Earliest Memories

My earliest memory is that of my fifth birthday party. I was skinny back then, energetic and open minded. The world was my oyster, and the people I knew weren't trying to use my person as a tool to accomplish their own ends, nor I using theirs for my own. I wore thick, square, plastic rimmed nerd glasses. I was curious about all aspect of the world, and had the capacity to devour and learn anything and everything my family's limited resources could throw my way. It was a good time, a simpler time. But all of that pales in comparison to the reason I have kept this most cherished of memories. I would have a special surprise that day. Perhaps the greatest in the history of all male five year celebrations of birth.

You see, it was a bright autumn evening, early enough that the sun hadn't yet set, but cool enough for a long sleeved flannel (is there any other kind?). My birthday is in October, quite near hallows eve, so the decorations (and cake frosting) were resplendent in orange and black. I was standing on a crate ready to blow out the candles and make another optimistic childhood wish, when the greatest moment of my life (up to that point) occurred. BATMAN walked in! Frigging' BATMAN! Now, in case you did not know this, BATMAN is my favorite superhero evar. He was giant! Six foot tall, muscular, and he had a beer gut. Of course, in my excitement I failed to notice that last detail (which might just ave tipped me off to the cruel ruse that was afoot). But come on, how many times a day does BATMAN (or anyone vaguely dressed like BATMAN, for that matter) just up and walk into your house?

Now if you think this was exciting, that has nothing on his next actions. He proceeded to take me to the roof of my own house where he had set up an extensive zip line system, allowing myself and my three other guests under the weight limit of sixty pounds to rappel down to the ground in what can only be described as the most dangerously exciting moments of my entire life. Now I was BATMAN for all the world knew. And for three hours, my life was perfect.

But lo, good reader, it was not to last. The tale I tell today shall not be one of happiness, but a tragedy rife with heartbreak , and stories of innocence lost. For at the end of the party, BATMAN lifted his all concealing mask and revealed himself to be not Bruce Wayne (President and CEO of Wayne Industries) , but an old family friend by the name of Roberto (we called him "tio", a Latin based honorific roughly translatable to uncle). Needless to say, I was utterly crushed for the nextfive minutes. Then I came to my senses , and found a deep apreciativeness for what he had done for me. Also, I got to keep the BATMAN suit (which is now torn and too small for me). The lessson here is of course that, "Its not the friends you have that count, It the memories you make with them."

-sholan out
(rappelling from a skyscraper)

Personal Privacy: Importance

Privacy is very important to me. In fact, it is so important that I do not feel comfortable posting this blog lest I expose you to the workings of my inner sanctum of seanliness. Just kidding. I have no problems exposing you to my secret machinations. I'll just have to kill you afterwards.


On a related note, I have an actual example to support my hypothesis on the importance of privacy (that it is, in fact, important) You see, I was going over my previous blog entries a little while ago, and I found out that I am, in fact, deceased (read my previous blog entries and you will find the episode in which I died). This happened due to a lack of privacy in my attempts to not so secretly undermine our glorious raptor lords. Yes, I was eaten by a velociraptor. So remember kids, privacy can save your life. And no, I will not describe in detail what it is like being dead. I value my privacy too much.

Of course, being not alive makes getting that crucial privacy so much easier. My body is just a rotting scrap of its former self buried deep beneath the ground, and people can't actually see my radiant new form as the tangible display of raw ethereal might it truly is. That is to say, for all intents and purposes, I am invisible. a fact that is no doubt distressing to the young man whose computer I am using to type this blog. Don't worry Douglass, I won't be here long.

Well, back when I was alive, my strategies for hoarding my privacy were the same as those I used for avoiding conflicts (detailed in the same blog entry in which I was eaten). I was rather reclusive and meek. At home anyway. I didn't call attention to myself, and as a result, my life was so surprisingly private and well guarded that the Raptor overlords let me entertain the notion that I could bring about some form of successful rebellion against them by toiling in secrecy. Of course, I was a fool for thinking so, for the Raptors see all.

So at the last, I must illustrate to you all the folly of expecting privacy. In the end the only way to be shielded from the omniscient eyes of our Raptor overlords is to be semi-existent, like myself. And even now I am not so sure that they aren't monitoring my every action.

Praise the Raptor overlords, and Praise to Vog.

A matter of life and death, part 2

If I could design a school curriculum, it would center on techniques to integrate humanity into our future role as the serving caste of our magnificent raptor overlords. There would be classes on the history of raptoria, raptorian grammar, and classes on raptoirian technology, that the most intelligent amongst us might be able to understand given adequate time and instruction (it is, after all, the most advanced technology in the known universe.)
There are many ways to ensure that all material taught is learned properly. The techniques that are to be most commonly employed by our supreme raptor overlords will be shock therapy and practical application. This of course means that if you fail to grasp the basics of living as a member of the serving caste in Raptorian society after the two mandatory sessions of shock therapy scheduled for all pending raptorian citizens, you will be fed to the ravenous young of the raptor overlords. If you fail to learn Raptor after two mandatory sessions of shock therapy, you will be fed to the young of our raptor overlords. And if you fail your technology class, you will be barred from enrolment in their computer technician program. Then you shall be fed to the young of our raptor overlords.
And scheduling is the beauty of it. After your first two lessons, there is no more need for education, as one is either a productive and valued member of the raptorian serving caste, pursuing education in one of a number of non-serving caste careers, or has been rendered into sustenance for the young of our glorious raptor overlords. As such, the lessons themselves shall proceed as follows: All applicants pending Raptorian citizenship will receive a brain implant which provides all the requisite knowledge necessary to live as a productive member of the raptorian serving caste. Those who are intelligent enough to recall the majority of the information provided after the two mandatory shock therapy sessions, will be allowed to become a member of the raptorian serving caste. Those students who exhibit significant intelligence may be allowed to receive additional education in a non-service field at the discretion of or magnanimous raptor overlords.
Homework is, for obvious reasons, not a necessity in the regular raptorian classes. Those intelligent enough to seek alternative education after the basic courses shall recieve a significant amount of homework. These assignments are usually meted out by the course instructor and are designed to serve as a final test as well as homework average. Those unable to complete their assignments and /or unable to meet course requirments will be lobotomized and made into slave-servitors.
So work well and quickly. Do what is commanded of you, and do your best to further the interests of our raptor overlords, and everything will be just fine. Raptoria is the happiest and most advanced utopia in the known universe, untouched by disease, strife, poverty, and death. It is a shining beacon of enlightenment amidst the darkness of the void
All hail our Raptor overlords, and the great society of Raptoria! Praise be to Vog!
(eeek-hruuk awrkaer minckt tureek erwaaak!)