The “Crimsons” had built their civilization on a yet to be mapped chain of tropical islands and it had thrived for more than 4 centuries. Their relative isolation from the rest of the planet produced their most striking physical trait for although their skin tones varied, their hair was universally undeniably flaming red. As legends evolve from partial truths, they had come to recently attribute their happiness and success more or less directly to this part of their appearance and now that once infrequent explorers happened upon them and had given them their current superficial name, they were embracing it more and more. They were, by all standards, happily and productively ‘primitive’. Their children were raised by small community ‘parental pods’ each of which shared an identical cultural pride and common ‘spirit’ but this was incrementally starting to include a subtext of worship of the perceived magical property of their red hair. They also maintained excellent health and longevity due to ritualized attention to their diets and promoted, most fervently, the values of justice, honor, and humility. They were ruled by a priestess who was like a queen in the requirement that she needed an ancient genetic lineage connecting her to former priestesses in order to reign. All had worked well until a necessary excavation for burial purposes revealed an ancient artifact. Priestess, Avea, claimed it immediately and refused to allow any ‘commoner’ to study it.
When Avea studied the ancient ‘time capsule’ she made a most unsettling discovery. Within the almost pristinely preserved contents was a skull. On the skull six long chestnut brown hairs remained attached and an ancient text in their own language lay beneath it. The text read like an ‘owner’s manual’ about a proper diet. It also promised their cohesive long-lived prosperity if they would adhere to the three principles of justice, honor, and humility. But nowhere was hair color mentioned! This could pose a problem to the newly established reverence for their common immutable characteristic and might just cause division among their communities who were unevenly committed to that ‘modern’ idea. Avea wisely realized that she held her people’s future directly in her hands.
On the third day, the priestess revealed her impression of the contents of the sacred artifact to the people in a speech declaring a day of celebration once a proper shrine could be erected to hold its content. She repeated the text but never mentioned the startling forensic evidence. As Avea placed the skull on a pedestal in the newly built shrine at the start of their national holiday, she plucked those chestnut hairs from it letting them fall among the chaff at her feet. Division caused by any emphasis on appearance, simply wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Dana stepped with an enthusiastic hop across the threshold of her new boutique. Bringing some big city flavor to the ‘rubes’ was an exciting venture. The innovative idea was directly inspired by her great-grandmother who delightedly clapped when Dana had shown off her newest creations. Granny’s country roots obviously approved.
The boutique’s remote rural setting was stereotypically quaint. Ancient trees lined the Main Street location. For a town of only 6,500 residents, the shopping district was delightfully busy. In her conscientious fashion, Dana displayed her ‘plainer’, more subtle, designs in the window saving the ‘good stuff’, with the most rhinestones, faux leather fringes, and multi-colored feathers, along the back wall. Dana mused as she dressed a window manikin, “We wouldn’t want to drive them off from culture shock, would we, Tiffany?”
The first few days were a BIG disappointment enticing only window shoppers who all turned away quickly as if assaulted by a bad odor. But, on the 5th day, at the same moment Dana had decided to ‘call it quits’, a large woman dressed in an obviously homemade gingham jumper dragged a spindle of a man by his collar through the entrance. “Harley! This is the place I’ve been talkin’ about.” Harley’s head rose above his stretched-out collar in a turtle-like maneuver, then he strolled back and forth making his way toward the back.
Dana didn’t want to appear too anxious; she knew that country people took longer to comprehend everything, so she quietly shadowed the couple. “This is going to finally ‘break the ice’!” Dana thought as she pumped her fist.
When the prospective customers got to the back wall’s display, the ample woman folded her arms and bellowed, “THERE, look there you old fool! I told ya this is where our missing strongbox and livestock went!”.
Lions rarely target the adult healthy gazelle when the vulnerable and infirm are available. Human predators are no different.
BREAKING NEWS… A mass suicide was discovered at the Ranch of Hope today. The leader of this underground cult has been apprehended. Gault James had accumulated a clan of one dozen young women over the last two years and, somehow, convinced them to take their own lives as an ultimate act of their devotion to him. The charismatic James, a man in his sixties, is wanted in Costa Rica for an identical crime. He brainwashed and abused young women who had had loveless and troubled lives convincing them of his eternal devotion. Those, he tired of, were eventually convinced to commit suicide leaving him an opportunity to ‘slip away’ in search of new victims to seduce with a “caress of madness” only The Devil himself could inspire.
Angela Hunt*: age 17 Cause of Death: suicide Mode of death: arsenic poisoning
*Found at the Ranch of Hope with eleven other cult members. Raised in foster homes from the age of four. Mother: currently incarcerated for drug trafficking and prostitution. Father: unknown No family.
The random words are generated at creativitygames.net
My words are:
beer…champagne…TV…hammer…tapestry…fish
Here’s my story:
The fish cleared the water’s surface and sparkled in the sunlight then disappeared, head first, back to the black depths. The fishing pole reacted just like a divining rod, as it tipped and touched the surface pointing out exactly where the fish re-entered. Dale couldn’t believe the exhilaration involved in this wonderful, brand new activity.
He’d made friends with Chuck quite accidentally. Chuck was the first responder when Dale’s compact car had become wedged beneath an 18 wheeler with Dale pinned inside. Chuck’s reassuring voice had kept him calm. Chuck’s skilled hands had saved his life and their friendship was taking him places he’d never considered.
It was while Dale watched the heroic news video on TV at the hospital, that he had decided to thank Chuck personally.
They met at a local pub for drinks. Chuck ordered a draft beer and Dale had a celebratory glass of champagne since his hospital release had been only two days before. Their choices of beverages pretty much described their backgrounds. The odd, yet colorful, tapestry of a wonderful friendship had been started in that meeting. Some would call it a” bromance “…just two guys who really enjoyed each others company.
Dale had offered Chuck a guest membership at his country club. To Dale’s amazement, everyone liked Chuck immediately. He was in one word, genuine, and that transcended all social preconceptions of his worth. Crowds gathered ’round him to listen to stories, in improper grammar, of what he considered “just a job”.
Now off of the lake, Chuck was frying Dale’s prize catch. He was not at all intimidated by social status. In fact, Chuck seemed happily unaware for the most part. Their wives had encouraged their outings and Dale was feeling a weight, greater than that semi, lifted from his spirit.
“Maybe we should invite your buddy Jackson next time old man? I’d love to see him baiting a hook with those pink gloves of his.”
“I don’t think he’d come , Chuck. He wouldn’t know what the proper angling attire is.”
“Neither did you and I’d say you are doing alright.”
They sat down to the fresh trout dinner and realized that they had forgotten to bring eating utensils.
“Use your fingers Dale. The fish won’t bite cha. We’ve got soap and water you know.”
Dale ate the best tasting meal in his memory, with his fingers.
“Here, try the eye. You fellas would pay big money for those if they were served on a plate with capers and a fancy sauce. Go ahead, old man.”
As the sun dropped behind the trees and long shadows reached their retreat, Dale reached for his cell phone. His wife wasn’t going to believe the wild adventure that he was having. There was NO service. He was disconnected.
As Chuck handed him an ice-cold beer, he could see the angst in Dale’s face. He casually reached into an old toolbox and approached him with a hammer. Dale suddenly felt as though it had all been a mistake. He was with a crazy man, a Neanderthal, maybe a serial killer. Why hadn’t he listened, why had he trusted?
Chuck laughed out loud at the sight of his new friend in total panic. What a boob! His work with Dale was far from over, he could tell that for sure.
” I can fix that phone. Let me at it. ”
Later that evening they sat by the campfire and laughed until their sides hurt.
The deficiency our kids were having when it came to recognizing classic Nursery Rhymes was allieviated, some, when the movie Shrek came out. Thanks to that movie, kids are asking about Humpty Dumpty, and the gang, who remain frames of reference in our culture. Humpty Dumpty started as a political cartoon and still holds a message of which educated Americans are aware.
Laying a cultural education is a primary duty of preschool teachers and parents. I realized that one of my day care kids had never seen the Wizard of Oz by age 8. We made a date and watched it together. The same day care friend had a movie date with me at age 16 to watch, To Kill a Mockingbird.
There are icons in our culture that should not be overlooked. Subjects,themes and morals crop up in daily life and being familiar with them, makes one truly educated and “in the loop”. Jack Sparrow, from Disney, reintroduced pirates to childhood. Lots of kids had no reference for them in the previous years.
If you are interested in the well-rounded and fanciful education of a young child, do consider the Mother Goose classics.
Mensen maken de samenleving en nemen daarin een positie in. Deze website geeft toegang tot een diversiteit aan artikelen die gaan over 'samenleven', belicht vanuit verschillende perspectieven. De artikelen hebben gemeen dat er gezocht wordt naar wat 'mensen bindt, in plaats van wat hen scheidt'.
Sillyfrog's Blog 