Sportz

I posted comments and sent emails on Facebook when I clearly should have been watching the American football. Now everyone will know that I am that despicable outcast that does not luv the American football. I wuz not invited to any parties full of potato chips and beer and 49er fandom. I did not even know that there would be parties to miss because I did not even have the good graces to realize the football wuz happening!

It wuz today! Oh my godz! And I didn't know to scream stuff like "Go 9ers!" I didn't even know I should be posting scores in my status. I didn't even know the name of the opposing team. It is a ball fashioned from pigs skin that is not shaped like a ball but rather like an inflated vagina pictogram, or possibly a lemon. Very big mens will run with it and throw it and crash into each other to take possession of it.  It's not a sport I likes.

I will tell you about the sportz I do likes.

I likes to watch the Christians being thrown to the lions. This is my favorite event. Also,  I like it when the big mens are given pointy objects and made to fight to the death, and if they wont fight, then the lions eats them too. When the lions is full we bring out the bears. We don't want the bears to gets hurt so when the mens fight with the bears we don't let the mens have any pointy objects. Instead we roll the mens in honey and give them a football, then let the bears in. We call this "Goldrush Rugby."

When the bears is full we take away the footballs but keep the honey and bring in the South American ants. We don't want the ants to get hurt either, so we tie the mens to posts.  We calls this event "Raisins on Celery." It's very slow but the mens screams the loudest in this event.  We usually use this time to replenish our supply of krispy Kale Chips and  refill our horns with mead. Then we plays some drinking games while we listen to the mens screaming and Katy Perry improvises a Merce Cunningham inspired dance routine in a skimpy patriotic outfit for the youngsters on a hovering stage above the field.

If Katy's not naked enough the kidz boo and then we chain Katy to the lego wall on the hovering stage and release the dragon. We never worry about the dragon getting hurt. He is bad ass. By then the ants is done and the field is cleared for the fireworks and laser show, but the people is already leaving the stadium or turning off the tv and posting the scores on Facebook:

Lions 30 Mens 0
Bears 10 Mens 0
Ants 4 Mens 0
Dragon 1 Katy Perry 0

Go Lions!

Then we run out into the streets to tip buses over and light them on fire. We play kick the can and freeze tag  by the warm light, organizing teams in accordance with which corporations sponsored our technical educationz or put our party's politicians in power (as is their constitutional right) or issue our paychecks. Then those of us who don't need abortions (our constitutional right) or some cosmetic surgery head home for bed so we can get up for work in the morning. The rest beat feet to the clinics before they're closed for the midnight Taco Bell run.

The Spheres of Galia Part 12

In the biggest challenge to the King’s authority for the decades he had reigned, thousands of common folk massed outside the new palace to protest the ongoing war in Vitnu. Through upheavals and bitter strife in the kingdom were natural process, bound to occur in any realm with a large collection of players, there had never been a gathering of opposition so large that the chanting could be heard as far as the Sophrastas Sea.
People had grumbled at his unpopular rulings before in the markets and taverns, it was a minor crime, though a popular pastime. But now, it went beyond irritation, beyond drunk complaints. The people went out in the misty winter air and gathered at the gates to make their discontent known and unmistakably heard. With torches aglow that sent fiery messages to the King in his tower, they chanted into the starry darkness, rocking the metal gates with the collective force of their anger.
It was not long before their presence drew out the Royal Guards. Armed, the Royal Guards drove the rabble forcefully from the main plaza. Eager to administer beatings to members of the unarmed crowd, they drew their batons, their swords, and fists, swinging wildly at any figure without a shield or uniform. There were screams of children and much shouting. No one was spared the hand of the Guard. The people dropped their torches with each blunt blow and small fires broke out, filling the night with smoke.
The violent night left in doubt the next step for the Kingdom. The recurrent doubts as to the true birth right of the King continued to plague the populace. Many scribes and a small number of councilmen had been offended by the King's harsh rule and his resistance to change. They rallied with the peasantry, calling for a change.
The apparent leader of the King’s opposition was forcefully taken from a healing temple by unknown men in common clothes that betrayed no sign of their rank. Bright and two other councilmen had been severely beaten in the clashes with Royal forces, but Willem alone was carried away. The old healer watched in terrified silence as seven men wrapped Willem the Bright in a blanket as he lay sleeping on a bed in the largest temple of healing in the Kingdom. Locked in the neighboring chamber, Willem’s wife screamed for him while the cowering healer watched his patient being carried away.
The High Priestess hid her smile when the news of Willem the Bright’s abduction reached her. His whereabouts remained unknown, though his fate was certain. The King was playing into her hands, making it all the easier for her by removing yet another beloved man of the people. She was astonished at the level of his blindness, his arrogance. He acted as though he had never studied the history of the Spheres.
It mattered little to her that he no longer sought her consultation. These days he kept council with Argus the Torturer and though brutal, his advice was simple to decipher. She would know his next move before it became a thought in his mind. Soon, she thought, it would be time for her to act openly against the King. For now, she was content to watch his unraveling and with it, the unraveling of the Old Kingdom.

Sliding Down The Hill

Old oak trees and tall pines line the narrow paved street. I am only five miles from the heart of a big metropolis, but the trees and small abrupt hills of this neighborhood remind me of a rural community that is far away from the noise and pollution of the city. I am sitting in my car on a small dirt pullout. On either side of the street are artistically crafted homes. Each one has its own style, Spanish houses with soft white curves, modern homes with sharp geometric lines and flat roofs, romantic designs with wooden shutters, fit for princesses and fairies. None of them are very close to the street, rather, they sit comfortably removed, close enough to add their beauty to the whole, but also disguised slightly by the trees. The neighborhood is quiet. It is late afternoon on a Saturday, maybe all the families that live in these homes are out shopping, or still at the sporting games of their children. A random car passes me every now and then, but mostly, I am alone on this street. The black tar of the road is awash in the pale golden light of a late fall afternoon.
In another 15 minutes, I am scheduled to cater a wedding at a nearby address. With only a couple minutes to spare and miles from a Starbucks with a bathroom, I am changing into my work outfit in the car. There are no pedestrians and not a car in any of the driveways that I can see. In the small cab of my truck, I wiggle out of my tight jeans and panties. Carefully, I put on another pair of clean panties, smaller red ones to avoid panty lines, and the required uniform of a caterer: black pants, black socks, and black shoes. I am already wearing a T-shirt, so I tuck it into my pants and put on my button up black dress shirt. Pulling the rear view mirror closer to me, I put on a layer of thick mocha lipstick and add some pink blush to my cheekbones. I grab a handful of my thick wavy hair and pull it into a tighter bun.
Ahead of me, the road stretches for a quarter mile, then drops from sight down the hill. The oaks and pines continue down the narrow road, and the pale sunlight of the setting sun streams through the branches and leaves, creating soft rays of light that flow diagonally from tree top to paved tar. I am dressed and ready and I turn the ignition and start the car, I need to make a U-turn and look for the address I was given for the event. The road is narrow, and I will need to make a 3-point turnaround. I look carefully behind me for cars, then I look ahead and I see him.
About a hundred feet away is a man riding on a children’s scooter. Rising from the declining hill in the distance, he is silhouetted by the light. He is wearing baggy pants and a long Indian dress shirt that comes down to his knees. His hands are holding the steering bar of the scooter, his right foot is balanced on the narrow base and his left leg reaches down to the street every few seconds, pushing himself along. He is not coming too fast, he is moving gently, enjoying the soft light, the warm rays on his face, the smell of burning leaves and baking pine needles. He is closer now, I can see his loose dress shirt is brown and embroidered at the neck, cuffs and along the trim at his knees. He looks confident and serene. "He must be going somewhere special," I think to myself. I watch him as he passes and we make quick eye contact.
With no one else on the road, I turn the car around and drive another block until I see the Women’s Community Building. I park the car by a wooden fence on top of a blanket of pine needles that have dropped from the tall branches above. The smell reminds me of summer camp. As I walk into the building, I notice that the wedding ceremony has begun. A wave of tears hits me as I feel the energy of the space. I look at the groom. I see the long brown dress shirt and the embroidered cuffs. His face is as calm and peaceful as it was when he was sliding down the hill, now enjoying the soft warmth that flows into him from the crowd, the friends and family gathered today for this warm and gentle invocation. I wipe the tears from my eyes and I walk towards the kitchen. I have work to do.