In the night the heavens cry,
perpetually shedding tears
- gleaming, sparkling -
wanting to be seen;
desire of most frail whimpers never heard.
Galaxies reach out to the observer,
never touching, but always felt in presence.
So far away they are, so lonely they seem.
Alas, they crowd the sky
by the millions and fantastic thousands,
for only their loneliness to grow simultaneously greater -
a dark horizon of sadness and despair raying miles and miles away.
Infinitely aware of a man so down below, they always speak out,
though I forget which said what
in the scarcity of my own presence in the universe,
for I am the center of my own realm, yet another tear among lost stars,
waiting to be heard and cured,
too distant to recall another's blue moon dreams.
Saturday, 10 December 2011
Monday, 5 December 2011
Climbing The Scoville Scale: My Journey In A Life Of Fire
My life as a chilihead has had its ups and downs, burning moments as well as those cold, damp recesses we usually avoid; it can be said that I have gone through various periods, stages, which all influenced one another in some way, however subtle or imposing. For in the years of experience, I have learned lessons of hurt, good, and great, and walked amongst the sublimity of chili peppers - a path where today no retreat is required.
As a child I was cared for by Guyanese babysitters, thus introduced to West Indian cuisine. Typical of them was to add varying degrees of heat to their food, usually with your regular Indian green chilis (Pusa Jwala) or Scotch Bonnets. Other than that, I did not regularly consume spicy food unless willing to challenge myself. Sometimes I would pick up a bottle of generic not-so-hot hot sauce at the supermarket; usually this would go to waste, as I very rarely finished the bottle.
Sometime between 7th and 8th grade I had a minor spike of interest in heat, and began to consume Jalapenos regularly. Once able to finish a Jalapeno without much of a struggle, I took notice of Habanero peppers in a nearby supermarket. Tempted by their reputation (back then I heard they were the hottest in the world), I purchased a pack and took em home. After washing one, I took a bite and experienced something I did not expect. Boy, those Jalapenos mislead me! My lips burned, my tongue burned, even my ears burned! My face was going numb and my hair became a dribbling mop. I began to freak out, and in all futility drank water, only to go further ballistic afterwards. I panicked and held my mouth under the tap for about 10 minutes, and eventually - finally - the pain began to subside to tolerable levels.
What the hell? My ears were burning...? This was not normal, I had thought. Despite the hard lesson, I remained stubborn, and the following morning added a diced whole Habanero to my scrambled eggs. It took me about 30 minutes to finish the meal - the heat again was too much - and I decided perhaps Habaneros weren't quite for me. Regrettably, I abandoned the pack, and the remaining pods succumbed to mold.
About three years ago my interest in hot food was revived, and with my girlfriend began to eat all sorts of spicy food. We would explore the deepest trenches of the sauce aisles to find the perfect extra hot jerk sauce. We would order Vindaloos at Indian joints and learn to make something hotter at home. Eventually we decided it was time to step it up and add the real deal to our home-cooked delights - the C.Chinense peppers. We would purchase Habaneros and Scotch Bonnets at the local No Frills, and find creative ways to consume them. Curry, ceviche, we tried everything we could think of that was affordable to make. Eating one whole, however, was still too much for either of us, and I always maintained a certain level of moderation with Chinense pods to avoid unforgiving pain.
In 2009 I had my first chili grow. Browsing the home gardening sections of supermarkets and home improvement stores, I happily brought home several plants: a Caribbean Red Habanero, an Orange Habanero, four "Red Hot Thai" plants, and a single Jalapeno. The Jalapeno never did produce any flowers, and so no fruit; the Caribbean Red Habanero did not flower either, and the Orange Habanero was annihilated by a troop of snails. Yet in all good hope, I managed to enjoy a massive harvest of Thai peppers. In fact, they were so plentiful that I did not know what to do with all of them. I pickled them, oven-dried them, froze them, and found every reason and way to add them to whatever I was going to eat. I had too many and had to get rid of them without being wasteful. Growing Thai peppers seemed much like shedding dog hair - excessive pods everywhere! Even though I was greatly overwhelmed by the harvest, I had no regrets and intended to grow again the following summer. 2009 was also my first experience with VERY hot sauce, as I had picked up a bottle of Black Mamba sauce at Taste The 4th Sense. Extremely hot it was, so I only ever used it by the drop, but the smokey taste had me finishing the bottle within two months.
Back to the growing: 2010 was a prolific year, with four Orange Habaneros producing a harvest large enough to supply a small fruit market. I ended up freezing many of them and using them later for dishes that required serious heat, although I did gain decent tolerance from the grow. But it was not until 2011 that I became totally obsessed. Beginning with this summer, I enjoyed a bountiful harvest of unknown red C.Chinense from 2 plants I had germinated back in the later half of 2010. I also harvested a substantial amount of Hot Portugal pods, and my father enjoyed these quite a lot. I began to add hot peppers to everything I consumed; breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. Soon enough my tolerance became quite high, and by fall I was able to eat pods of Habanero-level heat whole, no fidgeting. I had become a true chilihead, and while still evolving, I can consider myself matured.
Today, I am raising various seedings and taking good care of my two adult mystery Chinenses. I have become an aficionado for heat and a connoisseur of spicy, and intend to collect numerous seeds and grow them. I also have a large (or should I say HUGE) supply of dried Ghost Chilis for emergencies, or when a special recipe calls out. At this point, my family thinks I'm crazy, too far gone, but I only blink and smile, eat a Habanero and ask them if they want one. When they turn heads, I know I've proven a point and made a personal statement: chiles have become a part of my life, an element that without presence others know something is absent or wrong, hence a part of me and my identity for good and ever so.
Love heat, love life!
As a child I was cared for by Guyanese babysitters, thus introduced to West Indian cuisine. Typical of them was to add varying degrees of heat to their food, usually with your regular Indian green chilis (Pusa Jwala) or Scotch Bonnets. Other than that, I did not regularly consume spicy food unless willing to challenge myself. Sometimes I would pick up a bottle of generic not-so-hot hot sauce at the supermarket; usually this would go to waste, as I very rarely finished the bottle.
Sometime between 7th and 8th grade I had a minor spike of interest in heat, and began to consume Jalapenos regularly. Once able to finish a Jalapeno without much of a struggle, I took notice of Habanero peppers in a nearby supermarket. Tempted by their reputation (back then I heard they were the hottest in the world), I purchased a pack and took em home. After washing one, I took a bite and experienced something I did not expect. Boy, those Jalapenos mislead me! My lips burned, my tongue burned, even my ears burned! My face was going numb and my hair became a dribbling mop. I began to freak out, and in all futility drank water, only to go further ballistic afterwards. I panicked and held my mouth under the tap for about 10 minutes, and eventually - finally - the pain began to subside to tolerable levels.
What the hell? My ears were burning...? This was not normal, I had thought. Despite the hard lesson, I remained stubborn, and the following morning added a diced whole Habanero to my scrambled eggs. It took me about 30 minutes to finish the meal - the heat again was too much - and I decided perhaps Habaneros weren't quite for me. Regrettably, I abandoned the pack, and the remaining pods succumbed to mold.
About three years ago my interest in hot food was revived, and with my girlfriend began to eat all sorts of spicy food. We would explore the deepest trenches of the sauce aisles to find the perfect extra hot jerk sauce. We would order Vindaloos at Indian joints and learn to make something hotter at home. Eventually we decided it was time to step it up and add the real deal to our home-cooked delights - the C.Chinense peppers. We would purchase Habaneros and Scotch Bonnets at the local No Frills, and find creative ways to consume them. Curry, ceviche, we tried everything we could think of that was affordable to make. Eating one whole, however, was still too much for either of us, and I always maintained a certain level of moderation with Chinense pods to avoid unforgiving pain.
In 2009 I had my first chili grow. Browsing the home gardening sections of supermarkets and home improvement stores, I happily brought home several plants: a Caribbean Red Habanero, an Orange Habanero, four "Red Hot Thai" plants, and a single Jalapeno. The Jalapeno never did produce any flowers, and so no fruit; the Caribbean Red Habanero did not flower either, and the Orange Habanero was annihilated by a troop of snails. Yet in all good hope, I managed to enjoy a massive harvest of Thai peppers. In fact, they were so plentiful that I did not know what to do with all of them. I pickled them, oven-dried them, froze them, and found every reason and way to add them to whatever I was going to eat. I had too many and had to get rid of them without being wasteful. Growing Thai peppers seemed much like shedding dog hair - excessive pods everywhere! Even though I was greatly overwhelmed by the harvest, I had no regrets and intended to grow again the following summer. 2009 was also my first experience with VERY hot sauce, as I had picked up a bottle of Black Mamba sauce at Taste The 4th Sense. Extremely hot it was, so I only ever used it by the drop, but the smokey taste had me finishing the bottle within two months.
Back to the growing: 2010 was a prolific year, with four Orange Habaneros producing a harvest large enough to supply a small fruit market. I ended up freezing many of them and using them later for dishes that required serious heat, although I did gain decent tolerance from the grow. But it was not until 2011 that I became totally obsessed. Beginning with this summer, I enjoyed a bountiful harvest of unknown red C.Chinense from 2 plants I had germinated back in the later half of 2010. I also harvested a substantial amount of Hot Portugal pods, and my father enjoyed these quite a lot. I began to add hot peppers to everything I consumed; breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. Soon enough my tolerance became quite high, and by fall I was able to eat pods of Habanero-level heat whole, no fidgeting. I had become a true chilihead, and while still evolving, I can consider myself matured.
Today, I am raising various seedings and taking good care of my two adult mystery Chinenses. I have become an aficionado for heat and a connoisseur of spicy, and intend to collect numerous seeds and grow them. I also have a large (or should I say HUGE) supply of dried Ghost Chilis for emergencies, or when a special recipe calls out. At this point, my family thinks I'm crazy, too far gone, but I only blink and smile, eat a Habanero and ask them if they want one. When they turn heads, I know I've proven a point and made a personal statement: chiles have become a part of my life, an element that without presence others know something is absent or wrong, hence a part of me and my identity for good and ever so.
Love heat, love life!
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Untitled War Poem
Shrieks of red and blackened stares, the enemy waltzes with his horse.
His mother no longer there - her caresses sealed off forever -
for he has heard the lullaby of my spear.
Rest in peace.
His mother no longer there - her caresses sealed off forever -
for he has heard the lullaby of my spear.
Rest in peace.
The Most Painfully Hot Restuarants In The Greater Toronto Area (GTA)
Torontonians like heat. This is obvious with the heavy influence of Caribbean and Indian cuisine on local tastes: the curries at bars, the Scotch Bonnets sold at No Frills, but nothing will prepare you for the sadistic levels of heat these places can offer. Make sure to rent a glacier or two, because eating from the following restaurants will make you wish you were in Alaska!
PLACE: Wild Wing
LOCATION: all over the city
WHAT TO GET: Boss Sauce
COMMENTS: Their wings are delicious, and heat levels go from heatless, followed by one flame, all the way to six flames. But if you are feeling a little daring, you can request a hidden item which they only keep around for those stupid enough to want it. Boss Sauce is their absolute hottest, and it goes beyond the rest. As one individual put it, it's like eating level six wings with a whole pepper on top!
PLACE: All Star Wings & Ribs
LOCATION: all over the city
WHAT TO GET: Armageddon Sauce
COMMENTS: Yet another delicious wing place, this one has NINE heat levels, ranging all from heatless all the way to something that sounds a little too threatening - Extinction Level Event (E.L.E.). They claim that E.L.E. is in the millions of Scoville units, and if it's true, they could be using anything from Ghost Chiles to Capsaicin Extract in their sauce. Not surprisingly, their only E.L.E. sauce is Armageddon, and they intend to hurt you with it. If you ever DO plan to order that flavour, please keep in mind that you have to SIGN A WAIVER first. Yes, it's so hot that they don't want to be held responsible for whatever might happen to you. Beware!
PLACE: Duff's Famous Wings
LOCATION: two in Toronto, one in Vaughan, and three in New York state in case you're travelling
WHAT TO GET: Armageddon Sauce
COMMENTS: More wings?! Relax, we all love wings, and you won't be able to get enough of Duff's! This joint is rated as one of Toronto's top wing places (not that the other mentioned wing spots aren't any good), and they offer a simple yet reliably delicious selection of flavours you can't go wrong with. In any event, anyone seeking a thrill in hot wings willl find his fix here, as they boast SEVEN heat levels for their Buffalo sauce, and Armageddon (this name is awfully too common) is at the top! Can you beat the heat, or cry it away like a little girl? Find out for yourself at Duff's!
PLACE: Nando's Flame Grilled Chicken
LOCATION: 939 Eglinton Avenue East, Toronto; also 815 Britannia Road, Mississauga
WHAT TO GET: Extra-Hot level dishes
COMMENTS: Not many people in town are familiar with Afro-Portugese cuisine, so if not for eating hot food, you should check this place out for the novelty and obscurity of the dishes they offer there. Regarding what is available in terms of spicy, you can choose from five different heat levels, from extra-mild to extra-hot. They use Peri-Peri peppers to fire up their dishes and sauces, so when they say hot, they most definitely mean it. Peri-Peri, also known as African Bird's Eye, is a pepper that can reach heat levels of up to 200,000 scoville heat units, so do not underestimate what these little firecrackers are capable of! Enjoy unique, exotic flavours and explosive heat at Nando's!
PLACE: Salad King
LOCATION: 340 Yonge Street
WHAT TO GET: 20 chilis
COMMENTS: An amazing Thai restaurant in downtown Toronto, this Asian delight caters to both Thai fanatics and those who love their Thai food HOT. Naturally, Thai cuisine is often pretty spicy, with Thailand being one of the countries that consume some of the largest quantities of hot pepper in the world, but Salad King just pushes this to an extreme! Their heat scale explains this quite well. Mild is for babies. Medium is just hitting puberty. And then it goes 1 chili, 3, 5, 10, 15.... 20?! Are they insane?! It seems like it, but this is only for the better of things. After all, it never hurts to raise the limit..
PLACE: The Real Jerk
LOCATION: 709 Queen Street East
WHAT TO GET: Extra-Hot Sauce
COMMENTS: This place is legit for Jerk Chicken and Jamaican cuisine. In fact, it is one of the very best the city has to offer. Yet for those who feel they must take their fondness of Rasta chow one step further by adding serious heat for the sake of doing things the real Jamaican way, one can ask for the EXTRA-HOT sauce they keep hidden in the kitchen, away from the curious and unprepared. Clearly Jerk Chicken was never meant for the weak and vulnerable, so if you're man enough, give your cohones a true test of Caribbean terror!
http://www.therealjerk.com
PLACE: Gandhi Cuisine
LOCATION: 554 Queen Street West
WHAT TO GET: Just ask to make their dishes "Indian hot"
COMMENTS: This tiny restaurant serves some of the best East Indian roti you can find in the GTA, a novel change from the many Caribbean roti bars you find scattered around town. Expect the flavours to be true to traditional East Indian cuisine, and same with the level of "ow, it hurts!" They distinguish well between "average Joe spicy" and "Indian Spicy," and if you aren't a hardened Indian, then prepare to get your butt kicked! Excellent heat without compromising flavour - Indian people always do it right!
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
The Unfound
I awake, like every day, with the frozen kiss of the morning. Setting out on the same journey like many times before, I take heavy steps through a murky ocean, eyes burning and directionally blinded. Seeking a treasure that is only fabled to exist in my mind, I travel more, but come home empty handed, with no gold in my heart - there is only rust on my silver skin.
^Something that randomly came up in the corner of my mind during class today.
^Something that randomly came up in the corner of my mind during class today.
Friday, 14 October 2011
The Temptations of Terror Rock, a short story by Hugo Contreras (me)
A long time ago, there was a lonely island with dark blue grass and many small villages, as well as a single town. In the center of the island was a mountain that was so high it wore a crown made of clouds. Several of the villages had recently ended a war with the town and its allies, and many had died gruesome deaths or fled into the forest and gone missing. Yet no one would dare climb the mountain, not for refuse or any other reason. According to folklore, there was a great treasure sitting atop the mountain, but one would first have to make it up there, then attempt to take it from a terrifying beast believed to guard it. There have been isolated cases of individuals trekking their way up the mountain, but none had ever returned, although body parts were sometimes recovered at the bottom. This generated a lot of fear and superstition in the communities below, and many even came to believe that the monster would one day descend to steal the riches away from the villagers and townspeople. Because of this, the mountain was known as Terror Rock.
One day, two rival stepbrothers met in the town forum. The older sibling, Hab, was strong and fierce - a warrior with no fear and enormous battle experience. He was tall, muscular and handsome, with menacing eyes that would send a bear back into its cave. He also had many beautiful wives. All this earned him the respect of many, apart from the mild annoyance most experienced due his ever-growing ego. The younger one, Bon, was short, pudgy, and unusually wrinkled. His left leg was skinny and deformed, and it caused him to walk with an awkward limp. He was humble and reserved, yet doubted and ignored by many. Despite this, his intelligence and patient demeanour did give him some degree of value in the community, mostly as a casual advisor to the town elders.
The forum was already cluttered with people, but the two stepbrothers stood in the middle, with the elders sitting around them. There was a bit of an argument going on, and there was not one person who did not display a sign of frustration or worry, with the exception of Bon. An elder stood up and spoke in his raspy voice, and everyone crowded around to hear.
"Our enemies have pillaged our town and allies, and we are running out of goods to trade. We barely even have enough gold to exchange amongst ourselves, our economy is failing! What are we going to do?"
"We should raid them back! Only that way will we be rich again!" said a voice from the crowd.
"Raid and kill them!" shouted the townspeople.
Bon glanced around and cleared his throat. He then spoke in a soft voice, and everyone leaned in to hear what he had to say.
"War is expensive, it costs lives and resources. We have other alternatives, why not try something that won't hurt us any further?"
"What alternative do you suggest?" asked another of the elders.
"There is always the treasure on Terror Rock; one of us could go up there and retrieve it. Then we will no longer be poor, and our town will regain the comfort we had just lost," suggested Bon. Hab rolled his eyes at the idea, scoffing at what had just been said. He stood up and opened his mouth, but was cut off by an elder.
"No one has ever returned from Terror Rock. To go there is to ask for death - the creature up there kills everyone who attempts to take the treasure from it! Don't be foolish Bon, we don't need anymore people dying."
"I shall go and risk my life for the better of our town," Bon proclaimed. He seemed to want to prove himself, and everyone stared at him in amazement. Hab, however, was not impressed.
"You idiot, you couldn't even fight off a child! What makes you think that someone as lame and inept as you could do such a thing?" barked Hab. He chuckled and looked around, expecting everyone to laugh along with him. No one did.
"Then go with me if you think I'm so useless, brave Hab," replied Bon. "You are skilled with the sword, maybe you will defeat the monster on Terror Rock!"
"So be it! I shall go with you, and return a hero!" stated the arrogant stepbrother.
Everyone agreed, and the forum cleared.
The next day, the stepbrothers met once again in the forum. An elder was there, and he seemed eager to speak to them. He stumbled his way to them, and handed them a satchel full of food. The stepbrothers thanked him and left, then made their way to the foot of the mountain. Looking up, Bon realized just how high the mountain really was, and began to wonder what would happen if he ever lost his footing during the trip. He urinated himself, and Hab laughed at him for it. Bon watched his familiar companion climb several meters with relative ease, and after several reassuring breaths, he too climbed.
The day turned to evening, and evening to night, and Bon was lagging behind. Hab observed the struggles of his companion, and couldn't help but to feel a little bad for him.
"Bon, I have pity for you. I will slow down to help you keep up, just don't expect to reach the top before I do!"
"Thank you, Hab," said Bon, his voice raspy with exhaustion. With a deep breath, he picked up the pace and almost caught up with Hab, but when he got too close, Hab sped up just to prove a point. This made Bon doubt in himself as a man for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and continued his onerous task.
An hour later, Hab stopped climbing and waited for his brother.
"We shall rest for tonight, Bon. Regain your strength for tomorrow, and be ready to continue at sunrise," Hab announced, all the while opening the satchel and dividing food evenly. They both ate bread and dried fruit, then fell asleep a few feet from each other.
Morning broke, and the stepbrothers resumed their climb. After another strenous hour, they both finally made it to the summit, with Hab proudly standing at the top, and Bon barely making it there. They looked around and saw a forest of tall grass, and the scenery seemed unexceptional until Bon noticed something orange glowing in the corner of his eye. He brushed aside some vegetation, and once he saw what was there, his eyes widened with shock. There was gold lying around - pure, raw gold, orange and glowing, as if it had rained down from the sun. In fact, there was so much of it, not even the whole town could bring it with them had they all gone up together. As soon as Bon walked towards the treasure, Hab pushed him over and told him to stay where he belongs. Hab ran towards the nearest chunk of gold and picked it up. He held it up in the sun and it sparkled magically; it was the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. Hab filled his pockets and backpack with as many pieces of gold as he could carry on him, while Bon merely watched, his wrinkly face scrunching up in disappointment.
Suddenly, there was a clinking noise, and both brothers looked to see where it came from. About 20 meters away stood a short, hooved creature covered in white hair. On its head were massive horns, and it's face showed nothing but savage anger. It shrieked, and Bon's heart almost stopped from the terrifying 'BAAAAAAA!!!' the creature let out. Hab merely laughed.
"Is this it? This is the feared monster? Hahahahahahaha!! I've killed chickens bigger than this!" Hab then charged towards it, drew his sword, and cut off its head. The creature did not let out a single cry of pain or fear, and its glassy eyes stared back at Bon in an almost unnatural way that made it seem as if the defeated monster still knew they were there. This made Bon highly uncomfortable, but Hab merely walked away from the corpse, ready to climb back down.
"I shall be a martyr, and you shall be the man who witnessed my legendary feat," boasted Hab. The stepbrothers were just about to make their way down, until a piece of gold fell out of Hab's pocket. He leaned forward to pick it up, as it was too precious to leave behind, and just then they both heard a loud gallop, and the same shriek which had terried Bon earlier. Before either of them could react, another monster just like the first was charging into Hab's rear end, and the massive impact flung the older stepbrother off the summit and down below, and with him fell his gathered riches. Bon screamed after his sibling, and then faced the beast eye to eye. He was paralyzed in fear, and did not know what to do. The beast charged into him, and Hab nearly fell off the edge. He coughed up blood, and his ribs felt like they were on fire - he had never felt such pain before, but this did not prevent him from falling off, and he held on the edge with all the strength he could muster. The creature stared back at him with bloodshot eyes, and it was obvious it intended to kill him. All seemed hopeless until Bon noticed the satchel sitting at the edge with him, still full of food. He grabbed it and waved it around, and it caught the creature's attention. It snorted after it, and it seemed interested in the food held within. Bon threw it over the side, and the creature foolishly went after it, only to fall to its death. Bon was relieved, and after a heavy sigh, he made his way back down.
He returned to the town at late afternoon, and his hands were blooded and his feet burning with blisters. Bon collapsed and passed out, and people ran to tend to him. After waking up the following day, he was told that they had found his stepbrother's dead body hanging from a tree near the foot of the mountain, and there was gold scattered everywhere. Bon asked about the beast that had fallen as well, and they said they had found nothing but a slab of gold the size of of a dog. Bon was surprised, but did not try to make anything of it. He simply laid back in bed and passed out once again.
He awoke a few hours later, and as soon as he walked out of his hut, he was greeted by cheers and praises. His town was rich once again, and he had become a hero. The elders thanked him for his extraordinary work, and asked him if he would become town leader. Bon calmly declined with words that would be repeated for centuries after:
"I am just another man trying to do what's best for his people. Power means nothing to me, and neither do pride and greed. That was the downfall of my stepbrother, and it will be the downfall of me and everyone else if we do the same thing."
Bon then walked away into the forest, and that was the last time anyone ever heard from him. No one knew where he had gone, or what why he had left the down, but every now and then, more gold would be found at the foot of the mountain, and people would carry it back to the town and thank Bon's spirit for the stability he had brought back to everyone.
The end.
One day, two rival stepbrothers met in the town forum. The older sibling, Hab, was strong and fierce - a warrior with no fear and enormous battle experience. He was tall, muscular and handsome, with menacing eyes that would send a bear back into its cave. He also had many beautiful wives. All this earned him the respect of many, apart from the mild annoyance most experienced due his ever-growing ego. The younger one, Bon, was short, pudgy, and unusually wrinkled. His left leg was skinny and deformed, and it caused him to walk with an awkward limp. He was humble and reserved, yet doubted and ignored by many. Despite this, his intelligence and patient demeanour did give him some degree of value in the community, mostly as a casual advisor to the town elders.
The forum was already cluttered with people, but the two stepbrothers stood in the middle, with the elders sitting around them. There was a bit of an argument going on, and there was not one person who did not display a sign of frustration or worry, with the exception of Bon. An elder stood up and spoke in his raspy voice, and everyone crowded around to hear.
"Our enemies have pillaged our town and allies, and we are running out of goods to trade. We barely even have enough gold to exchange amongst ourselves, our economy is failing! What are we going to do?"
"We should raid them back! Only that way will we be rich again!" said a voice from the crowd.
"Raid and kill them!" shouted the townspeople.
Bon glanced around and cleared his throat. He then spoke in a soft voice, and everyone leaned in to hear what he had to say.
"War is expensive, it costs lives and resources. We have other alternatives, why not try something that won't hurt us any further?"
"What alternative do you suggest?" asked another of the elders.
"There is always the treasure on Terror Rock; one of us could go up there and retrieve it. Then we will no longer be poor, and our town will regain the comfort we had just lost," suggested Bon. Hab rolled his eyes at the idea, scoffing at what had just been said. He stood up and opened his mouth, but was cut off by an elder.
"No one has ever returned from Terror Rock. To go there is to ask for death - the creature up there kills everyone who attempts to take the treasure from it! Don't be foolish Bon, we don't need anymore people dying."
"I shall go and risk my life for the better of our town," Bon proclaimed. He seemed to want to prove himself, and everyone stared at him in amazement. Hab, however, was not impressed.
"You idiot, you couldn't even fight off a child! What makes you think that someone as lame and inept as you could do such a thing?" barked Hab. He chuckled and looked around, expecting everyone to laugh along with him. No one did.
"Then go with me if you think I'm so useless, brave Hab," replied Bon. "You are skilled with the sword, maybe you will defeat the monster on Terror Rock!"
"So be it! I shall go with you, and return a hero!" stated the arrogant stepbrother.
Everyone agreed, and the forum cleared.
The next day, the stepbrothers met once again in the forum. An elder was there, and he seemed eager to speak to them. He stumbled his way to them, and handed them a satchel full of food. The stepbrothers thanked him and left, then made their way to the foot of the mountain. Looking up, Bon realized just how high the mountain really was, and began to wonder what would happen if he ever lost his footing during the trip. He urinated himself, and Hab laughed at him for it. Bon watched his familiar companion climb several meters with relative ease, and after several reassuring breaths, he too climbed.
The day turned to evening, and evening to night, and Bon was lagging behind. Hab observed the struggles of his companion, and couldn't help but to feel a little bad for him.
"Bon, I have pity for you. I will slow down to help you keep up, just don't expect to reach the top before I do!"
"Thank you, Hab," said Bon, his voice raspy with exhaustion. With a deep breath, he picked up the pace and almost caught up with Hab, but when he got too close, Hab sped up just to prove a point. This made Bon doubt in himself as a man for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and continued his onerous task.
An hour later, Hab stopped climbing and waited for his brother.
"We shall rest for tonight, Bon. Regain your strength for tomorrow, and be ready to continue at sunrise," Hab announced, all the while opening the satchel and dividing food evenly. They both ate bread and dried fruit, then fell asleep a few feet from each other.
Morning broke, and the stepbrothers resumed their climb. After another strenous hour, they both finally made it to the summit, with Hab proudly standing at the top, and Bon barely making it there. They looked around and saw a forest of tall grass, and the scenery seemed unexceptional until Bon noticed something orange glowing in the corner of his eye. He brushed aside some vegetation, and once he saw what was there, his eyes widened with shock. There was gold lying around - pure, raw gold, orange and glowing, as if it had rained down from the sun. In fact, there was so much of it, not even the whole town could bring it with them had they all gone up together. As soon as Bon walked towards the treasure, Hab pushed him over and told him to stay where he belongs. Hab ran towards the nearest chunk of gold and picked it up. He held it up in the sun and it sparkled magically; it was the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. Hab filled his pockets and backpack with as many pieces of gold as he could carry on him, while Bon merely watched, his wrinkly face scrunching up in disappointment.
Suddenly, there was a clinking noise, and both brothers looked to see where it came from. About 20 meters away stood a short, hooved creature covered in white hair. On its head were massive horns, and it's face showed nothing but savage anger. It shrieked, and Bon's heart almost stopped from the terrifying 'BAAAAAAA!!!' the creature let out. Hab merely laughed.
"Is this it? This is the feared monster? Hahahahahahaha!! I've killed chickens bigger than this!" Hab then charged towards it, drew his sword, and cut off its head. The creature did not let out a single cry of pain or fear, and its glassy eyes stared back at Bon in an almost unnatural way that made it seem as if the defeated monster still knew they were there. This made Bon highly uncomfortable, but Hab merely walked away from the corpse, ready to climb back down.
"I shall be a martyr, and you shall be the man who witnessed my legendary feat," boasted Hab. The stepbrothers were just about to make their way down, until a piece of gold fell out of Hab's pocket. He leaned forward to pick it up, as it was too precious to leave behind, and just then they both heard a loud gallop, and the same shriek which had terried Bon earlier. Before either of them could react, another monster just like the first was charging into Hab's rear end, and the massive impact flung the older stepbrother off the summit and down below, and with him fell his gathered riches. Bon screamed after his sibling, and then faced the beast eye to eye. He was paralyzed in fear, and did not know what to do. The beast charged into him, and Hab nearly fell off the edge. He coughed up blood, and his ribs felt like they were on fire - he had never felt such pain before, but this did not prevent him from falling off, and he held on the edge with all the strength he could muster. The creature stared back at him with bloodshot eyes, and it was obvious it intended to kill him. All seemed hopeless until Bon noticed the satchel sitting at the edge with him, still full of food. He grabbed it and waved it around, and it caught the creature's attention. It snorted after it, and it seemed interested in the food held within. Bon threw it over the side, and the creature foolishly went after it, only to fall to its death. Bon was relieved, and after a heavy sigh, he made his way back down.
He returned to the town at late afternoon, and his hands were blooded and his feet burning with blisters. Bon collapsed and passed out, and people ran to tend to him. After waking up the following day, he was told that they had found his stepbrother's dead body hanging from a tree near the foot of the mountain, and there was gold scattered everywhere. Bon asked about the beast that had fallen as well, and they said they had found nothing but a slab of gold the size of of a dog. Bon was surprised, but did not try to make anything of it. He simply laid back in bed and passed out once again.
He awoke a few hours later, and as soon as he walked out of his hut, he was greeted by cheers and praises. His town was rich once again, and he had become a hero. The elders thanked him for his extraordinary work, and asked him if he would become town leader. Bon calmly declined with words that would be repeated for centuries after:
"I am just another man trying to do what's best for his people. Power means nothing to me, and neither do pride and greed. That was the downfall of my stepbrother, and it will be the downfall of me and everyone else if we do the same thing."
Bon then walked away into the forest, and that was the last time anyone ever heard from him. No one knew where he had gone, or what why he had left the down, but every now and then, more gold would be found at the foot of the mountain, and people would carry it back to the town and thank Bon's spirit for the stability he had brought back to everyone.
The end.
I wrote this for English class, and intend to hand it in soon. I just felt like showing it off on my blog, lol.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Beautiful sentence I wrote for a test
On Friday, October 13th, my English teacher had everyone write a test. On the last part, I had to read a paragraph, then create the first sentence of the next paragraph. Here is the paragraph we were given:
May was a hot month. The days passed slowly. There was no rain. The red sun shone brilliantly and brown skin became black. The wide rivers shrank quickly to little streams. Black crows gorged on the ripe and juicy mangoes. Red bananas ripened plentifully. Jackfruits burst readily. Tired mosquitos hummed vacuously in the fruity air. The flies stunned themselves against the clear windowpanes and died instantly. The nights were clear but filled frightfully with sullen expectation.
This is the sentence I wrote:
Hours had passed, yet the solemn silence continued to haunt the morning, with the ocean wearily trembling below, bleeding as the sun rose once again.
Satisfaction guaranteed!
May was a hot month. The days passed slowly. There was no rain. The red sun shone brilliantly and brown skin became black. The wide rivers shrank quickly to little streams. Black crows gorged on the ripe and juicy mangoes. Red bananas ripened plentifully. Jackfruits burst readily. Tired mosquitos hummed vacuously in the fruity air. The flies stunned themselves against the clear windowpanes and died instantly. The nights were clear but filled frightfully with sullen expectation.
This is the sentence I wrote:
Hours had passed, yet the solemn silence continued to haunt the morning, with the ocean wearily trembling below, bleeding as the sun rose once again.
Satisfaction guaranteed!
Sunday, 2 October 2011
THIS WAS WHAT HIT MY NEIGHBORHOOD!!!!
That dreadful day, August 21, 2011, the day Goderich fell to an EF3 tornado, I was sound asleep in my bed. The phone rang, and my mother was frantically trying to get a message across. In my half-awoken stupor, I struggled to understand what she was trying to tell me, until my fogged up mind finally registered the following:
Let your dog inside! There's a storm coming!
I asked my mom where she was, and she was only 10 minutes away from my house. I opened my bedroom curtains, and to my horror saw a rotating ring of low, loose clouds. This phenomenal celestial tragedy was moving towards my house, and with adrenaline I ran downstairs to the kitchen door and let my dog inside. I called my sister downstairs and told her to look at the window, and we both agreed - IT WAS A TORNADO!!!
My sister, my dog and I all ran downstairs, and 5 seconds later the entire house began to shake, all this accompanied by a loud high pitch roar that sounded like a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a blender. I looked out the tiny basement window, and to my surprise it looked like a blizzard was going on outside. Was this it for my house?
Once the noise and shaking ended, my sister and I walked upstairs and were relieved to find that our house had been left unscathed. We looked out the windows, stepped out the doors, and found everything in the neighborhood to be a mess. Dozens of major branches as thick as my waist had been snapped off their mother trees, and garbage bins and plastic chairs were scattered all over the street and sidewalks. Thankfully, not one house had its roof damaged or window broken, and I concluded that my neighborhood must have been hit by an EFO or EF1 tornado. That was when I felt my ego turn to dust - I didn't have a camera handy to record any of it.... DAMMIT!!!!!!!
This is exactly what the beast looked like, although it was in my neighborhood and not in some field:
Amazing...
My Anthropology Blog
If you're interested in what I had/have to say about anthropology, check out my blog at:
http://anthropologytime.blogspot.com/
I have only posted one thing on that blog, but it's a very polished piece of literature, and if I ever find the time to write more about anthropology, I'll be posting it there.
http://anthropologytime.blogspot.com/
I have only posted one thing on that blog, but it's a very polished piece of literature, and if I ever find the time to write more about anthropology, I'll be posting it there.
Bloody Terror, An UNSTOPPABLE Coming Reality?
RESEARCHERS CREATE VACCINE PROOF VIRUS
Mark Buller and his team may have accomplished a major breakthrough in pathology at the cost of international security. The St. Louis scientist spliced a gene known to act as an immunosuppressant into the Mousepox virus, which enabled it to evade any protection expected from vaccines. Mousepox, a close relative of Smallpox - about as closely related as we are to Neanderthals - is known to only infect mice, however with this new discovery we now know the same results can be achieved with the dreaded historical Smallpox virus.
Smallpox, known by medical professionals as Variola (Major and Minor), has not made face since it was eliminated from the public in the 1980's, yet stockpiles are known to exist, namely in American and Russian laboratories. There is NO guarantee that those are the only two countries to own samples of the virus, and even if they were, it may already be too late for the fresh meat of this generation. Russia has already been known to possess bioengineered pathogens with enhanced lethality and exaggerated symptoms; Smallpox is no exception..
Normally, Variola Major infection will produce the typical rash and pustules that disgust even the hardest of physicians, with an average mortality rate of 30%. This changes when the Smallpox sufferer develops hemorrhagic fever instead. Hemorrhagic Smallpox, also known as Blackpox, is perhaps one of the most revolting and inhumane pathological states mankind has ever experienced, making Ebola look like a common cold. Extreme hemorrhage that would normally be expected in a zombie movie are casual symptoms in Blackpox, leading up to a near 100% mortality rate. Fortunately for Smallpox sufferers, only a minority of them will develop this extreme condition, about 3 - 25%. Sadly, this fact is archaic, as Russia has modified this monster so that it produces Blackpox symptoms 100% of the time!!
It is common knowledge that Russia has one of - if not the most - extensive bioweapons program on earth, spending more money and resources on it than any other nation has ever dared to. Smallpox was and still is one of their key agents, enhanced over and over again until the perfect bioweapon materialized into a hellish reality - literally something of nightmares come true. Many sternly believe that by now researchers have already developed a strain of Smallpox which produces hemorrhagic symptoms every single case, and is guaranteed lethal. How they "tested" its lethality, one can only speculate. However, given Blackpox's ghoulish record for near certain death, as well as Russia's bioweapons capabilities, it's best not to doubt its efficacy. BLACKPOX KILLS - THAT'S A FACT.
Now here is where everything gets truly disturbing: The combination of Blackpox and immunosuppressant genes. Even worse, Mark Buller (the sadistic egocentric bastard) has published his findings to the whole world, so pretty much everyone now knows exactly what to do to create the perfect bioweapon. Whether it be terrorists or a spiteful country during wartime, anyone with resources and a little bit of time could easily create the single deadliest pathogen on earth. Face it, even if we ever did find a cure for such a cruel synthetic fate, millions to billions are still at risk for certain death - a bloody terror.
..all thanks to one man's ego.
BLACKPOX VIDEO (WARNING: EXTREMELY GRAPHIC):
http://www.shockvideos.org/video/When-nature-goes-wrong/theater#theater_title
SOURCES:
http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/2003-10-31-antivaccine-monkeypox_x.htm
http://www.apocalyptic.org/nature-and-science/only-00002-of-the-population-would-need-to-be-infected.php
http://www.hcpro.com/SAF-36055-877/Researchers-create-vaccineproof-virus.html
http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/2003-11-01/news/0310310925_1_smallpox-virus-mousepox-mark-buller
http://www.nytimes.com/2003/11/01/us/bioterror-researchers-build-a-more-lethal-mousepox.html
I ORIGINALLY POSTED THIS ARTICLE HERE:
http://forums.armageddononline.org/threads/29938-Bloody-Terror-an-UNSTOPPABLE-coming-reality
The Turning Point In My Life As A Writer
The following is an excerpt from an old video game review blog I had. This is actually the conclusion:
While time is plenty, life is still inevitably short, and thus you begin to wonder what type of games are worth experiencing in our terribly finite being. Shmups provide many options, but among the purest and most solid of experiences, Cho Ren Sha 68k shines through with an iron fist. Fine-tuned aesthetics may simply be tempting, but the magnificent gameplay result is by far the most engaging of all aspects, one with a spectrum so bright and content, we find ourselves blinded by a hopeless intimacy, only to be trapped between rotating doors thereafter; a neverending cycle of desperate compulsion and desire. This is the love-hate affair of the manic shooter.
See, I used to be a VERY lazy writer back in the day. I had spent most of my youth as a slacker, not trying hard, and I guess this blog was what changed it around for me. I made very little effort on the reviews there, but then gave it all I had in the conclusion for Cho Ren Sha 68k. Later on, I read my review and realized the difference in quality was exceedingly drastic between my conclusion and the rest of the post, and that in fact 100% of my writer should be like my conclusion. That realization motivated me to (from that point on) write at my best every single time I put my hands on a keyboard or pen, a move that guarantees that every paragraph, sentence and word would be meaningful and fully exemplary of my writing capabilities. Now 23 years old, I have matured into a hard working individual who intends to put 110% on EVERY piece of literature.
The blog can be found here:
http://shmup.xanga.com/
Ugh... I can't believe I used to slack off so much; that conclusion was an ice pack on the jewels for me!
While time is plenty, life is still inevitably short, and thus you begin to wonder what type of games are worth experiencing in our terribly finite being. Shmups provide many options, but among the purest and most solid of experiences, Cho Ren Sha 68k shines through with an iron fist. Fine-tuned aesthetics may simply be tempting, but the magnificent gameplay result is by far the most engaging of all aspects, one with a spectrum so bright and content, we find ourselves blinded by a hopeless intimacy, only to be trapped between rotating doors thereafter; a neverending cycle of desperate compulsion and desire. This is the love-hate affair of the manic shooter.
See, I used to be a VERY lazy writer back in the day. I had spent most of my youth as a slacker, not trying hard, and I guess this blog was what changed it around for me. I made very little effort on the reviews there, but then gave it all I had in the conclusion for Cho Ren Sha 68k. Later on, I read my review and realized the difference in quality was exceedingly drastic between my conclusion and the rest of the post, and that in fact 100% of my writer should be like my conclusion. That realization motivated me to (from that point on) write at my best every single time I put my hands on a keyboard or pen, a move that guarantees that every paragraph, sentence and word would be meaningful and fully exemplary of my writing capabilities. Now 23 years old, I have matured into a hard working individual who intends to put 110% on EVERY piece of literature.
The blog can be found here:
http://shmup.xanga.com/
Ugh... I can't believe I used to slack off so much; that conclusion was an ice pack on the jewels for me!
Introduction
This is the blog of Hugo The Savant, a Canadian Muay Thai practitioner and amateur writer. I was formerly known online as "redeyedol," and I still use the name "redeyeguy" for gaming purposes. Now I focus strictly on my life as a martial artist and writer, and this blog is just another canvas. Here I shall post my random thoughts, previous works, as well as links to works I had written elsewhere. Hope you enjoy my writing!
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