BLOGS

Bayne watches over what was once a thriving world. His mind toils with the destruction of mankind. Not sure if he's content or a feeling of regret that he himself will out live mankind anyway. Whatever the case may be, Bayne watches as what use to be a place of Life, Music, Violence, Prostitution, Athouritive figures and so forth is now home of his greatest enemmies. ....THE WARWOLVES & THE PALE ONES

As he stares out over the city, Century year old memories haunt him. He knows now why he watches. he knows now why he hunts. He knows now who his allies and enemmies are but most of all the memory that haunts him the most, is the memory of he knows not why.

 EXT. LOS ANGELES - SKYLINE - NIGHT.

Scorched skies. Specks of sunlight appear through the grim colored clouds.

                                                                                                                                                                                           INT. DOWNTOWN - LOS ANGELES - SAME.

The City is in ruins. Desolate buildings. The streets are cracked from the residue of previous quakes. We follow a well dressed man as he heads to his car. He passes a few other people along the way. Once to his car, we see a massive warwolf, slowly creep from the shadows and head towards him. Just as he gets into his car, the warwolf comes out of the shadow and reaches out for him. Unbeknownst of the warwolve’s presence, the well dressed man pulls off. The warwolf snorts, turns in the opposite direction and walks off.

EXT. DOWNTOWN - LOS ANGELES - MAIN STREET - SAME NIGHT.

An entrance to an underground subway station is covered by rubble. The rubble slowly begins to move as if on a mechanical  sliding grid. From the entrance, a group of people dressed in tattered clothing, explode from the entrance and make a break across the desolate street. In an instant, three of the group members are blind-sided by a group of massive warwolves. Two of the remaining group members make it into an abandoned buildings.

INT. ABANDONED BUILDING - MAIN STREET - NIGHT.

Two of the remaining group members are peeking out through a boarded window. They look from left to right. They scan the area thoroughly.

                                                                 GROUP MEMBER #3

                                                             What are we going to do?

                                                                 GROUP MEMBER #5

                                                             I don’t know? We need to get over

                                                             to the shop and get food dammit!!

                                                                 GROUP MEMBER #3

                                                             We’ll never make it. I told you we should

                                                             have never came.

                                                                GROUP MEMBER #5

                                                              We’re fuckin dying! We need food!

                                                                 GROUP MEMBER #3

                                                              Shhhhh! Quiet! Shut the fuck up or they’ll

                                                              hear us.

Born from the thirst of a King Vampire and the bite of a werewolf, Bayne was born dead but revived as a hybrid through the combination of these two supernatural creatures.

            BAYNE

Born -1620      Died - 1620

         Re-Born - 1620

BAYNE LEGACY 2014

The world as we know it, has immulated Movies and movies have told the story of a world absent of life. With the consistant preaching of the end is here and the end is near, it has finally come to past. Mother nature has had the last say about life as we know it. With a simple push of the reset button, the core nucleus of Mother earth proved to be unstable due to the constant raping of her nutrional value.

And God said "the world will never ever perish by water but shall feel the heat of Fire". The thing about God is, he doesn't have to be specific just know when the fire comes it can come in any form. And in a form it did. Molten lava.   Massive Earthquakes giving way to the inner rage of the planet's distain for humanities lack of respect for her.

Once her rage subsided, Mankind's reign over her ended. In their place, the creatures of legends walked the surface and humanity with all it's posturing and boasting and proving they are at the top of the food chain, all turned out to be empty words.  Frome hence forth The Pale ones and Warwolves walk the surface and mankind   has become cattle.

BAYNE NARRATION

                                                  We all thought it would end in a bang.

                                                  Or biological warfare. From the dawn of

                                                  time, man’s conviction since his creation,

                                                  has been to destroy the world.        

FADE IN:

EXT. SAN FRANSISCO BRIDGE - DAY.

The skies are scorched. The San Francisco bridge, is partially demolished. Abandoned.  Dilapidated cars some occupied with   skeletons of the deceased, are strewn about. Random cables holding the bridge up, have snapped from their housing.

SLOW MOTION:

A man in white, holding two custom made battle axes which are engraved silver axe heads with a hooked shaped wooden handle and wardog’s K9’s extending from them, walks across the San Francisco bridge away from the city with deadly intent.

                                                                   BAYNE NARRATION

                                                     Always preaching the end is near. The end

                                                     is here. Warring for position and power.

The man in white continues on. Suddenly out of nowhere, a car flies in his direction. He tilts his head slightly evading the oncoming vehicle.                              

                                                                   BAYNE NARRATION (CONT’D)

                                                     Fighting for political gain. No one ever      

                                                     knowing their place in the food chain.

He grips his battle axes tighter.

                                                                   BAYNE NARRATION (CONT’D)

                                                     No one ever took into consideration who

                                                     held the real power. God, if there really is a

                                                     God said the world would end by fire. So when

                                                     the end finally came, it wasn't by man’s doing.

The man in white stops.

                                                                  BAYNE NARRATION (CONT’D)

                                                    Mother nature made the call and decided to push

                                                    the reset button.

He tilts his spectacles down to get a better look at hordes of Warwolves snarling and growling in front of him. The man in white, smirks.

                                                                   BAYNE NARRATION (CONT’D)

                                                   Warwolves. Looks like it’s going to be a long day

                                                   and I have nothing but time on my hands.

With a quick twirl of his battle axes, The man in white, leaps high into the air poised for combat.

http://www.indiegogo.com/theabandon

The bus hurtled toward him. Victor ‘Ace’ Jackson wrenched himself out the huge projectile’s path. The bus speared into a five story apartment building, punching a massive hole through brick and glass. A ruptured tank hemorrhaged gas and a colossal fuel-fed eruption swallowed the bus, magnifying the size of that hole. An incendiary carpet unfurled upward, racing to the top of the building.
Jackson whirled about to face the one who flung that bus. His Adjusted View Display (AVD) filtered out a swirling haze of previous damage to provide a vividly enhanced image of his nemesis.
Garbed in signature red and gold with a Black letter I displayed on his broad chest, Invinci-Man, stood in the middle of a gutted out street. He cut a majestic figure, as if carved out of cobalt. Built like Mr. Olympia, endowed with the strength to move mountains, the ability to soar beyond the heavens, the durability to shrug off any weapon short of a nuke, Invinci-Man once reigned as a shining exemplar of goodness and integrity. Once upon a time, billions called him a hero. That was then. This was now.
Jackson stared at his former friend, briefly torn between reasoning with him and continuing this contest. No. The time for reasoning was long past. Jackson solidified his resolve and prepared to meet whatever his opponent could dish out.
Invinci-Man’s costume appeared fresh and crisp, its wearer assuming an air of casual indifference as if he were strolling through the park on a sunny afternoon. Jackson, by contrast, seemed to have attracted every particle of debris to his Energy Field Supplemented Hyper Fortified All Environment Battle Suit, until its olive green surface was caked in gray ash.
Despite the suit’s climate control, Jackson sweated bullets.
A burst of thermal energy rippled from Invinci-Man’s eyes, striking Jackson in the chest. The Battle Suit’s contact shield deflected 89 percent of the blast as Jackson tumbled backwards. A windstorm of a shock wave roiled equidistantly from point of impact. A gasping Jackson plopped on his back. The center of his suit radiated a crimson patch of deadly intense heat. He felt like his chest had been caved in. A diagnostic readout crawled across the bottom of his AVD. His suit registered a nine percent power drain from that single hit. Jackson neuro-linked a command to his suit’s core computer to compensate its powerplant’s loss…and just in the nick of time. Jackson leapt upright as Invinci-Man came at him. He linked a second command, phasing his shield from contact to absorbent mode and braced himself.
BAP! A combination of super speed and immeasurable strength barreled into Jackson, knocking him through the air at a velocity exceeding the force he received. One building, two buildings…after that he lost count of the buildings he penetrated before crashing on another empty street. A fifty foot trench ending in a dredged up mound of smoldering black top marked his hard landing.
Muscle stimulating fluids from his suit pumped into Jackson’s body, accelerating his physical recovery. A dopamine compound cleared the fog from his brain.
Invinci-Man swooped from the sky, his fist reared back for a devastating followup.
Jackson raised his arm and his ordnance bracelet roared, releasing a spray of rockets. Each rocket was a tube of graphene, impregnated with a seething core of energy so dense it was as if the mass of Mount Everest were compressed into a space the size of an index finger. Jackson didn’t take the time to aim. He couldn’t. Fifteen out of 30 rockets pummeled Invinci-Man and the very fabric of existence seemed to come apart at the seams from the fury they unleashed.
Jackson witnessed his opponent being swallowed up in a boiling brew of unleashed energy. Invinci-Man flailed to the ground some distance away, landing yards short of an SUV. The close proximity of Invinci-Man’s impact swept the vehicle end over end as if swatted by the careless hand of an impetuous giant.
Jackson’s AVD status indicator elevated off the scale. By engaging Absorbent Mode, his suit had borrowed the kinetic energy of Invinci-Man’s blow, channeled it to its servos and stored it for potential use. This meant that for exactly two minutes and 35 seconds, Jackson would be as strong as the most powerful being on Earth. At least theoretically. Absorbent Mode was a new feature he hadn’t tested. Now was as good a time as any. Jackson catapulted himself half a block, landing in front of Invinci-Man.
The super being looked groggy and was slow to rise.
Jackson delivered a roundhouse kick that sent Invinci-Man cart wheeling through a wrought iron gate fifty feet away. An astonished smile flashed across Jackson’s face. It worked. He reveled briefly in his extra strength, ephemeral though it was. No time to waste. The clock was ticking and when this mighty strength was expended, he wouldn’t be able to engage Absorbent Mode for up to eight hours.
He rammed into Invinci-Man with all the speed his suit could muster, inundating his foe with kicks, chops and punches.
Invinci-Man took the barrage for an initial few seconds, before defending himself. He lifted an elbow, blocking a punch and countering with a fist to Jackson’s face plate.
Jackson’s head snapped back with bone rattling force. Briefly, he wondered how far it would have flown were it not shielded by field-augmented armor. He reeled on the defensive, straining the agility function of his suit as he tried to elude a flurry of strikes from Invinci-Man. A kick boxing style blow from a super powered foot landed solidly in Jackson’s gut, bending him over, but not knocking him down.
Invinci-Man switched to a short, sharp karate kick, but Jackson caught the other’s leg and shoved, plowing his foe to the ground. He attempted to slide underneath Invinci-Man’s guard, apply an arm lock, and for an instant he achieved a hold.
Invinci-Man shifted. It wasn’t a brute motion. It was more of a soft, subtle, judo-style reflex, containing just enough exertion to free his arm and topple Jackson off balance.
Jackson pushed off the ground with one hand, flipping to his feet.
Invinci-Man stood, still appearing irritatingly unwinded. He regarded Jackson with keen, measuring eyes. “Your suit has always amazed me. I used to wonder what it would be like going up against it with you in it. My natural powers versus your mechanized prowess.”
Invinci-Man’s expression hinted at a smile. He so much resembled a young Sidney Portier, with a deep, resonating Barry White voice. A charismatic combination, one that used to wow the masses, especially the female element.
Jackson snarled a challenge. “Well, I hope I’m satisfying your curiosity. Allow me to satisfy it some more!” He charged. Jackson had one minute remaining of borrowed strength. He was determined to make the most of it. He delivered a forearm to Invinci-Man’s rib, receiving a thunderous uppercut in turn.
Invinci-Man’s close quarter skills were superb. Jackson never understood why for all his prodigious powers, the super being trained so rigorously in martial arts…until the latter clashed with a villain of comparable strength years ago.
A warning alert warbled in Jackson’s ear at the same instant a blip popped up on his AVD’s threat sensor display. An incoming aerial bogie. But it wasn’t a machine.
Jackson dove left, narrowly avoiding a vivid orange beam that burned a bubbling hole into the spot he just vacated. His auto-targeter captured an image of the airborne aggressor: a dark skinned woman, clad in silver breast plate armor, anatomically correct to the smallest detail. A matching kilt of glimmering lamellar flowed to mid thigh. She wore black ankle high sandals, attached to gray, spike studded shin guards. She wielded an intricately designed staff that appeared to be carved from hard wood. The world knew her as Candace, the Nile Goddess.
Jackson fired off an anti-personnel laser from his shoulder emitter.
Candace lifted her star staff faster than an eye blink, using it to catch the beam. The staff grew bright as it absorbed the laser, so bright it appeared a second sun had formed overhead. Instantly, the glare subsided and the staff reverted back to its cool earth tone. Candace dove toward Jackson, her face a mask of ferocity. “Let me have at him!” She shouted to Invinci-Man.
Jackson soaked in her rage, and for a second, vestigial fear gripped him as he pictured how much of an avenging goddess she must have appeared to her ancient subjects. Assuming her claim to godhood was valid.
The Nile Goddess pointed her star staff, summoning a second stream of orange fire.
This time Jackson was not quick enough to elude its bite. The beam caught him in the side, wrapping him in a writhing hot blossom.
Candace reached into the mini-conflagration, grabbed Jackson’s arm and hurled him effortlessly a full four blocks.
Jackson ricocheted off the corner of a building, ripping the roof off a parked station wagon before slamming headfirst into a dumpster. The large metal container crumpled around him in a distorted hug.
A red tint shrouded his AVD. Diagnostic alerts shrilled with urgency until Jackson silenced the clamor. His suit’s power level took a grave dip, forcing him to draw additional juice from his powerplant. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he had to tap into his reserves. He managed to pry his way out of the remains of the dumpster just as Candace arrived, looming over him like a hungry raptor, her star staff raised.
She brought her staff down in a swift, gleaming arc. Jackson leapt clear. The staff struck the dumpster, incinerating what was left of it. Jackson slid behind the Goddess, neutralizing her staff arm while clamping a forearm to her throat.
Normally, Candace would have broken such a hold with contemptuous ease. Her strength was second to Invinci-Man’s. While Jackson had 35 seconds left of Invinci-Man’s strength, the physical advantage in this instance was decisively his. It was an advantage he utilized with zest as he increased pressure on the Nile Goddess’ throat…squeezing…squeezing…
Candace strained to break free. She tried to wrench her other arm from Jackson’s grip so as to gain room to direct her staff. Jackson tightened his hold on both her arm and throat. The Goddess’ struggle began to slacken.
Could he do this? He questioned himself. Could he kill her…like this…in cold blood? A former colleague?
A warning alert interrupted his musing. His scanner detected massive air displacement, an indicator of something or someone moving very, very fast. The threat was inbound on his five.

Hello Black Science Fiction Society,

I am a co-producer of a TV series written and directed by Keith Josef Adkins (Girlfriends tv show) called The Abandon.

We've been told there is no audience for a sci-fi show with a black cast and therefore are attempting to shoot & release it ourselves.

I am contacting you in hopes that you can forward our indiegogo link for The Abandon (indiegogo.com/theabandon) to members of your community as well as blogs that you use for information updates and bulletins.

ABOUT THE ABANDON:

The Abandon is a sci-fi TV series.  After a possible alien invasion, five black men discover they may be the last humans on Earth and quickly learn the importance of survival, loyalty and manhood.

Kendall - early 30s, an unemployed attorney, divorced, but lots of vices

Craig - early 30s, a lit professor, calm demeanor

Aaron - early 30s, computer engineer, urban flavor

Dennis - early 30s, attorney, ladies' man, very smart

Jeff - early 30s, graphic designer, intellectual, bohemian

Friends from college, these five men will also discover why they are being hunted down by an alien species. And why the alien species may have a message that will disrupt the entire universe.

The Abandon is inspired by my desire to see black and brown people work in the sci-fi genre. It is inspired by knowing so many black people who deeply love and respect the sci-fi genre and my interest in making them happy.

Future episodes will use flashbacks to introduce significant others, family, co-workers, and the hours leading up to the invasion.

A LITTLE ABOUT KEITH:

My name is Keith Josef Adkins. I'm an award-winning playwright and screenwriter. Several years ago I worked as TV writer for the very popular show Girlfriends starring Tracee Ellis Ross.  I have pitched ideas to networks and studios and penned a few original pilots.  I even wrote and directed a few short films which screened in Toronto, Berlin and Atlanta.

I love sci-fi. I watch stories about UFO sightings and close encounters of the third kind.  Alien and Aliens are two of my favorite films.  Sci-fi provides me the opportunity to imagine a world where race, gender and class are insignificant and the only thing that matters is humanity's responsibility to preserve earth and each other.

I always get these in my email and have kind of ignored them, but with so many of us involved in creating and producing our own materials maybe some of this production music will be useful.  I am thinking of getting a set just in case.

http://www.footagefirm.com/freeacousticproductionmusic.html?utm_source=AcousticMusicGraphicaltoFFOthers&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=AcousticMusicGraphicaltoFFOthers 

Maybe it will be of use to someone!

They plan to offer an Applied Physics section July of 2012.

Technology Review: Science Journal Produces a Different Kind of Viral Video
Web site: JoVE.com

In the wake of the Fukushima nuclear disaster that occurred 15 months ago, the American public would be very displeased to know of the imminent potential for American children to play and frolic on their glowing backyards.  

It’s actually quite comedic how the general consensus has allowed distraction and propaganda to fog the path that will ultimately trace back to the root of the problem.

Once I turn into a radioactive mutant/zombie, maybe my dancing skills will start to improve by 30%.  Finally, I can get that Thriller sequence down like a legendary pro.

http://evilforalltime.blogspot.com/2012/05/contaminated-soil-may-prove.html

//////////////////////////////

Enter Kenneth Neal (you can call me Ken):

A multimedia journalist doing my part to promote social, cultural, and class destruction awareness with my blog.

Thank you for your time. If you have any questions after viewing my work, feel free to let me know.

-Kenneth Neal, A Modern Day Abolitionist

 Facebook, "Ken Project-EFAT"

 evilforalltime.com/

From one vet to all others...

Memorial Day Quotes

When last we saw our heroes, they were brought to the man who saved them. But why?...

link: TO LANDS FAR AFIELD

I might get rid of the daggers.

Afro-Futuristic ViSions -

Supernatural

Although an Afro-Futurist may use terminology to inspire interest and fire (inspiration, zeal) in their readers, DO NOT BE FOOLED. It is with the sincerest heart that their goal is to bring about the natural spontaneity of our being within the framework and outer region of our culture. 
It would be an injustice for an Afro-Futurist to stagnate themselves and their readers with the constraints of language which originally 'impressed' upon them the need to move away from the cultural dogma of science fiction and paranormal. 
An Afro-Futurist does their best to incorporate foundation of their culture with the given tools they have and in most cases been raised in. The Anglish Language. 
It is not our goal to express a hatred nor a disdain for the language unless we make strides to speak our own tongue along with others. Even in such a case, hatred and disdain, only causes structural and organ (sphere) disruption, as seen in the case of those with said 'diseases'. 
One word that seems to cause alot of attraction is SUPERNATURAL. When the average or even 'conscious' person hears this word, immediately there is a feeling of superiority, rush of adrenaline, curiosity and all manner of self-imposed and induced energies that follow. However, I am here to tell you...it is nothing special. Nothing more special than the wind that you cannot see but feel and then reflect on the concept of what is unseen and so and so. 
In my case, I write from experience, the swirl of cycles, the breeze outside my window, the breeze inside my chest, the unfolding of the expression of our organs (spheres) and the movement of our culture within all objects. So basically, the word SUPERNATURAL is like a redbull jolt of bs. Reminds of the scene with Wendy and Prince when she said to him "We do it only to make you feel good." However, it seems we all need a jolt from time to time. 
AND at the same point the following definition will only leave you boxed in!!!!
1.
of, pertaining to, or being above or beyond what is natural; unexplainable by natural law or phenomena; abnormal.
2.
of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or attributed to God or a deity.
3.
of a superlative degree; preternatural: a missile of supernatural speed.
4.
of, pertaining to, or attributed to ghosts, goblins, or other unearthly beings; eerie; occult.

So to end off you can restart a new cycle of thought. Watch your terminology or you may become terminally ill.

Visit http://www.djadjanmedjay.com/ to support my work. Follow my screeches (only small birds tweet) at https://twitter.com/#!/DjaDjaNMedjay

Bought mine Tuesday...

Movie Site: RedTails2012
Amazon links:
Red Tails DVD
Red Tails Blu-Ray
Red Tails - Instant Video
Red Tails Reborn - Documentary

Today i joined, the Black science fiction site and it's been a wonderful pleasure the warm welcomes the great folks i am truly best by great creative minds like myself

http://http://wix.com/chynamccoy/baynelegacyapocalypse

Please enjoy the Bayne legacy website.

Right now i'm working on raising funds in order to immediately start production on the Bayne Legacy apocalypse Graphic Novel. Looking for this franchise and Bayne to walk amongst the many greats.

I just remembered another book by a black writer that I reviewed on Mondo Ernesto

BIG MACHINE is by Victor LaValle, who admits to being a horror fan, and lists Stephen King and Ambrose Bierce as influences.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2009

NOT JUST ANY OLD BIG MACHINE

It was the cover of Victor LaValle’s Big Machine that caught my eye. Automatic pistols, cats, ghostly black people, and an array of objects dancing in a white background, under the red, swirly letters. It suggested hardboiled mayhem, but was so un-noir.

It’s the Twenty-First Century, folks. Noir is getting to be cliché. Black translated into French ain’t enough. We need more than darkness. How about some ultraviolet – the invisible light that makes the scorpions glow in the dark? Just a humble suggestion.

Anyway, the flaps and blurbs mentioned Hieronymus Bosch and paranormal investigations – could be kinda weird. Then I read a review that compared it to Ishmael Reed’s Mumbo Jumbo, which I consider to be one the great novels of the Twentieth Century. I ended up plunking down some hard-earned money for it.

It’s not the Mumbo Jumbo of our century – we’ll be lucky if we see such a thing – but I was not disappointed. The range of traditions that LaValle draws upon include Ishmael Reed, Chester Himes, Octavia Butler, and Philip K. Dick. He admits to being a horror fan, uses a quote from John Carpenter’s The Thing as an epigram, and lists Shirley Jackson, T.E.D. Klein, Stephen King, and “my man” Ambrose Bierce as influences. He’s not your typical African American writer, and this book will probably not become an Oprah selection.

Big Machine is the story of Ricky Rice, an ex-junkie janitor, who was raised in a cult that is truly bizarre but disturbingly believable. He is recruited into a group of psychic investigators, because he can hear The Voice. He is drawn into the wars between secret societies that include the one he grew up in. The story tears back and forth through time, revealing him and his world in startling, jagged chunks like brutal time-travel. And where it ends up is far beyond, and more fantastic than I was hoping for. Fans of the science fiction/fantasy/horror megagenre will enjoy the mindblowing conclusion.

The “paranormal” entities in the book are truly something different, have the texture of reality, and stand out in this age of cheap fantasy media overload.

Part of me wonders why Will Smith and Denzel Washington aren’t fighting over the movie rights, but this book digs deep into heroin, race, religion, politics, and other specters that are haunting Twenty-First Century America. It’s scary in a way that “horror” loving pop culture will have a hard time cozying up to. Which makes it a better book, and one to look out for.

http://www.mondoernesto.com/2009/10/not-just-any-old-big-machine.html

Crawling the Jefferies Tube - Captain Montgomery Scott

CNN: In the end, it was Scotty who got beamed up