first. Now, I took on a hunch and brought the medicine she needs. She should only take two spoons a day until she gets better and then…”

“And then nothin’,” John said. “Now, get outside and on your horse.”

The doc turned and went out the door. His head was low and John was right behind him. “I will not have you deciding God’s fate in my home,” Pa said. “And that’s that. The Lord is something you can trust in.”

“You will live to regret your errors, Abraham, and you will never forgive yourself.” Then quietly, John and the doc walked outside.

I watched as John and the doc were in the window. Pa didn’t pay them any mind. Pa knew that John would get him on his way and that the doc would go easily. His face was turned down and I could see his lips moving. He was praying.

In the window, I saw the doc give John a dark colored bottle and John hid it under his coat. They shook hands and the doc left. Then John came back in.

He sat back down for a while in the living room, but no one said anything for a long time, and then he said, “I’m going to check on Angela.” Then stood up to go upstairs.

“Take that coat off,” Pa called.

“Yes sir,” John said, but walked on up the stairs as if he wasn’t disobeying a direct roder. When he vanished behind Angela’s door, I felt a lot better. I couldn’t help but to think, that if we would have been older and wiser last year, we could have saved our dear Ma.

The Universe is inside of us

Have an of you ever heard the music created by Symphony of Science. It is really an experience to listen to it, even though it’s a collection of scientist’s talks set yo an auto-tuned track. I’ve always been truly impressed by the songs they have.  Take a moment and listen to “We Are All Connected.

Carl Sagan said that the Universe created humanity because it wanted to know itself. I take it a step further and say that we have eyes because the cosmos wanted to see itself. I also believe that all of our atoms were created inside of stars. Inside of each and everyone of us are pieces from all points in Time and parts that came from many places in the Universe. It’s amazing to think that at one time the elements we are made from did not exist. Therefore, before we were possible, iron and oxygen and many other atomic structures had to be imagined and created. Only later did it become possible to have organic machines as complicated as we are.

There is a famous photo taken by on of the Space Telescopes that looks like an eye.

galaxy_eye_space_1440x900_hd-wallpaper-77821

The last time I wrote about metaphysics and our amazing existence, I told how I thought Super Clusters looked like bigger versions of neurons in our brains. I explained how our consciousness might continue to exist as part of this larger structure even after our bodies die. The similarities of such large structures and tiny ones inside of our bodies can not be a coincidence. There is a bigger picture out there and we will someday find it.

You can read my last post on super clusters and neurons here:  http://fictionweekly.net/what-happens-when-we-die/

The galaxy above is amazing, but below I leave you with another beautiful representation of how our Universe exists right inside of us.  Our eyes look more like galaxies than the galaxy above looks like an eye.   Isn’t this unbelievable.

 

eye of the galaxy
Each eye is a galaxy of it’s own

Phil Smith and The Footbook of Zombie Walking

Phil Smith has published a book about despair, climate change, zombie films, multiple apocalypses, the everyday, city-dwelling, zombies, walking and walk-performance, imperialism, sex, zombie literature, refugees, popular culture and zombies.

Illustrated with the author’s usual, unusual photographs of the everyday zombie.

Learn more about the book: http://www.triarchypress.net/zombie.html

Learn more about Phil Smith: http://www.triarchypress.net/crabman.html

What happens when we die?

Some of you don’t know that I am a student of metaphysics and the global consciousness and tat we have the ability to alter our reality. Some of you only visit the blog to read poetry of short stories.

This has been a hard year for me. I’ve lost many friends, which has me thinking about life and death tonight. Here is my summation of what could be possible.

Does our brain waves simply disappear when we die? Do we have a place to go after this world and this body has deteriorated? Besides our spirit or soul, what lives on after death? Many of these questions can’t be answered with accuracy from this side of the life/death threshold. But, if we look around us we see many things that resemble other things many ways. For example, an atom resembles a mini solar system, a river system looks like a lightening strike, and something recently discovered was the amazing similarities between super clusters in space and neurons in our brains.

Then, we have maths that go deeper than all of these discoveries which we use to try and understand the amazing underlying complexity of the world and how it is built up from simple mathematical expressions such as the Mandelbrot Set, and the Fibonacci Sequence.

All of these amazing discoveries proved over and over that we are part of a bigger picture and our understanding of the universe isn’t complete by any stretch of the imagination. The mystery of dark matter and dark energy is only one example of what we don’t know.

The fact that a neuron looks like a super cluster give me the idea that all of our memories, our experiences, our lessons, and more than anything our personalities have a larger interface to connect to once we pass on to the next phase of our experience.

Someone once said that “the Universe created us so that it could know itself better.” Maybe it was Carl Sagan.

The Greek believed that what we saw “out there” was “schema.” Nothing but the reflection of ourselves. Sometimes I wonder just how much ancient knowledge we have lost, because know that we can see 13 billion years into the past and we can see the movement of brain waves along with the ability to create living, working neurons, it seems the Greeks might have been right. The universe is a like us.

My theory is this: when we die, our information goes from the operating system inside our craniums and uploads to the giant operating system in the sky.

Gigantic Planet

My newest short story collection has a poem along with each story.  This poem loosely accents the story. The poem below is for the story “Freegonism.”

If you should ever find yourself enjoying my poetry or my short stories, please buy a copy of my ebooks.  “Thadd’s Twelve($1.99) is a collection of short stories and poetry and “Poetry Principia (.99) is a poetry collection.

 

Gigantic Planet

by Thadd Presley

 

With walls built high to the sky,
and seated on the mountain high
the shielded city shined so bright.
Only the cannons divided the night
every time a missile’s scream let fly.
And my mom told us not to cry,
for we would find our way back in time.

 

The idea took centuries of planning.
It was the undertaking of supreme understanding
and physics that included the greatest mathematics.

We began catching unknown radio-static
And combined with unparalleled skills of mechanics.

Lift off had to be perfect because this planet was Huge Gigantic.
The fuel was posi-electric, the engine quasi-magnetic.
We stood in a circle with our hands connected
and waited silently while the solar collected

The ship was a solar-quantum drive
designed for outer-galaxy flight
created by one of the Great Elder Nine.
Those Elder Ones who had positron-organic minds.
Both robot and human, the only nine still alive
Surviving the war of an ancient time.

Inside the ship was a symmetrical atomic receptor
adapted to fit the solar collector,
and in the form of two towering rings
stood the statues called the Batteries.

Did I tell you, the planet was Humongous Gigantic
with underground laboratories very deeply planted?
Because the past was so terrible and utter fantastic.
Tales of life, and war and love so romantic
and the sorrowful hatred by mankind was tragic.

Underground were homes built by a forgotten race,
who had been here a long time, but now lived in space.
Once they were humans, but the virus gave waste
It was agony for those left behind, some screaming
The whole world watch a world where infection was teaming.
Never to return, the ships left one by one long into the evening.

We traveled to a new galaxy and saw the cold surface.
We called this new planet, the Calla Bryn Sturgis.
The green air here made the scientists and military nervous.
Never before had the priest preached so a long service

But soon we would have to open the door.
There was plenty fresh air, but out there lived much more?

The zoo we brought for the new world to be filled
Many creeping things and animals and humans, but still

life would have to forge it’s own way and it wouldn’t be a pretty dance
We went so far in space that we would only got this one chance.

With our breaths held and our eyes squeezed shut
the big door squeaked opened and the air suddenly gushed

It wasn’t poisonous or acid and it didn’t give spark
So we left our ship, the craft we called “The Ark”

and stepped out into a new world to get a fresh start.
My mom told me, in order to make our lives fantastic

We were brought to a safe place, where a promise lasted.
I smiled and asked if this world was like the old, home planet.
She shook her head, smiled, and said:
“No sweetheart, our old home was Huge Gigantic.”

It’s in our Nature to talk to Snakes

It’s in our Nature to talk to Snakes

by Thadd Presley

Bring yourself to me
allow the mist to hide you
the glade to refresh you,
and the warm water to wash you

Allow a moment out of life to ponder the unknown
and how it might be
living, dying, not young, not old

And fantasy will interfere
evil will rear it’s tempting head
But, not a moment will we be concerned

though lost, afraid, we go where we’re led

We must live life to it’s fullest
and learn from each of our many mistakes.

It’s in our power to know the dangers

It’s in our nature to talk to snakes.