BLOGS

Jackson shoved the Goddess aside and turned in the direction of the source just as a streak of blue grazed him. The contact was peripheral but imbued with enough force to send Jackson spinning to the ground.
Marty Buckles, also known as the Blue Blur, the fastest man in the universe, stopped on a dime. He wore wind resistant head to toe blue spandex with blue-tinted wraparound sunglasses.
He threw a frat boy grin at the Nile Goddess. “Boy, I wish I could have recorded what I just saw. Ace nearly had you down for the count, lady!”
Candace straightened, rubbing her throat, murder burning a ruby light in her eyes. “If you don’t shut your insufferable trap, I’ll put you down!”
The speedster raised a lewd brow. “I think I’d like that.” Then he was off.
“I’ll bet you would,” the Goddess murmured irately.
The Blue Blur bowled into Jackson at a speed that most certainly earned him his sobriquet, and held on tight. “How ‘bout a quick ride, Ace?”
The Blur held Jackson for little over two seconds, which in distance translated to six long blocks. He let go and halted, but Jackson kept going, sailing across a park, through a playground until he collided with a tree, rupturing its trunk to splinters. Jackson lay curled on the grass, emergency bells and whistles again filling his helmet with a low key racket.
The Blue Blur was far from the strongest member of the Guardian Protectors. Still, even a rabbit, moving at supersonic speed, could cause considerable damage if it bumped into something.
Jackson stood shakily, orienting himself. He spotted the Blue Blur standing on the other end of the park wearing a cocky smirk. The next second the speedster was gone…in motion!
Jackson didn’t think. He acted. He powered his foot repulsers. Tiny thrusters in the soles of his metal boots lifted him straight up. At the same time he ejected a dark gray marble size object from his lower torso harness. The object fell in the Blue Blur’s path and detonated. The impending blast threw the speedster back as if he’d bounced off a steel wall. Clods of dirt and grass, mixed with a bubbling froth of black smoke, bloomed from a ten-yard diameter crater gouged by the explosion.
The Blue Blur flopped limply on his back, the wind knocked out of him.
“Surprise, surprise,” Jackson taunted. He switched his thrusts to flight mode and glided out of the park. The mayor had evacuated the entire southern district of Valor City at Jackson’s request. He needed to keep the battle within its bounds.
Something struck his right shoulder as he zipped over a wide avenue. Jackson spiraled out of control before regaining enough of his bearings to manage an off balance landing. He cast his gaze about until his threat sensor locked onto a red Ford Taurus 30 to 40 yards in the direction from which he came.
The car suddenly disassembled. Its parts shifted and shuffled in a dizzying array of motion that resolved into a man. At least from all appearances.
George Kennan, aka MachineWare, always had more of an affinity for gadgets than people. His psychic ability to manipulate machines made him a valuable asset to the Guardian Protectors. But as Kennan, little by little, converted himself into a gadget, that’s when the corruption set in. It could be said that his humanity and all the compassion and empathy it entailed diminished with his imbibing of a new cybernetic component.
Ropes of super hardened overlapping metal coils, connected to metal plates, layered MachineWare’s guant frame. Only his face remained bare of any markers denoting his bizarre transformation. He raised his right arm and it reconfigured into gatling gun. The gun’s eight barrels rotated and a flaming chatter of titanium bullets ripped forth.
Jackson staggered backwards as a sleet of hot metal pounded his suit. He pushed outward with his mind, extending the range of his shield to approximately seven feet in front of him. Waves of bullets deflected off the shield.
MachineWare raised his other arm. It lengthened and thickened in a clanking whir of adjustable parts, forming a long-barreled cannon. A black missile whisked out of the cannon’s maw, plunging into the shield. A scorching shower of released energy gushed from the shattered missile, winking the shield out of existence propelling Jackson into a brick walled corner drug store.
MachineWare hurled five more missiles after the first, and the entire storefront, along with a good chunk of the building that housed it disappeared in a fiery, demolition collapse.
An ashen cloud belched from the flame-smothered ruin, encroaching on daylight like a horde of demon wraiths springing from the underworld.
MachineWare’s armaments retracted into his body. He stood before this howling destruction he’d wrought, unaffected by the smoke and heat, unmoved by his action. His expression held a very machine-like dearth of emotion.
“Pity, Victor Jackson. You should never have opposed us.”
“Pity on you, George. You should never have gone rogue.”
MachineWare whirled to find Jackson standing behind him.
Before the cyborg could react, Jackson triggered a beam from his ordnance bracelet.
A crackling web of electromagnetic energy surrounded MachineWare. The cyborg quaked violently, his previously impassive face, twisted in a convulsion of agony. When the web vanished MachineWare crumpled to the pavement in a short-circuited heap.
Jackson pumped enough EM into MachineWare to plunge of all of Valor City into Stone Age darkness. It would require ten times that amount to fully and permanently disable him.
Jackson had neither the time nor the output to finish Kennan off.
A cold wind whipped around him. It was a winter-like gust in the middle of a humid summer day. Dark storm clouds boiled into sudden existence overhead. The odd weather was no natural occurrence. The wind grew more frigid, more active, becoming a raging twister.
Jackson powered his thrusts to get away, but the savage funnel snared him with irresistible force, driving him skyward.
In a wink, the twister vanished and Jackson found himself face to face with the tornado’s conjurer, a flame-haired woman called Windrider.
Valerie Hewitt had been a climatologist in a past life. Ironic.
Windrider crossed her forearms. A tendril of lightning danced from the sky, poured into her body, surging out of her hands in a pulse of linear energy directed at the armored man.
Jackson extended his contact shield, blocking the pulse. He countered with a salvo of rockets.
Windrider waved an arm, scattering the rockets with a high speed blast of wind.
“Give it up, Jackson!” Windrider derided, her crimson mane waving in a self generating breeze like flickering candle light. Her sky blue cloak vividly contrasted the yellow body suit that hugged her comely contours like a perfectly fitted glove. “You can’t beat all of us. Hell, you can’t beat one of us!”
“I’d say I’ve been holding my own pretty well so far,” Jackson retorted.
The air temperature around him dipped drastically, frosting his armor. Within seconds he was encased in a block of ice.
“It’s a cold, cold world, Jackson.”
Windrider watched with psychotic glee as the man in armor plunged ground ward from well over ten thousand feet.
Jackson didn’t doubt that he would survive the fall, even encased in a ton of ice. He just preferred not to experience it.
He ignited his shoulder emitter. The light’s coherence bored through a section of ice, providing a pocket of space for his emitter’s turret to rotate. He also powered every thruster pimple on his armor, creating a sweltering buildup of heat. The ice dissolved to the point where Jackson could apply brute strength to break out. With servo-powered arms and legs, he hammered away at his confinement until he burst free in a sparkling cloud of ice crystals.
Jackson righted himself, and boosted his thrusters beyond their maximum limit, accelerating upward as if he had been launched from a rail gun. He fired over two dozen rockets at Windrider.
The weather-manipulator batted the projectiles aside with directed wind just as she had done the first time. The rockets twirled every which way, but Jackson linked on to one. He displaced the sole rocket’s internal guidance with manual.
Windrider crossed her arms, summoning a second bolt of lightning.
Jackson stayed on his trajectory toward her, making no attempt at evasive maneuvering. He focused on the rocket, bringing it about, lining it up with its target.
Windrider must have sensed something. She glanced behind her just as lightning channeled through her body. She caught the most fleeting glimpse of the rocket and extended a hand toward it, redirecting the electrical energy pulse intended for Jackson.
Pulse and rocket met point blank.
A blinding, deafening eruption birthed from the collision. A flaming fist knocked Windrider out of the sky.
Jackson didn’t know if she was dead or alive. He didn’t try to find out. He ignored her and headed south, deeper into the district, where he needed to be. He checked his power levels and grimaced. 47 percent reading. Not good. His power plant was nearly depleted and his diagnostic screen painted a bleak picture of points of structural damage. Some of his primary functions were so busted he had to switch to auxiliary. He needed to keep this contest going until he was in a position to implement Phase Two.
A warning alert. Danger flew at him fast. Jackson pulled directional data from his AVD and banked to avoid what was coming…too late!

So I had the artist for my adult web comic take a crack at the Geist just for fun, It came out pretty cool but the original is till the best. Shout out to Garvoe.

Technorati - Education in Rural India

This is an open letter I penned that's gotten quite a few hits on my Scribd.com account. It apparently struck a nerve.

It is an admitted rant, and a "Perchance to Dream" (quite off the Shakespearean original meaning), yet I'd rather dream and vent my frustrations at the inane "solutions" our leaders forward than to comply with muted silence, or impotent apathy.

It is also sad commentary that the complexity of speech by lawmakers has markedly declined over time, paralleling our collective preening for the clever soundbite suitable for cable television and You Tube; limiting thought process and debate to the infamous 140 characters...

...and, preening peacocks seldom come to consensus.

"Education is a basic necessity. It prepares, widens and allows exposure to the entire world through the mind. A sound education implies better quality of thought, which results in superlative quality of life."

Read more: link here, and below photo above. Similar sentiments expressed in this article (a very interesting cartoon that for a brief time, I lived).

Open Letter

I'm jumping off the walls!!!
The Serpent Cult is now available in PRINT!
So for those who love to read action adventure WHILE actually FEELING the pages and the weight of the book in your hands you can grab it on CreateSpace or at Amazon

Of Course for those trendy techo savy futurists it's also good to go on Kindle and NOOK!


I'm working on my own Website now where I'll be posting all things Mountairy Rock!
Your Boi,
Howard Night (The NIGHTMANAGER!!)

The light of the new sun cut a path across the quilt. They slumbered beneath a dark warm world all their own; such was the womb of love. He opened his eyes recalling the name ‘Black Sea’ from dreams, dreams that reflected his life as it had been and now was. Dreams of past consorts most helpful some harmful but thankful for each one because without them he would not be with her. He looked at her in his arms, her back against his chest, As they lay on their sides completely content after a night of steaming love that cooled in the evening air, cooled, but not extinguished like stars in the night sky. He had felt apprehensive about her at first her nature was secretive and that troubled him until he learned that is was not her intention just her disposition. He had hoped one day to learn all of her secrets and in doing so the nature of the Universe itself. He descended under the covers, tracing small kisses at the small of her back, pulling moan from her lips and causing a quick chill to be sent up her spine. He moved back up and kissed her shoulders, light air string instruments played in the approaching sunlight, as music filled the room. He didn’t want to leave that spot, didn’t need to, his desire to stay there with her in his arms- warm quilt around him and her scent gracing his nostrils- was like that of a drowning man to breath. He smiled at this thought; this was it, the world he had dreamed of as a boy playing adventure with his brother and friends. That never ending world of fantasy and a romance that transcended the language he spoke, where nothing could go wrong and if it did, he could brave it. She rolled over to face him, eyes hazy but loving and kissed him sweetly on the lips, it was the good morning of lovers, a greeting that didn’t need words. It was as if the intent had been passed through the look and the lips. This was magick he thought kissing her back. She laid her head on his chest and kissed his cheek; she then took his hand and laced her fingers between his. He held it up and kissed it and she did the same, this was their ritual, familiar and old but never tiring, never faltering. Soft lyrics filled the room intensifying the feel of warmth, the as a bright sensation expanded in his heart. He looked at her again and kissed her forehead. She looked up smiled and kissed him on the lips again. Grabbing the covers, he enveloped them in the darkness of the womb of love. This was the world between Light and Song, This was the place of peace, of darkness and safety of love and acceptance, passion and joy, The world between Light and Song. This was Heaven and its many layers.

It's been so long since I've written any poetry. This one visited me and I wanted to share it :).

I cannot leave her

her pungent soil calls to me

an earthy prenumbra

an orange harvest moon

that bathes me in her light

Sweet muse whisper softly to me

that which is never forgotten

with drum conjure my memory

I am your daughter 

Copyright 2012 Valjeanne Jeffers

Dilbertdotcom

Tweedle Dum: If you think we're waxworks, you ought to pay, you know.
Tweedle Dee: Contrariwise, if you think we're alive you ought to speak to us.
Tweedle Dum, Tweedle Dee:That's logic.

The Curious Wavefunction: Physics's PR Problem

First things first. If you're reading this without having read Part I, get the hell away from me! You're obviously not smart enough to survive the Zombie Apocalypse and when you get torn apart, you'll take a bunch of survivors with your dumb ass. Go back and read Part I before me or one of the other survivors 'mistake' you for an infected and bust you in the melon!

Now for you survivors who've made it this far, you've had to come to grips with some hard and harsh rules so far and I'm sorry to tell you that it's not going to get any easier. So, you've got your 'mind right', an improvised weapon and have no doubt cracked open some infected skulls to good effect. At the moment you're in good shape.

So let's surmise the most likely scenario you'd find yourself in when the ZA initially goes down. You're far from home in a populated area in a building of some sort. As you hold your bent and bloodied metal folding chair breathing harder than a racehorse that just escaped the glue factory you're thinking, 'What do I do now?' Well since you've come to terms that going home right now isn't an option, there are some things you have to do asap.

Rule #8 - Get clear of the chaos

Once you've fought your way clear enough to make a break for it, you need to get clear of the mayhem. You're still in the initial wave of the event and right now your fellow humans are as dangerous to you as the zombies. People are running from the infected like zebra being driven by hyenas. You want to be as far from that as possible. Whether alone or in a group, your first priority is to find or create a reasonably secure location to hide and allow the first wave to go by. There's nothing you can do for those crowds of people being chased past your hiding place, so keep quiet and keep still. The infected at this stage are no doubt still able to see relatively well and will go after anything that moves. You never chased after the parade, don't start now.

Rule #9 - Be aware of your surroundings

This rule will always be important, but especially so in the first hours of the event. You've managed to get yourself into a nice hidey hole, but did you notice if there were as they are called by the military, 'avenues for emergency egress'? Simply put, is there another way out that's zombie free? Not good if you've holed up in a place with one way in and out when an annoyingly observant walker figures out you're in there. Always be aware of where you are or the infected will do it for you.

Rule #10 - Avoid large groups with a vengeance

That old saying, 'there's strength in numbers' applied when there weren't hordes of mindless undead freaks coming to eat everyone. On the one hand, large groups are good because in the rush the odds of you getting dragged down are lessened. However, take a look at the nature documentary 'Planet Earth' and watch the segment where a massive shoal of herring too numerous to count gets annihilated by swordfish, dolphins, sharks, tuna and sea birds. At the end, all there is left are shiny scales floating down into the depths. That will be you if you're lucky.

Eventually, you will need to link up with additional survivors. But remember; lions and wolves follow the herds not the other way around. Here are a few extra points to remember:

Do not go to the military or police for help

I know, 'But they're there to help us!' Yeah, I wouldn't bet my life on that. With the military, the odds are good they have orders (as the Marines describe) to 'secure the area'. That's 'marinese' for 'kill everything that moves'. More than likely in the case of a catastrophic outbreak, they have orders to 'sanitize the area'. You want to be reaaaaly far away from that. The Police on the other hand, are no doubt  overwhelmed by the situation and will be looking to secure their own interests. Oh and they have guns. 

Stay away from shopping malls, stores and churches

Yes, you'll definitely need stuff from those places and you may want to call upon God for salvation, but remember things are still in 'panic mode'. Those places are like watering holes and lots of people will be there trying to loot. All that activity will ring the dinner bell for every walker in the vicinity. Trust me, come back a lot later. Zombies don't steal.

For God's sake avoid Hospitals

If you have a relative or other loved one in a hospital, they're already dead. Unless they went to get an ingrown toenail removed or get a cast taken off, they fall under rule #7. Besides, think for a moment. What's the one thing a Hospital or Clinic is going to have lots of? Dead and dying all either getting up off the table or already chowing down on somebody. Pass.

Rule #11 - Stay mobile

When things die down (no pun intended) you'll need to break cover and get moving. For the most part, the infected will still be following in the wake of large groups of people fleeing them. You'll have to move out after they pass because you no doubt weren't lucky enough to find a hide with plenty of food, water and weapons, good sewage facilities and could be defended easily by your grandmother. With that in mind, you'll have to keep on the move. You and any survivors still with you better be ready to roll out in an instant. Some tips for staying mobile are:

No loads

If you can't carry an item and run at flank speed, leave it behind. Don't be like that moron caught on the Katrina video carrying a damn flatscreen TV through the flooded streets of the decimated city. If it's too heavy or unwieldly, you don't need it. That also goes for people. You parents or individuals getting your maternal/paternal instincts on better keep that in mind too. If a kid or adult can't keep up, you'll face rule #7 whether you want to or not.

Don't depend on motor vehicles

Cars, motorcycles, boats or helicopters are great if you can access them. But in the initial crush, they'll be more hindrance than benefit. You will need a vehicle to get some distance from populated areas. But, you want to avoid them like the plague (pun intended) during the early part of the event. People panic behind the wheel similar to those poor saps you watched get chased down the street by the infected. There will be accidents a plenty and the infected will be attracted to the commotion. The major concern with motor vehicles will be fuel.

Stay off the main streets and roads

Because so many people will have accidents and bail on their vehicles to escape the infected, all main thoroughfares will be all but impassable. Take a look at any major evacuation where things got out of hand and that's nothing compared to what will go down during a ZA event! Stay off the interstates unless scavenging which at this stage will be too early for you to be doing. Stick to the side streets and side roads. Also be prepared to abandon the vehicle if you reach an area which is impassible.

Do not rely on animal transportation

Though a horse has the advantage of not needing gasoline, no horse in its right mind will stay calm when confronted by a mass of undead coming from every direction! An animal that large will attract walkers far and wide. It is certain the animal will panic and throw you leaving you injured just enough to allow the infected easier access to you both.

Rule #12 - You can't fight them all

It's a given now that you and your fellow survivors are mobile either on foot or in vehicles. However, you'll need weapons 'cause you'll have to fight sooner than later. When choosing weapons initially, you had to improvise and that folding chair and table leg worked out just fine. Now you have to get serious about your selection of practical weapons. Of course there are guns and you will need some. But just like vehicles and fuel, you'll need ammunition. Lots of it. 

Your primary weapon should be a hand held implement that can deliver blunt force damage (like a bat, hammer or club), cleaving damage (like a meat cleaver,  knife or sword) or both (like an axe.) Your primary should be light enough to wield without trouble, but heavy enough to quickly put down a walker.

Don't get overconfident

Just because you cracked open some infected melons and gunned down their friends, don't get cocky! The most important thing to remember about this rule is; there's a poopload more of them than there are of you. Just because you've made your 'bones' whacking walkers, don't lose perspective on how dangerous those damn things are. Save that ammo for when the infected try to hem you and your fellow survivors in and it's time to make an aggressive tactical withdrawal.

So now that you and your remaining fellow survivors have managed to get clear of the crush, are armed and mobile, you've beaten the odds so far.... In the final part of this guide, you'll learn what's needed to survive in the long run. Hang in there, keep those eyes peeled and don't brake for walkers!

© 2012 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved. Images used are owned by their prospective copyright holders.

I use Sketchbook Pro for my thumbnails and Manga Studio Debut to lay out the book.  I also draw thumbnails in pencil and scan into Sketchbook Pro.  This is my first attempt so the learning curve is quite high but the process is fun.  Like being a kid again!  I created a twelve page teaser and got some feedback.  Spent the time since retooling the script for the first issue.  I'll spend the summer completing the first issue

A video link to explain from the founder, brother Refa 1

The project is will happen regardless, but join this campaign like this too:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/aerosoulart/aerosoul

Cassandra "applying physics":

After spending the Memorial Day Weekend watching both seasons of 'The Walking Dead', it occurred to me there needs to be a set of rules to guide those who plan on surviving a Zombie Apocalypse.

Though there are people out there who are actually stocking up on guns and what-not in preparation of a real 'pock-y-clipse' featuring zombies or worse, 'furriners', I believe these rules will help them as well.

While your neighbors, co-workers, family and friends are freaking out as to 'what's going on?', you will no doubt have these rules hardwired into memory or on a cheat sheet you always keep with you. So pay close attention and take notes (no there won't be a quiz, but you damn sure don't want to fail the practical exam!)

Rule #1- Everything has changed

In every ZA flick you always hear people flipping out asking questions like, 'what's going on?', 'why is this happening?, yadda, yadda. The answers are simple: 'Mofo's are running around eatin' people en masse' and 'Because it is, now shut up and run for your life!'

From the moment you see the reporter and camera crew get overrun and eaten on TV or look out the window and see your neighbors literally ripping your former loudmouth neighbor to pieces, the world as you knew it is over. Accept it.

Rule #2 - All bets are off

In every ZA flick there's always someone whining about 'morality', 'feeling attachment for a zombified loved one' or 'being hostile because of racial, ethinc...' you get the picture. Let me break it down for you. First refer to Rule #1 when you want to rely on your usual thinking or modus operandi. Then recognize all that crap doesn't mean jack anymore. From now on, there are only two kinds of people left in the world; those who are not being eaten and those who are. In the ZA scenario, Humanity is back in 'Savannah Mode'. That means you and every red-blooded person still alive are 'rabbits' and there are hordes of hungry undead wolves on your tails. So that means the honkeys, chinks, greasers, spics, towel heads, redskins, dot heads and nigga's you were arguing with 10 minutes ago are now your allies! Every extra set of eyes and hands are going to come in damn handy. So you better get over your differences quick 'cause they no longer apply.

Rule #3 - Unless you're already there, Don't go home

What's the first thing you hear mofo's say when the feces hit the oscillating air flow cooling unit? 'I've got to get home! I've got to find my family!' Yeah, about that. Here's the thing. Odds are, stuff is jumping off in all directions. So the chances things are already popping off on the homefront are unfortunately pretty good. You're probably saying, 'but I've got to save my family!' Yeah, but you've got three major problems with that. Location, Distance and Time.

Location - If you're in a city, you've got your own problems. Cities are the overflowing 'cornucopia' of zombies. Depending on how fast the 'Sickness' is spreading, you may have only hours or moments to un-ass your current location before you get overrun and turned into 'zombie chow'.

Distance - If there's a considerable distance to cover like 10 miles or more, forget it. Yeah, yeah, I know, 'I've got to save my family!' Well consider this, they've got the exact same issues you do at the same time. Depending on their location, they could already be ass deep in zombies whilst you're trying to literally 'fight' your way through traffic! More than likely you never got around to turning your house, duplex or apartment into the armed citadel of your dreams fully stocked with food, water and armaments. With that in mind, your home is no doubt just as 'soft' when it comes to keeping out zombie hordes as everybody else's is! So more than likely your familia are probably fighting off the hungry dead as you read this....

Time - The real 'killer' in this scenario is time. The more time passes, the worse the situation is going to get. In the initial hours of the outbreak, the number of infected will grow exponentially. Before or if Rigor Mortis sets in, the zombies are going to be fast. Damn fast. Unless you've kept up your high school track skills or made your living as a purse snatcher, you'll have to fight and run. Clock keeps ticking, you're going to get tired 'cause you can run on adrenaline only so long. The infected unfortunately don't have that problem. So the more time you'll have to spend trying to get home, the greater the odds your family will have run for their lives by the time you get there.

So even now if you're still saying, 'but I've got to save my family!' refer to rules #1 and #2.

Rule #4 - Be prepared to go 'Conan' on a mofo

Let's face facts. In the ZA scenario, you've got dead mofo's trying their damndest to turn you into 'Fool under glass'. You also have around you as Agent 'K' from MIB eloquently phrased it; "A bunch of dumb, dangerous and panicky animals' represented by your fellow homosapiens. 'Wise men' by the way who in blind panic are knocking each other over and trampling the fallen, thus making the zombie's dining selection process that much easier.

In order to clear a safe path for yourself and your fellow survivors, you're going to have to get your hands dirty. Big time. It is highly probable, the most efficient way to dispatch the infected will be a shot or crushing blow to the head. Let's just say it is all but certain you won't have a rifle, pistol or assault weapon with plenty of ammo on hand when things start jumping off.  You're going to have to get a suitable blunt or edged weapon... right now. When you do, you're going to have to get as Clint Eastwood said in "Unforgiven", "... Plum mad dog mean." That means if it's dead, bash it in the head. If it's live, bash it 'till it dies.

What? You're saying I should kill potential survivors? If they are panicked and are about to put you in a situation where you can't escape, yup. With extreme prejudice. In the film '28 Days Later' when Selena thought for an instant her longtime comrade had been bitten, she instantly hacked him to death. Despite his screams, she mercilessly did him in. She survived. Let that be a lesson! If you have a problem with that your choices are; allow the person to turn and infect you and your fellow survivors or stop whining and accept  rules #'s 1 and 2 then dispatch your bud quick!

Rule #5 - Adapt

I cannot stress enough Rule #1. Because of rule #1, you must adapt to the new situation. Your days of corporate austerity, girly-girl chic or metrosexual style are over. Clothes that restrict movement or reveal skin are absolutely out! Perfume, cologne, scented deodorant, baby powder, scented soaps are also out. It's a pretty good guess the infected are working with the basic senses alone. It's probable dead noses could transmit sensory info for a while in the initial hours, days and weeks, as the sense of smell will be the primary source of detecting the living. You don't want to help them sniff you out 'cause you couldn't let go your fav' scent.

Adapting means you're going to have to do what the situation requires. If the only way to hide from 'Walkers' is to jump into a sewer, get to jumping. If you have to cover yourself in walker guts and gore to pass among them unnoticed, don't forget to get that hard to reach spot on your back!

If you are claustrophobic but the safest place to hide is an air conditioning vent, get your ass in there and keep your trap shut.

You will also have to change your behavior. If you're a talker when you're nervous, shut up. If you fidget, be still. You a farter when you get scared? Put a cork in it. Teeth chatter? Stick something between your teeth thick enough to keep your jaws from moving and bite down.

Rule #6 - Heroes get eaten

Before you say, 'but I've got to save people!' Yeah, when you can and if you can. But not at the expense of your own life. The price of selfless heroism is being dinner. Save your bravery for when you have to be cunning or stealthy or when it's time to bust open a hole so you and your fellow survivors can make a run for it. What your fellow survivors need to see from you is your determination to get out alive. If you've got a problem with that see rules #1 and 2.

Rule #7 - Let those who are about to die... die

This is the harshest rule of all and where rules #1 and #2 apply the most. It is safe to ascertain a ZA is an 'unnatural situation'. Now that you and your fellow survivors up to now are in a prey-predator dynamic, you have to recognize that everyone in the group ain't gonna' make it. Babies, young children, the extreme elderly, the non-mobile, semi-mobile injured/disabled and the mentally disabled will all be the first to go. I know, I know, 'but we have to help everybody!' Again, I refer you to rules #1 and #2.

Yes, it's a horrible thought to even think about babies, small children and grandma/granpa being devoured by zombies, but remember the rabbit analogy. There's a reason you never see baby or elderly rabbits in the wild. If you can see them something's about to eat them. Also, you have those individuals who get what is called 'Deathstruck'. Those who are deathstruck

are stricken with a panic that literally causes them to move or freeze in the path of potentially fatal activity. These people are dangerous! All too often those who are possessed of the heroic impulse leap to save these persons and usually both end up dead. In the situation of a ZA, that 'bad end' is certain. If someone is deathstruck and throws themselves into death's jaws, don't let their sacrifice go in vain!

These are just the first few hard and fast rules, for Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse. In Part II, you'll learn what's necessary for staying alive once you escape the initial event! Until then, RUN, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!

© 2012 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved. Images used are owned by their prospective copyright holders.

Chemistrylanddotcom

Physics Today: A Rydberg-atom photon source

I have read alot of books over the years, too many to count but now finally i can write my own books and i have plenty that i write from my mind not anyone elses.  I have currently 6 books that i am writing and cant wait to get these out of my head and down on paper. I have to title the last book still but i am working on it and this year alone i will have at least 2-3 books completed. I have been scouring the web looking for a site like this and did cartwheels when i found it. Black media is seriously deprived of any thing mainstream.  Oh sure we can put out a comedy show and be the but of every joke and get air time but what about some real quality movies? And why not Sci fy?  I think its time to change that and change lives and times as we know it. I dont know how many times i have went to the fantasy book section looking for a black face on the cover or in the author spot. Growing up i loved comics but always wondered where were the black heroes and heroines? When Milestone came online i went nuts and tried to grab everyone i could get my hands on. I knew they would kill it right away when it came out.  They still dont understand the black market and i dont think they want to up in hollywood. So yes we need to support each other but we need to do it with the knowledge as well which is the key to our weakness and our strength. Fantasy writing is a skill and one that we do well just from what i have seen on this site their are some very talented people on this site. I hope that my writings are met well here and are of substance enough to keep your interest and merit your comments and advice but we shall see.

Summer is here and so is the Priestess! Much has happened since the close of the saga which sent the

Priestess and those she loved across time. In the peaceful days that followed, the rhythm of the Valley's seasons allowed its residents to live and grow. Now as the now young adult Little Fish takes his first steps on his life's path a new threat from the Chief's past casts a dark shadow. Will the Priestess allow this new potential danger to threaten all she loves? The answer to that and more will be found in, 'The Priestess: A Question of Regret'!

Afro-Futuristic Visions -

Psychic 

It is important that an Afro-Futurist remain firmly rooted in their travel to unravel the expression of their culture, which lay in dormant in the bundles of strands (DNA) and stars (atoms/molecules) that circle about in their vessel (body). The culture of an Afro-Futurist is the living source (matrix) that gives birth to body, soul and spirit expression in this word. 
With that in mind, as we write, it is important to know the origin of some 'coinage' or 'sayings' that we use. 
To some, 'Psychic' ability is some strange occurrence outside the normal thought and concept of our everyday living and is often perceived as something supernatural. Yet to the Afro-Futurist, who is steadily seeking their roots through the use and exploration of Afro-Futurism, Psychic Ability is a birthright and an ability to use the senses and electrical pulses of the nervous system and brain in order to communicate with others and their environment.

Psychic - psychic 
1871 (n.) "a medium;" 1873 (adj.) "of or pertaining to the human soul" (earlier psychical, 1640s), from Gk. psykhikos "of the soul, spirit, or mind," from psykhe- "soul, mind" (see psyche). Meaning "characterized by psychic gifts" first recorded 1895.
clairvoyant 
"having psychic gifts," 1847 (in clairvoyance), earlier "having insight" (1670s), from Fr. clairvoyant "seeing clearly" (13c.), from clair (see clear) + voyant "seeing," prp. of voir, from L. videre "to see" (see vision). The noun in the psychic sense is first attested 1851, from the adjective; earlier it was used in the sense "clear-sighted person" (1794).
psi 
23rd letter of the Greek alphabet. Use for "psychic force, paranormal phenomenon" dates from 1942.

Within the framework of my own writing, I have taken to commitment to unravel the cloth (language) around concepts and disseminate (disseminate (v.) 
c.1600, from L. disseminatus, pp. of disseminare "to spread abroad, disseminate," from dis- "in every direction" (see dis-) + seminare "to plant, propagate," from semen (gen. seminis) "seed" (see semen). Related: Disseminated; disseminates; disseminating. M.E. had dissemen "to scatter" (early 15c.).)
the essence that is within, the essence that has the soul of our culture. I write about 'Psychic" occurrences from the standpoint of it being a natural progression of communication and in some circles an already naturally established communication. It is not my attention to create marvel and wonder about abilities that we are moving slowly back into.
In my first novel, Renpet, I spoke much about Psychic abilities:

Chapter Mdjw Shemt - The Cradle

...The term 'psychic' that the Terrans use so carelessly translates to regular communication in the lives of my people. Since we are leagues away from the Terrans on the evolutionary scale, none of my kind ever attempted a direct link with them. What my kind perceives as physical in relation to each other the Terrans might see as spirit or pure mind. Approaching Kenitha's mind I cautiously held it as one would a delicate object. Her defensive layers of energy are very sensitive but I am getting through without being detected...

Thank you for taking a few moments to read into my Afro-Futuristic Vision. Please spread the word and support my works at: http://www.djadjanmedjay.com/

Check out what I have in store for you. http://yvonnenicolas.wordpress.com/2012/05/29/great-reads-coming-your-way/

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.