That Which Remains


In the hollow of the years, haunted by all things past, I sought out the phantoms of a yesteryear, children now older than myself, cozy home a heap of mossy ruins, the forest path we once walked so freely now a traffic clogged highway.

I mourn in the quiet that which is gone from me yet that still remains and the sobs never do escape my throat.

The winds rush overhead, the sun rises and sets, and the waves break into white foam upon the stony shore.

I know now why I was meant to have forgotten and will try now to put it away from me, living in the moment eternal and never in my losses.

My family, my life, my tramping grounds are all new now and perhaps I’d best embrace them.  Soon enough I will have to let them free and some essence will yet remain, impervious to illusory Time.

 

Posted in ensoulment, Family, Kids, Poetry, Relationships, Thoughts and Dreams, Time, time-travel | Tagged | Leave a comment

Don’t be Shaken


I was shaken, not stirred, at the time I surprised my whole family by suddenly joining the Army when my confidence level was probably the lowest it had ever been.  I’d been completely betrayed by my first husband and come home deprived of my  first child with my tail between my legs.

Wait.  That doesn’t sound right.  Well, you know what I mean though, right?

Anyway, I told my mom, step-father, and little brother at dinner the day I enlisted and they about dropped their forks along with their jaws.  I was, after all, a soft-spoken, 5′ short, blow away skinny, 90-pound, fragile looking, innocent who’d just been taken in and taken advantage of by the Iranian Shi-ite husband of nightmares.  My sheer naivety was on display.  They’d been regarding me as some sort of invalid at that point (or maybe I was just made invalid in the other sense of the word) and here I was abruptly ducking their cover with no warning whatsoever.  Their protests were quick coming: 

“You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“They’ll chew you up and spit you out!”

“Don’t do this.  You know you won’t survive.  Don’t be ridiculous!”

“You’re not strong enough!”

“They’ll laugh when they see you coming!”

They couldn’t stop me though.  I went.  For various reasons, I felt I had to.

Our battalion was the first female one on Tank Hill at Fort Jackson, SC and the drill sergeants were pretty uneasy with the concept.  They ran us through the ringer of course and sometimes found us confounding.

They tried to teach us the only cadences they knew; mostly very sexist ones.  For instance:

“The prettiest girl
I ever saw
was sippin bourbon
through a straw
The prettiest girl
I ever saw
was sippin bourbon
through a straw

I walked right up
I sat right down
I ordered us
another round
I walked right up
I sat right down
I ordered us
another round

I picked her up
I laid her down
her long blond hair
lay all around
I picked her up
I laid her down
her long blond hair
lay all around…” and then it goes on rather pornographically.

We refused to sound off when the cadences went in this direction and were often yelled at for it.  Once, they even left us out in the pouring rain with our rifles after target practice, not willing to accept them back into the armory until we’d sing them this cadence.  Eventually, we gave in without actually giving in.  Our favorite cadence caller, a woman who could have doubled for Grace Jones and every bit as fierce, led us in the following:

“The cutest guy I ever saw, was drinking bourbon through a straw. I laid my hand upon his knee.  He said, ‘Trainee, you’re teasing me.’  I laid my hand upon his thigh, He said, ‘Trainee, you’re much too high…'”

All the drills and Top came surging out of Top’s office where they’d been drinking coffee and joking around all cozy like.  Consider that one of their number had recently gotten the boot after coming on to one of the female trainees and all of them were nervous about it, we’d definitely gotten their attention.  Our drills seemed flummoxed between wanting to yell at us again or laughing.  They did neither except for the solitary female drill (a frightful lady of ferocious temper) who seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face on.  Top, however, just told us we could turn our rifles in and be dismissed for the night.

Male and female trainee battalions were not allowed to talk to or even look at each other but somehow managed to shout flirtatious cadences when marching past one another just because….  and did quite a lot of note passing and push ups in that relation too.   I, of course, maintain my innocence in this matter, but the drills found it exasperating as they did nearly everything to do with female trainees.

 A little thing:  We could refuse to cut our hair like the guys did so long as we kept it pinned up under our caps when wearing BDUs or dress greens.  That’s what I did and the drills hated it.  

In PT uniform only could we at least go without caps, but the hair still had to be pinned up and mine, being waist long and very silk at the time, was a bit challenging without the cap on.  The pins kept slipping out and I wasn’t that good at pinning it up in the first place since this was the first time in my life I ever had to do it so well.  Under the hijab previously didn’t count because then, at least, I could always just wear a ponytail. 

So one evening, as I was finishing the evening run, all my bobbypins decided to pop out at once.  It was a conspiracy of pins I tell you and my long blond hair went flying free like a flag unfurled… right in front of my drill sergeant.  Oops.  So he called me in to yell at me about it then grabbed a handful of my hair and flashed a huge pair scissors in my face saying, “Keep it pinned up or I’ll cut it for you myself!”

The fact that I knew he didn’t have the right kept me calm in the face in the face of his threatening BS and I told him, “Go ahead and do it, Drill Sergeant, and I’ll say you touched me.”

He dropped the scissors and my hair at once and raised his hands.  “Okay, okay!  You win! But please…. Please just quit.  Drop out.  You can go back to wherever it is you came from.”  And there were actual tears at the corner of his eyes. 

I told him “no” and kept meeting every requirement, still looking like a 90-pound weakling, but a determined one.  I couldn’t imagine why he wanted me to drop out, but it made me all the more determined not to, even if it was just to spite him.

In Advanced Individual Training (AIT), there were new challenges to be met.  Among them was the Army Smart Book we’d given at the beginning of Basic Training, which included everything we’d learned in Basic and some extra things besides.  We were expected to have memorized enough of it by now to be able to answer all sorts of random questions about things in the book, from identifying craft belonging to friends and foes to how to treat an abdominal wound on the battle field to the ranges of various weapons, etc.  We had to answer a question of our drill’s choosing before we could take weekend liberty.  Otherwise, we’d have to stay in the barracks and clean or something.

The drill always had a wicked stern expression on her face when she asked her question and then followed our answers with the question, “Are you sure?”

I always answered that honestly.  Either I was certain of my answer and said so or I’d just admit I wasn’t sure.  I missed some liberties with uncertainties but never backed down when I was certain and then, at least, I wouldn’t miss out.  I understood her point though.  She wanted us to be as confident in our answers as in ourselves.  We had to trust our own knowledge when we knew something and admit it when we didn’t.

It seemed like such a little petty thing at the time but now, years later, in the messed up world of modern PeeCeeism run amok, it means a lot more.

Establishment types have a way of making you question yourself, make you doubt what you see, hear, read, feel, know, or believe.  You’re supposed to get with the party line.  You are not supposed to call a spade a spade nor in any way comment on or notice things you’re not supposed to.  They’ll call your credibility into question.  They’ll call you racist even when it has nothing to do with race.  They’ll call you crazy or degenerate if you disagree with the viewpoint they’re trying to cram down your throat.  Their arguments , weak as they are, don’t even have to make sense.  They’ll call you an intolerant bigot if you won’t back down on what you know to the core of your being is right.

Don’t back down.

PeeCeeism has replaced religion in the west as their best weapon against nonconformity, free speech, and free thought for at least 30 years now and now we have to shake ourselves away from it or there will very soon be no freedom left for any of us.

That’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it.  I will not be made to doubt myself and I will not stand silent when I things going very very wrong.  How about you?

Posted in News and politics, Relationships, religion, social pychology, Women's Issues | 2 Comments

Thoughts & Dreams


1. “They are treating this as a criminal act, not a terrorist-related incident.” — From an article I read this morning about a gun-man in the White house. WTF? There’s a difference? Maybe that distinction in terms is one of the things (other than Obama) that is actually aiding terrorism instead of fighting it. It’s a set of CRIMES people! Usually exceptionally violent ones. Why not just treat it that way?

2. Religion is a device for controlling and/or even enslaving people on a mass scale in the physical realms as well as the spiritual. Yes, every religion includes some truth, some spiritual experience, some happy platitudes, and some benefit. They wouldn’t attract people if they didn’t. Same with telling a lie. The best lies include a truth that make people want to believe it. What a religion does in the hands of whomever wishes to wield this power over the masses is that it tells them what to think, to say, to do, and to believe. The advantage to power mongering authorities is that it can make the masses dependent on them for guidance and extremely malleable overall. They wouldn’t be that way if they could think for themselves without these ideological shackles. In fact, they’d very quickly progress past all need of interference in their daily or spiritual lives by authorities.

3. I got bitched out the other day over my rants about Islamists every time they attack and rape, murder, enslave, or torture innocents and all the apologists that so stupidly enable them to do so. It just angers and frustrates the hell out of me.  This person scolded me as a “fake” because, instead of going into mourning mode with the friends and family of the victims, I instead just express pure fury at the perpetrators.

I don’t really mourn. I know that death ends physical suffering and that the soul, the true person, just goes forth then, unencumbered. It’s something I hope their loved ones know and take to heart.

I just hate for people to be made to suffer and others to steal their temporal lives and/well-being/freedom for the sake of some lame-ass ideology that thrives on oppression, terrorism, hatred, slavery, and spilt blood. It’s so hateful it makes me hate its very existence. So my rants are about that. I want to END it. That is where my focus lies. I want to do everything in my power to defame it and remove it from the planet and its every excuse for existing.

4. I think Muslim people are as good or bad as any population but Islam itself makes them nonetheless dangerous. It’s teachings encourage oppression, pedophilia, rape, slavery, genocide, suppression, and extreme violence of every sort. Muslims do not, as a general rule, read that much though online we only see those that do or at least are fairly literate. This is not due purely to stupidity resulting from the inbreeding which is common in the Islamic world. No. It might be a factor, but not a huge one. See item 2.

Islam is the most controlling religion in the world with the possible exception (or at least company) of Scientology. The Koran is written in archaic Arabic that even modern-day Arabic speakers have trouble understanding. So they go to their clerics constantly to get interpretations of it. Islam is a very literal religion and upheld in extreme violence and force, so Muslims who want to practice it seriously spend a lot of time seeking interpretations of the Koran from their clerics and thus are completely in thrall of them. The clerics are the ones who organize riots and acts of terrorism.

So good Muslims are bad people but bad Muslims are good people who just don’t know about the bad stuff or do know but are terrified of leaving Islam and it’s Mafia like repercussions.

5. Islam is as dangerous to humanity as Nazism is so should definitely be banned.

6. Sunday night I dreamed of trying to affect the history of a certain city by dipping in and out of time to change little things here and there. The city was nice though: very clean and well laid out with many hanging gardens, trees and flowers everywhere between the fantastic architecture. Not sure what the problem was or if there was one. Maybe this was the ideal we were shooting for. I’m unclear about this.

After changing things in the time stream, I tried to return to the city and ended up in the middle of a tundra. Same geological position, different climate, no city. The springy purple heather underfoot was crispy with a light sheath of frost. The air was very sharp and fresh but included a hint of something pungent.

When I turned to look around, I saw a dead animal not far from me. It was horned, hooved, and had black and white fur. It looked like something between a bison and deer but it was something I’d never seen before. Around me, at a distance, there were others grazing.

There was nothing feeding on the dead one and maybe it hadn’t been dead very long because it wasn’t nearly as stinky as it looked like it should be. When I went close to examine it I found that there were patches of flesh carefully excised from it: the lips, ears, eyes, and genitals. And there was no blood. It was like one of those mysterious and horrific cattle mutilations you read about in the local farmer’s journals. I took some pictures of it and then the tundra in general before spotting what appeared to be a person, a woman, walking toward me from out of a fog bank.

And then the mist swirled around me and the tundra vanished around me momentarily. I knew by that last that I’d slipped between-time again. But when I came back, there was the tundra again, with the dead animal, the live ones, and the woman walking toward me again, only much closer. I knew her face. She was me.

7. In the dream I had last night, I was visiting with both sets of grandparents (all dead) and my father at his home over there. His home there bore no resemblance to any that he lived in here. It was like a fun house. Everything for fun. Slides, ball pits, trampolines, swings, colorful gadgets.

We built one of these gadgets together. It was a cross between huge cuckoo clock and a music box. It was all clock work mechanics. Very entertaining to play with. Impossible to describe any better.

Scene shift and I’m among some teenage girls there and I’m just a teenager too. They’re being really bitchy to me. Making fun of me. Reminiscent of junior high and high school before I began to hang with my own clique of fellow outcasts.

I retreated from them and went to bed early in this big rambly strange house. But I didn’t sleep. Why sleep when I was already in a dream and full well knew it? I heard and felt this house give a sigh though and stared up at the ceiling where the sigh seemed to originate. It was faintly luminescent and I was horrified to notice it was sagging and covered with huge drops of some milky substance.

I knew the ceiling was going to collapse and went running out into the hall shouting for everyone to wake up because the ceiling was about to cave in. No response. I woke myself shouting, “I’m serious bitches! Get your asses out of bed before the ceiling falls on you!” Surprisingly, I hadn’t shouted this aloud in the physical world so didn’t wake Jeb. Surprising too that I cared about the bitches enough to want to save them. I’m not sure why.

Posted in Animals, Architecture, death, dreams, Family, History, Middle East, News and politics, Paranormal, population, Relationships, religion, soul, Spiritual, Terrorism, Thoughts and Dreams, Time, time-travel, Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Mind Slaves


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This is the sort of crap that non-believers in the mainstream religion have to put up with.  Religionists do this, I believe, because they feel threatened by the fact that others don’t believe what they do.

Poor cat.  LOL.  You just know he’s going to poop in someone’s shoes for this humiliation.

But here’s the deal, you are either born into a religion or sucked into it, you end up investing your life and resources into supporting it, literally putting your all into it, and then heaven forbid you suddenly realize you’ve been duped and there’s egg on your face.

I’m not saying that there’s nothing true about religion because I’m sure there’s a lot that’s a lot of truth in it.  But never forget for a second the old adage that the best lies incorporate a great deal of truth.

People with no religion and no experience with it can be sucked in due to the simple fact that a particular set of beliefs appeal to them. The proselytizers then get hold of them and promise them enlightenment and fellowship if only they become formally a part of that religion.  Lonely single people are especially susceptible because of social events hosted by the group and the sheer friendliness of everyone.

Once the fish is hooked, the real indoctrination begins.  Suddenly there are rules to this belief system.  Lots and lots of rules.  There are also frequent requests for tithes or donations.

Some religions aren’t too obnoxious.  They just tell you what you can and can’t think or say and who you can or cannot associate with or marry.  They’re content just to rule your minds and pick your pockets, but they won’t mess with you too much.

Others won’t stop there.  Others will give you detailed rules for practically everything you say and think and do.

Islam, for example, tells you what you can and can’t eat, what to wear, how to go to the bathroom, how, who, and what to kill (there’s a LOT of killing in Islam), how to pray, how to fast, how to socialize, how to war, how to maim, how to torture, and what you are allowed to think and say about everything.  It has rules that could take years to learn in entirety because even if the Koran and hadith don’t have a rule for that, the clerics got it covered with their ignorant but highly esteemed religious opinions that can be added to the Sharia at any time without warning.

But it still has its ways of attracting converts:

It has an especially strong appeal to psychopathic murderers, sadists, masochists, slavers, pedophiles, OCDs, bandits, pirates, misogynists, supremacists, and rapists.  In short, the dregs of humanity that aren’t quite human because they are so profoundly inhumane.  This is because Islam allows these crimes against humanity so long as they are against non-Muslims and whatever this questionable community considers deems imperfect Muslims, heretics, and apostates.

Violent and jealous petty men and men with sexual obsessions are allowed full control of all the woman in their lives, which can be a lot: as many as four wives, daughters, mother, and unlimited sex slaves captured in war or by deceit or from the many slave markets that Islam allows for and encourages.  They are Islamically permitted to beat or kill any of these females at even the thought of their disobedience.  They’re allowed to marry children if they swing that way and to rape animals too if they feel like it.  And they can make their women wear bags over their heads and bodies and go out with an approved escort only.

That last is mostly because Muslim men, being of the predilections they are, are unsafe for any woman or child or animal to be around and likely to attack like rabid dogs any that strike their fancy the moment they are unguarded, and often even if they are guarded.

Liberal-minded innocents are also susceptible to Islam due mostly to to its deceit.

They will, for instance, tell Christians and Jews that they worship the same god, just by a different name.  They believe it too, but a converted Christian or Jews will, once they have begun to study on their own, soon realize that Allah couldn’t possibly be the same god because Allah, in point of fact, despises Christians and Jews and wants them all either subjugated to Islam paying tribute, degraded, enslaved, or killed.

They also like to tell Christians that they too revere Jesus (Yeshua) so Islam is just “Christianity corrected/purified.”  This is patently false.  Yeshua is mentioned with some reverence in the Koran but more as an image booster called a “prophet” not a “son of god” and nowhere in the Koran are included his teachings on compassion, so what’s the point?

But dupe into it or not, Islam puts a death sentence on those who want to leave it.

Another religion with highly controlling tendencies is Scientology.  There are public Scientologists who support it financially and verbally, but otherwise lead fairly normal lives.  And then there’s the inner core, the Sea Org, which controls nearly everything its members do from childhood on up.  Having children is forbidden to them, but those that already had children were forced to leave them to be raised in slave labor camps called “Ranches,” where they do hard manual labor and live in circumstances similar to military basic training, but with fewer liberties if you can imagine that.

As adults, they are still treated like slaves.  They don’t do nearly as hard of work, but they still live in barracks, are overworked, subjected to degrading or arduous punishments for even the smallest step out of line, are paid far less than minimum wage, are not permitted normal relationships, and not allowed to go anywhere or do anything without special leave to do so.  They also face regular interrogations to worm confessions out of them and are punished for “crimes” like questioning anything about Scientology, flirting, back-flashing (back-talking), not working hard enough, or associating with or even looking at anything critical of Scientology or its founder, L.Ron Hubbard.  Worst of all, they are regularly separated from family members for years at a time.

Public Scientologist rarely see that.  Certainly the celebrities, lured in for their PR and monetary value, don’t see it either.  They are giving special treatment from all the Sea Org slaves and never suspect a thing.  But even they forbidden to associate with family or friends who say or write anything about Scientology.  Like Islam, it can’t hold up to criticism.

The attactor for Scientology is a truth at its core: the idea of freeing yourself from past hangups, trauma, or guilt, in order to progress as a soul.  But then they just had to ruin it by wrapping it in religion and tying it with a bow of slavery both mental and physical.

The thing is, there are good, appealing, ideas in religion.  But you can have those without the religion.  You do NOT need to be controlled in order to live a good life.  And you cannot really expand your mind and progress if you are tied to Group Think as opposed to thinking freely on your own.  You don’t need to be a slave to religion.  It’s better to simply be yourself… unless, of course, you believe you’re such a bad person that you really needed to be chained and lashed.  Just saying….

FREE YOURSELVES ALREADY!!!!

Posted in Family, Kids, Relationships, religion, Uncategorized, Women's Issues | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Religion and Commonality Tactics


I’m presently reading a memoir written by an ex-Scientologist. I forget the name of the book. It’s on my Kindle and the title doesn’t show up on the top of the page like you might expect. Some books it does, this one it doesn’t.

Anyway, the first thing to strike me about the story is that when the author describes some of the basic premises of Scientology – reincarnation, multi-dimensional existence, and the need to free oneself from past traumas in order to progress – I found myself nodding in agreement. I came to many of the same conclusions L. Ron Hubbard obvious had.

Now don’t let this get you all excited if you’re a scientologist or worried for me if you’re not. Just because I believe of some of the tennets of a religion – any religion, doesn’t mean I’m made for that religion and am going to run right out and join it. That is so not happening.

I investigated Scientology back in the 1980s as a project for a theology class I was taking. I pretended to be a prospective just so I could get an interior view of some of its recruiting methods.

The guy I met with in the Seattle office (I think you’d call him an “auditor”) was dressed like a Catholic priest and spoke to me, ironically, of Scientology being a self-help tool and life-style as opposed to being a religion.

When I couldn’t help laughing and asked why he was wearing a priest collar then, he explained that it was just a fashion choice of his. Then he explained the process of auditing.

I don’t remember the details of this. It reminded me of regressive hynosis to identify the chains in one’s past and eliminate this. I did not undergo this process. Instead, I allowed him to lead me into a little conference room that had been made over into a theater full of highschool style desk-chairs with a big screen at the front of the room. There, I was the only viewer to a film about the auditing process, how it helped people with everything from health to mental issues. There was electric shock treatment involved just like in the movie “Cats Eye.”

That was all I needed to see. I left in disgust before the film was even over. Whatever I agreed with them about mattered a whole lot less to me than how they tried to control people thereby captured. I nonetheless received invitations from the Church of Scientology for the next 15 years.

The first method evangelists of any religion to capture converts is presenting bits of their ideology that the prospective convert can agree with. They’ll say (or insinuate) “See, you believe what we do. You already belong to us. All you need to do is formalize it and then we’ll help you go further in it.”

Okay, they almost never use those exact words but they do play on that exact idea and deliberately leave out the objectionable bits until after they are certain they have you.

A great many Islamic evangelists, for example, will say to open-minded Christians, that they worship the same god (a lie they believe btw) and that they also follow Christ/Yeshua (also a lie: the believe Yeshua was a prophet, not a son-of-God, a source of redemption, or even a teacher). If they succeed in getting the Christian to convert to Islam, thinking it a purer version of Christianity, he/she will soon find there is no such thing as the Golden Rule or actual mercy. Allah is frequently called “Merciful” but his laws, the Sharia, demonstrate no mercy whatsoever. Oh, and for a Muslim to call Jesus the son-of-god is a sacrilege punishable by death.

Another example of selling common beliefs in evangelism is when Christian Evangelists to Hindus try to convince them that their god Krishna is none other than Christ prior to preaching back in Israel. There is both historic and chrono data to suggest this may actually be true but, regardless, Hindus mostly just find it insulting and wish the Christians would stop saying that. Yet some must bite because the Evangelists still keep trying it.

Honestly, I think it could usher in world peace if we looked more at what we have in common as human beings than where we are very different. But religion just never seems to let it go that way. No. Commonalities for them are just what attracts converts and then they insert rules – lots and LOTS of rules – by which to control their won adherents. 

In short, they’re clubs.  You follow the rules or you get the hell out.  In some of them, like the Mafia and Islam, that means you have to die.

Islam has more rules than any of them. It governs every aspect of an aherent’s life in detail. But all religions have rules. They tell you what to think and feel and do and will tear you down as a person whenever you show more indendence than that.

Listen. It’s okay to think for yourself and be your own authority. What’s more, we should be able to respect that in one another and be friends regardless. No one needs to control us or take away our right to be our own persons.

One of my beliefs, formed on my own independent of religion, is that we are all creative expressions of our Creator, just trying out different modes of experience.  Good or Evil probably means nothing to the Creator.  But it means something to us who have to live with one another in the physical realm.

So yeah…  If another creative expression of the Creator tries to supercede or undermine others, that’s just them asking for a knock-down in my opinion. But that’s just me.  I won’t let you control me.  I’m always going to be my own person. 

How about you?

 

Posted in Middle East, Relationships, religion, Sims, Spiritual | 7 Comments

Building Split levels in Sims 3


I have Sims 4 and there are some pretty neat aspects to it, but I still don’t have as much creative liberties in it as in Sims 3.  So yeah, I’m back to playing Sims 3 and learning new tricks for it even now: Split levels for instance!

Here’s a quick how to:

1.  Draw your floor plan using the Wall tool.  Wherever you want to make a split level – a stair landing for example, draw that in just as you would a room.  move one square out from that and outline that level.  This last is just to make your life easier if you’re making a stair landing.  You do not need to do this if what’s next to it is just going to be a room a level down.

2.  Turn the dang auto-roof off, go up a level, delete the roof, and build another story.  This time, follow the room lines below but not the split level lines.  Floor the whole second level.  Because there are no walls here to designation the split level zones, you might want to do those in other colors just so you can easily see where they’re at.

3.  Go up a level.  Draw the outline of the building only.  No need to floor it.  Just leave it open.

4.  Go up a level.  Just floor it.  No walls or anything else.  This will be the second level of your structure IF you choose to have one or it will be your roof level if not.

5.  Go back down to the 2nd level, hit “Ctrl+Shift+C” and type in “ConstrainFloorElevation False” and “Enter” in the gray bar that appears on the top of the page.

6.  Choose where your topmost split level will be and drop a staircase down either in the center of it or at the edge where you want a stairway anyway.  This is a bit tricky sometimes.  You may have trouble getting the stairway to land exactly where you want it.  It may fight you.  But all you really need from it at this time is for it to make a dent in the floor.  Once it makes that dent, if the stair is not exactly where you want it, just delete it. Then use the terrain leveling tool to make the whole floor level with the dent.

7.  If this is a landing, delete the floor surround this split level 1 square all around except where it meets the wall of the house or an interior room that will not be directly connected to this level.

8.  Now drop another stair where your next split level with be.  Unless the stair has landed exactly where you want it, just delete it and level the floor from that level across the structure, leaving only your top most level alone and separated by the 1-square divide.

9.  Make your 1 square divide around this level too.

10.  Delete the floor except where your split levels are on this first story.

11.  Floor the ground in this space.  Make sure it’s level but resist the urge to level the lot.  It will affect all the other layers you just made so, trust me, you don’t want to do that.  As is, you will have to watch carefully to make sure your other layers are not altered and relevel them on occassion that they are affected.

12.  Choose where your windows and doors are going to be on this first story.  Delete a square of the lowest level wall for each square of width the window, door, or arch will be.  The wall levels up will be pushed up above it.  Put in the space for each opening this way and if you have several in a row along one wall in a room, go ahead and raise the whole space as one.  Just be sure you stop at least 1 sqaure away from walls that will run perpedicular to this.  You may experience grief if you do not.

13.  Go to the top of the structure.  There will hills and mountain peaks there for every place where you raised a wall for opening.  Just use the terrain tool to level them back out.

14.  Now drop a stair on that top level.  Delete the stair and level it out again from the dent.  Repeat.

15.  Type “Cntrl+Shift+C” and type in “ConstrainFloorElevation True” and Enter, followed by Esc.

16.  Now you can put in your doors, windows, fire places, and stairs where you want them. 

17.  For wall covering where there is a transition between levels, the only way you can hide the way the wall slants between levels is to use solid colors, stucco, or vertical geometric patterns.

Happy Simming!

Posted in Architecture, Design, Sims | 1 Comment

Dark


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Two old poems of mine stuck on my mind today for some reason….

Dark Angel

He didn’t believe; he couldn’t… The wisdom of his honest heart and mind just couldn’t grasp the cruelty and nonsense of such an empty faith.

But when they understood his disbelief and took him to lock away in darkness, I didn’t even know, nor would have comprehended what they meant to do. For how could they force him to embrace a faith he couldn’t believe?

When they dragged him out into the brilliance of the day, blinking at the crowd that had gathered in the square, I watched it safe and distant in my ether space, wondering what they could do… and why it was important.

I didn’t understand; I couldn’t… when they grasped and forced him down onto his hands and knees… nor the meaning of the sharpened pike they thrust into his rear.

What was this? Did they think this public humiliation would force him to submit as the beating of a slave? Did they think to break him thus? To make him say he believed what he didn’t?

But the apostate only groaned a keening submersion of pain… not submission… and they raised him on his pike as a scarecrow in a field and left him on display.

Still the crowd watched, as with bated breath, and I did not perceive what they were watching until the sharpened pike I’d forgotten now burst through the poor man’s back.

His face a mask of pain and tears, his silently mouthed prayers are surely to some god other than the one that would wish this on him… and here I am, safe on the other side of the world, helpless to intervene.

The crowd cheered then, all of them men, shouting “Allah-ho-Akbars” to their cruelly bloodthirsty vengeful god. That was when I noticed them with loathing that in this they could participate and in any way rejoice. What pity know they, or empathy? Their humanity has died in them.

Perhaps it would be better not to know….

The women did not participate in this, though some of them would have so deep is their slavish devotion to what their men insist is right… but many I think would have abhorred this unnatural display of cruelty, yet seldom have a voice with which to object.

The women here are only shadows. If they move without at all, it is beneath the blackness of a living burial shroud, faces veiled, no perfume, and no ornaments that jingle.

Sickened with horror, I can do nothing but turn away, but in my mind’s eye I see one of those shadow women standing. She hides beneath her shroud and veils a mask to protect her and two glass vials: one of crystal blue and one colorless as water, meant for the cleansing of foul stains.

She drops her vials and the cruel crowd drops around her while the man on the pike finds sanctuary from his pain. Then, invisibly, the dark angel slips away….

Dark

Blackness mounting in the sky,

Dark mushroom of clouds,

Blotting out the sun.

Ashes like snowflakes

Blanket the cities and countryside.

Red cinders dance on breezes

Like fireflies and dying dreams.

I don’t know what I’m seeing

but the silence in me screams….

Ice will come here

In the aftermath,

The tween time meld

Of Ice and Fire,

Lore of which the old gods

Gained infamy and power.

Don’t be afraid.

For every door closed,

Every era silenced,

Another opens wide.

OpenDoor

Posted in death, Middle East, Poetry, religion, social pychology, Terrorism, Thoughts and Dreams, Women's Issues, Writing | Leave a comment