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In looking for the name of the research person Barry talked to when he first met Cincinnatus I noticed that Ep 13 seems to be missing from the list of member created threads. So, for anyone who doesn't have it, here's the site our beloved Shriek set up and titled "The Further Days of John From Cincinnati": Shrieks site
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807
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(72 of 72)
Nov 8, 2008 1:30 PM
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What, is another dreary season darkening the garden already? Build a fire if you'd like, but stand upwind 'cause the vines are gonna smoke.
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Edited by SpiritontheWater at 11/08/2008 11:23 AM PST
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Posts:
4,184
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Posts:
2,315
Registered:
8/16/07
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(70 of 72)
Nov 8, 2008 12:24 PM
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I don't find any more energy or inspiration to continue supporting the forum. As it stands, JFC will never come back, and, what is most important, the story now lost the promise it once held for me.
It turned into an improbable, impossible dream.
A dreamscape that disappeared, dissolved in harsh reality.
I am leaving the board.
I will never forget what happened in my life in these months after the show.
My gratitude and love to Walkara, for the enthusiasm that propelled the story of the Further Days to life, and to Spirit, whose dear voice spoke to my heart and soul, and who was my teacher.
Thanks to Waxon for the support and advice, and to Skor for the unwavering friendship.
Love to all.
A.K.
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Posts:
113
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(69 of 72)
Oct 26, 2008 8:34 AM
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thank you very much! i inadvertently posted this twice in the wrong place until sven pointed me in the right direction LOL! so please don't anyone think i'm a total egotistical bastard! and thanks again waxon!
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I'm here on orders from my bird.
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Posts:
821
Registered:
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(68 of 72)
Oct 25, 2008 11:15 PM
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Capt, I just have to say that I F'n love your writing! I find myself totally consumed in your scenes and hanging on every line.
Thank you for your effort and time spent on these.
I hope you will continue writing here.
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Posts:
113
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5/30/08
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(67 of 72)
Oct 25, 2008 3:59 PM
Rate this post:
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> SETTING: THE BAR
>
> Sitting barside are Vietnam Joe, Bandanna Buddy,
> Billy, the bartender and John From Cincinnati
>
> Joe: Man I had a really weird dream last night.
>
> Bandanna: What? Another one of those war dreams,
> Joe?
>
> Joe: Well yes and no, sort of.
>
> Billy: How much dope did you smoke before you went to
> bed?
>
> Joe: Fuck man, I haven t smoke in three days! Maybe
> that s the problem.
>
> Billy: Yeah, that s the problem (sarcastically).
>
> Bandanna: Well are you gonna tell us the dream or
> not?
>
> Joe: OK. Well back in boot camp before my unit even
> got to the Nam there was this kid named Bobby North,
> jesus he musta been damn near 7 foot tall, no shit,
> bright red hair and really, really white skin, you
> know the kinda guy that just burns up in the sun, ya
> know?
>
> John: Just burns up in the sun.
>
> Bandanna: Yeah I seen guys like that.
>
> Joe: Yeah, he was a big fucker alright, but he was a
> real gentle guy. On liberty night he wouldn t go to
> the whorehouse with the rest of us or go down to the
> bar to fuck up the locals, uh-uh, not Bobby. He d
> rather go to see some foreign movie or to the library
> to read a book or something for chrissakes. He
> shouldn t been in no fucking army that s for damn
> sure.
>
> John: He shouldn t been in no fucking army that s for
> damn sure.
>
> Billy: Did he enlist or what?
>
> Joe: Fuck no! Got drafted just like the rest of us
> dumb motherfuckers. But he was a good guy, always
> had his shit together, always passed inspection,
> could blow the balls offa an ant at fifty yards, but
> the fucker just wasn t a fighter and just cause he
> was so big with that bright red hair and freckled
> face he just made an easy target for the other
> littler guys. Man they gave him some hard shit too.
> I saw one of the little Puerto Rican guys, Morales,
> , literally jump up off the ground to punch Bobby in
> the nose. Popped him a good one.
>
> John: Popped him a good one.
>
> Bandanna: No shit?
>
> Joe: No shit. And that little PR fucker stood back in
> a boxer s stance ready to throw, but Bobby just stood
> there rubbing his nose with both his hands, he just
> couldn t understand what the fuck he d done to
> deserve that, but then it started---
>
> Billy: What?
>
> Joe: His nose started bleeding, I mean just gushing
> red ya know, all down his GI t-shirt, down his
> fatigues onto his jungle boots. He tilted his head
> back to make it stop, but no fucking way he just kept
> bleeding and bleeding, fucking blood all over the
> place and then cause he got hit so hard, his eyes
> started tearing up, so here s this big Paul Bunyan of
> a guy standing in the middle of the barracks bleeding
> and crying it was awful.
>
> John: Awful.
>
> Bandanna: So then what happened?
>
> Joe: Well, Bobby just turned around and walked away.
> I saw him later laying out on his bunk with a wet
> towel wrapped around his face. I went up to him and
> asked him if he was oaky, he said yeah, he used to
> this shit useta happen to him all the time in school,
> littler guys beating up on him. Turns out his old
> man was some sort of minister or something, never
> taught him how to fight, but told him always to turn
> the other cheek, love your enemies all that kinda
> shit. Fuck man!
>
> John: Love your enemies.
>
> Billy: Well what the hell was he doing in the army
> then? He coulda went CO or something.
>
> Joe (laughs): No not old Bobby. He wanted to do his
> duty and all of that patriotic crap they fill your
> head with out there in fucking Iowa or some damn
> place.
>
> Billy: Nothing wrong with being with a patriot.
>
> John: Being a patriot.
>
> Joe: True. But I asked him, man, if you can t even
> defend yourself in a fist fight how how gonna be able
> to shoot the goddam enemy who by the way will be
> doing everything humanly possible to shoot him.
> That s different, he says. One is where I'm fighting
> for myself and the other is in defense of god and
> country.
> John: God and country.
End of Part I
Part II: The Bar
Joe: Well they shipped our asses over to Nam and man,
> we came in hot. The airfield where we was supposed to
> land at was under mortar attack, VC, NVA the whole
> fucking nine yards a real fucking horror show. We
> had to circle around for about an hour before we
> could land and as soon as we did we were taking
> fire.
>
> John: Taking fire.
>
> Billy: Tough place.
>
> Joe: Hell yeah. But Bobby man he was a smart fucker.
> While all the other guys were shitting their pants
> s and praying and crying, old Bobby was looking out
> port and spotting all the place were those little
> fucking dwarfs were firing from and when that troop
> place belly landed and the back hatch opened up,
> Bobby was the first one out, hit the ground running,
> firing his weapon like crazy directly at those spots
> he d seen. He looked like a one man cavalry! (Laughs
> shaking his head) He gave the hand sign for the rest
> of the guys to spread out and follow him and I ll be
> damned if they didn t. All the guys picked up on
> what Bobby was doing, pointing to the place where
> those little fucks were firing from. Bobby alone
> took out an entire mortar launching crew and the rest
> of those fuckers just hightailed outta there!
>
> Bandanna: Wow!
>
> Joe: Fucking-a man! We only had one KIA that
> day Morales the kid that bloodied Bobby s nose. When
> he heard about it he double timed over to the body
> screaming at the death detail to stay the fuck away
> from him. First time I ever really heard Bobby
> curse, ya know? He took Morales tags and jungle
> boots, picked him up like a baby and laid him down in
> the body bag so gentle like ya know? Zipped him up
> and let the death detail load him up on the same damn
> plane that brought him in. Fucking sad, man.
>
> Billy: I hear ya, bro.
>
> John: Fucking sad.
>
> Joe: Well, a big change came over Bobby. He still
> wouldn t go whoring with us, or get drunk, gamble and
> fight, I think I saw him take a beer once, didn t
> even curse, but fuck man, he was a first rate killer.
> He had 13 confirmed kills, including an NVA officer,
> a lieutenant I think, one water buffalo, two dogs and
> a nine-year-old girl. The animals couldn t be helped
> and the girl was an accident. The water buffalo was
> in the his line of fire so he had to take it out to
> get a clear shot, and then we were on this search and
> destroy mission in this vill and the dogs attacked
> him, just doing their job I guess, but Bobby he had
> this phobia about germs and getting diseases, you
> know like rabies and shit, so he took the dogs one
> round a piece.
>
> John: One round a piece.
> Joe: Yeah. So we were rounding the villagers up outta
> their huts, trying to figure out who were the real
> civilians and who the VC were and that s when it
> happened outta the corner of his eye Bobby saw
> something move in one of the huts that shouldn t-a
> been there, and Bobby man he just wheeled around
> slicker n snot and let loose a burst of fire with
> that Thompson and busted through the door of that hut
> alone and then it got real quiet and then we heard
> Bobby give out a long loud wail, like a howling wolf.
> We all thought he was celebrating a kill. But then
> n it come to us Bobby was crying, wailing man, and he
> come outta that hut carrying that dead girl in his
> arms howling and crying. The medics relieved him of
> the girl and Bobby went off by himself and we just
> let him be, til we was done cleaning up the vill.
>
> Billy: But what about the dream, Joe?
>
> Joe: Yeah well I m getting to that. After that Bobby
> really went kinda fucking crazy. After a really
> brutal fire fight the VC tried to surrender, threw
> their weapons down, hands up screaming, Dong hai,
> dong hai and old Bobby, he just spit on the ground
> and said, Dong hai my ass! And blew the fuckers away.
> He went and cut the guy s dicks off, stringed em up
> and wore them around his neck like love beads, man!
>
>
> John: Like love beads.
>
> Joe: The stink was unbearable. All the guys respected
> Bobby, followed him without question, but man sitting
> down to eat with him was whole nother story. Bobby
> understood, didn t take any offense. Usually we let
> the FNGs take point when we were out on patrol, but
> Bobby d always volunteer. He liked being in the
> shit.
>
> John: Liked being in the shit.
>
> Joe: And then it happened.
>
> Billy: What?
>
> Joe: Well we were walking the trail, Bobby a few
> meters ahead of me. He d let his hair grow down past
> his shoulders and grew this great big bushy red
> beard, he d lost weight like we all did, but he put
> on some muscle too. He looked like one of those
> Viking Beserkers, crazy to die, man!
>
> John: Crazy to die, man!
>
> Joe: It was just getting dawn, the sun rising behind
> us and that s when I heard it, a soft pop sound. I
> thought one of the guys behind us had cracked open a
> beer. Bobby just stopped, we all stopped, frozen,
> waiting for his hand signal either spread out or
> thumbs up for OK, but he just stood there and then I
> saw a little hole right in the back of his neck, just
> below the helmet line, a little trickle of blood.
> Bobby turned round and man his face looked like
> e fucking hamburger, man, his jaw flapping loose, his
> tongue hanging like a thirsty dog, his teeth hanging
> like pearls and I swear to god, it looked like he was
> smiling and he just went down like a big red tree
> face first in the mud. It took about a second for it
> to register on us but Bobby was dead! Fucking sniper!
> Always some littler guy trying to take Bobby down ya
> know?
Billy: Jesus Christ Jesus Christ Jesus Christ!
>
> John: Bobby was dead.
>
> Joe: So I pointed up into the trees and the guys just
> let loose everything they had into the tree tops
> until finally this little VC fucker come flopping
> outta the palms like a drunken monkey, deader n
> hell.
>
> John: Deader n hell.
>
> Bartender: At least ya got the bastard Joe. But what
> about the dream?
>
> Joe: Well Bobby come to me, long red hair flowing,
> his big bushy red beard, his face all put back
> together like normal, and Bobby s laughing, still in
> his jungle camo, weapon at the ready and this what he
> says& he says:
>
> Joe, there is death in all your ecstasies, that is
> the nature of the dimension you live in, but you
> don t have to deny yourself any pleasures. Own what
> you desire and all that exquisite energy will be
> released as waves of joy on earth as it is in heaven.
> Stop judging what you are doing. Own it or stop
> doing it and decide to be alive.
>
> Billy getting off his barstool: I gotta go home and tell my bird about this!
> >
> Bartender: I never heard anything like that before,
> especially not in a dream.
>
> John: Some things I know and some I don t but this
> man knows a lot. He is with my Father and Mother now.
> He sees God the Mother of God. He is not dead, Joe.
> He will be born again. Not farewell, oh warrior, but
> fare forward.
>
> Joe: Fucking-a!
Bartender: That calls for a round of beers on me!
End of Part II
--
I'm here on orders from my bird.
--
Edited by captpeace at 10/25/2008 1:01 PM PDT
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Posts:
113
Registered:
5/30/08
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(66 of 72)
Oct 25, 2008 8:13 AM
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GETTING IN THE GAME
Now Jesse was the son of a carpenter, and, man, back in the day you did what your daddy done. So Jesse learned the trade but unlike his brothers, he was a little unreliable and every so often he'd just flat out disappear, maybe hitching a ride with one of the caravans passing through Nazareth over to that beach town Magdala for some sun and swimming and of course, girls. That's where he met Mary or Maggie as she liked to be called.
Mag showed him many things in the ways of a woman, but best of all she showed him her stick, her longboard. The Sea of Galilee isn't the best surf spot on the map, but when it's the only spot you got you make the best of it. You work here. You find the fun in everything. At best the surf was only 50 to 80 centimeters high, not much and the wave conditions were usually edgy. But for two kids just out to have some fun, it wasn't bad at all. Sometimes they'd really get the itch and hitch a ride over to the coast, Jaffa maybe and catch some real bitchen waves. But finally Jesse'd run out of shekels, Mag'd have to go back home to face her father and mother who usually held their heads in shame at their crazy free roaming surf riding daughter, but back home she'd come and try to be a good obedient daughter as long as she could stand it, do her chores, thinking of Jesse and the waves and the ride all the while.
Meanwhile, the prodigal son Jesse would return to his middle of fucking nowhere desert town of Nazareth and his father Joe and his hardworking, ever obedient and kinda dull and boring brothers, Jimmy, Johnny and Joey. Man, the looks they'd give him were the looks of death, if not envy, cause all the while he was out on his surfing safari with that young crazy surf chick, they had to pull his end of the labor at their father's wood shop, making woodcutting treks out to the olive tree groves, hauling raw lumber, working the wood, none of it easy.
After what Jesse saw at Magdala, riding Maggie's big board and watching the other surfers at Galilee and all up and down the seacoast, Jesse started shaping his own boards on his own time. Long after his brothers and his dad and the hired help went home for the evening meal, they'd hear Jesse out in the shop shaving and shaping the long wooden board he intended to take along with him on his next trip to Magdala. He was so happy just to be alone, working, humming the water songs Maggie had sung for him while they sat at water's edge at night, in the flickering light of the driftwood bonfire. He was glad to be alone so he could take his shirt off revealing the tattoo he'd gotten in Jaffa on his upper right arm, a picture of a breaking wave encircled with the inscription, PRAY FOR SURF. His dad would never understand that.
But then something really weird happened. One early morning a platoon of Roman soldiers rode in led by a centurion who was ordered by the governor himself to commission old Joe to start making wooden crosses for their many executions in Jerusalem, Palestine and other big cities where the rebels, freedom fighters they called themselves, were actively attacking Roman troops. And when the centurion spotted the longboard Jesse was shaping, he was quite intrigued and had his envoy of troops appropriate it, thinking it would make the perfect base of a crucifix. At first Jesse resisted. He'd worked long and hard on this one, but chilled out by the looks on his dad's and brother's faces. Naturally he let the Romans take whatever it is they wanted. These guys didn't fuck around. They'd just as soon cut a hand or an entire arm off as swat a fly if you got into their face.
The Roman soldiers kinda wondered what the hell this thing really was. It looked sturdy enough and long enough to hold up a man on a crosspiece for a few days in the agonizing process of execution, but it sure did have a funny shape for the base of crucifix. Naturally old Joe took the commission happily. Steady money, Roman money no less, coming in, Praise Elijah! Maybe he could save up enough to finally retire with the wife over at some seaside town or maybe go back to Bethlehem, leave the business to his sons. Oy, but that Jesse! What a pain in the ass! Unreliable. A dreamer. Carousing with that young Magdeline girl. What would become of him? And look at him glaring at those Romans! Great Elijah, he'll get us all killed in the end!
Yeah, Jesse was pissed! He watched stone faced, glaring with anger as the Roman soldiers loaded up his board on a packhorse and took it away. OK, he thought, these fucking pigs want crosses? I'll give 'em crosses. I'll make them the finest fucking crosses they ever saw! But they'll never touch another one of my boards again!
The change in Jesse amazed even his own dad, not to mention the folks around town. He was always known as a wild living youngster, getting into mischief, repelled by hard work and responsibility, hitchhiking around the country, in search of what? But now, in the shop he'd be as the sun was cracking dawn, long before any of his square brothers even got up out of bed and he'd work, work all day making those crucifixes one after the other. His mom'd come down from the house and practically have to pull him away from his tools for the noonday meal. He'd wolf down one of those great fish sandwhiches she always made for him and once he was done, rather than go and take his usual midday nap under the shade of an olive tree, he'd head straight back into the shop working as hard as ever. But then, in the evening after supper, yeah, that was his time, working in the light of the oil lamps, shaping his boards, humming Maggie's songs, glancing at his own tat from time to time for inspiration and strength, envisioning those waves, wave after wave after wave, with him and Maggie riding those babies, skin glistening wet in the hot sun, laughing, living the life once again!
Down through the ages, volumes have been written in supposition of what Jesus did for those "missing" 18 years from the time of his 13th birthday until he showed up at the Jordan River to hang with his wild man cousin, John. No big secret. No big mystery. Jesse was on world wide surfing safari.
--
I'm here on orders from my bird.
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Posts:
4,184
Registered:
8/22/07
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(65 of 72)
Oct 24, 2008 12:39 AM
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OK, now the threat: If some of you don't start adding to the story, I am going to have Butchie campaigning for McCain, Bill having an affair with Palin, and John parroting George Bush!
(If that doesn't do it, I don't know what will)
Ruh Roh!
--
"Laugh or go crazy..."
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Posts:
821
Registered:
8/13/07
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(64 of 72)
Oct 24, 2008 12:25 AM
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Good job, Skor! Good job, Sven! Thanks for keeping the story alive. As for the rest of our little community, here, I say "Come on!" There are thoughts in your head about the JFC story - just start typing and give them a chance to come out. You don't have to direct the plot. Just imagine what you might expect someone to say next. Or share what you thought was coming. Or just have someone step on a hypodermic needle or something! I know you all have it in you - otherwise you would not be reading this post, right now!
Must I say it? Share the wealth! I am hungry for the story and darn it all, I want some pie! I am not too proud to admit it.
OK, now the threat: If some of you don't start adding to the story, I am going to have Butchie campaigning for McCain, Bill having an affair with Palin, and John parroting George Bush!
(If that doesn't do it, I don't know what will)
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Posts:
821
Registered:
8/13/07
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(63 of 72)
Oct 18, 2008 11:37 PM
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Great scenes, Skor!
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Posts:
4,184
Registered:
8/22/07
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(62 of 72)
Oct 8, 2008 2:17 AM
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Thanks, Wax.
I think it would be great if we could write some scenes and get into the JFC mode, even if just briefly. I would imagine that some of us may be in need of a diversion from this crazy place that is our world. I speak for myself. Thanks for the update.
--
"Laugh or go crazy..."
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Posts:
821
Registered:
8/13/07
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(61 of 72)
Oct 8, 2008 2:01 AM
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As of this date in episode 17 (Arrivals and Departures, Cont'd):
Butchie, Mitch, Cissy, John and Shaun have just returned to Cissy's house following the wild ride at the surf competition in IB
Dr. Smith and Bitsy are also at the Yost house
Link, Jake, Cass, Freddie, Palaka, Tina, were at the event.
The car salesman was at the event
Noah was sitting on the beach nearby the event
Adam was walking on the beach towards to event
Meyer and Barry have been accosted in route to Sea World
Ms. Alibaster and Mr. White are Somewhere off the Pacific coast of Mexico, in a house is perched on a steep, 150 feet cliff on one of the small islands.
Bill is at home
Ramon left Bitsy at the clinic
Emma and Luke just had a car accident but are OK
Dwayne left the hotel
Erlemeyer and Flor just left Flor's house
Kai is on her way to Hawai
Daphne was last seen at the hotel
Jerri is most likely at work
Vietnam Joe ?
Moana ?
Quinticious and Lucious ?
Cincinnatus?
The mysterious 9 guests that placed reservations at the Snug Harbor ?
C'mon, Captpeace! You can do it! You have the spirit of JFC in you!
Good night, all!
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Posts:
113
Registered:
5/30/08
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(60 of 72)
Oct 7, 2008 5:23 AM
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yeah there's also this guy out in Malibu or maybe Huntington Beach aka "Surf City" calls himself the Surfing Rabbi.... yep a real rabbi who surfs.... I think he has a website too! Shalom Surf's Up!
--
I'm here on orders from my bird.
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Posts:
4,184
Registered:
8/22/07
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(59 of 72)
Oct 6, 2008 9:21 AM
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Not bad at all, Captpeace. Keep writing!
Such timing for this! It made me smile.
Spiritual Surfers
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"Laugh or go crazy..."
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Posts:
113
Registered:
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(58 of 72)
Oct 6, 2008 5:08 AM
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aw shucks ladies, t'weren't nothing! LOL! BTW many thanks to skorda for inspiration, encouragement, proofreading, suggestions and a good kick in my creative butt.... I would've never done this w/o her. I'm so glad you liked it. It's really not as "refined" as I'd like it to be but I guess not bad for a first effort, eh?
--
I'm here on orders from my bird.
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