Deaths Hand: Chapter 4


John and Jack had ran for what had felt like miles on end. And finally slowed down to a walk when they noticed nothing following them. Less than three blocks away, the lights of the military base illuminated the darkened sky.

“What the fuck just happened?” Jack got out between his breaths.

The weight of the armour, weapons and the ammunition they were carrying felt like it weighed a ton. It had slowed them down while they were running, and it concerned them. They did not want to take it all off, in case the thing returned. It seemed it could help protect them from whatever it was.

Celebration gun shots were ringing off, and tracers were illuminating the night, like small glow worms making their way up an invisible thread at high speeds. The sounds seemed to be coming from everywhere. There would have been no way the guards at the base could have differentiated the shots from them protecting themselves, and all the rest.

John looked behind them, “I have no idea. It came so fast.” Sweat was pouring into his eyes, blurring his vision.

They had just passed the last house on the street. There was only a field now between them, and the security of the base. The field was eerily dark, and whenever a slight wind caught the tall grass, it moved, alerting John’s senses.

They kept moving forward.

Behind them somewhere there was a loud bang, like something hitting one of the buildings. To John it was in slow motion, as he and Jack turned their heads. The slight sense of comfort and security had now completely vanished when they noticed the figure perching on the corner of the roof behind them.

It sat there, illuminated by the single light on the street below it. On its face, a liquid, what John figured to be blood, dripped down to the street below. Its hand gripped the corner of the building, and it was crouched down, looking at the lights of the base. Slowly John saw it turn its attention to them.

John took off running before Jack, who seemed to be again in denial of what it was he was looking at.

Looking back as he ran across the uneven field, looking for footing, he witnessed the beast again leap from the building. in a single leap it covered the space between it and Jack.

Jack had avoided at the last possible moment the creature, who landed on the ground directly beside him. He was raising his rifle to fire upon it.

John was as well, and began firing across his side blindly in the direction of the beast, while he ran forward. Less than 2 blocks left to the seemingly safety of the base.

Tracer flew in the direction of the beast, and jack who was now also firing blindly at the beast, starting to run in the direction of John.

To Johns horror, he watched as the tracer from his rifle started to fly into the body of Jack, who then fell to the ground. The beast was now on its feet, directly behind Jack, moving forward at amazing speed. it grabbed Jack by the arm, and flung the body completely off of the ground, and forty feet into the wall behind them. Jacks body hit with a loud thud, and pieces of wall and jack flew through a hole created from the impact.

The creature kept moving forward at amazing speed.

Less than one block to go. Through the darkness, Johns unsure footing finally failed him, as he stepped into a hole in the ground.

He fell to the ground heavily. His breath shot out of him in a single grunt, as a large stone hit him in the chest.

John rolled onto his back, just in time to see the creature flying, what he thought to be gracefully, directly at him. within a second it was over.

—-

Tim Jackson sat in the guard tower on the Military base watching the tracers from the celebration fire rise into the night sky. In his ears the music of Led Zeppelin’s, When The Levy Breaks blasted through the headphones.

If Tim had turned his attention slightly to his right, he would have just made out a creature ripping one of his fellow soldiers apart in the darkness enshrouded field.

-Prologue-

The creature leaped back onto the roof of the building, and started making its way back to the security and comfort of the tall building it had resided in for the last six years.

Up on the roof, in the shade of the small enclosure that stood there, it could survey the city during the day.

The creature knew that the soldiers would send out more, when the bodies were found. but they would not think to blame the creature.

Not since the time the humans referred to as the crusades, had the creature been seen. It had gotten spotted a few times, which had created legends amongst the humans. They called him Vampire, demon, devil or Werewolf. They then told the stories to each other to create fear amongst themselves for fun.

These humans today would blame other people for the deaths of their comrades. Vendetta would ensue, which gave the beast another guise to venture out to feast.

Humans were easy to predict. They thrived on emotions, which made it easy to prey on them.

Up on the roof top, it looked out onto the city that spread out before it. Tomorrow it would feed again. Tomorrow it would relish in the chaos and gore it created.

Tomorrow it would absorb more human souls to feed its immortality.

Deaths Hand: Chapter 3


The beast turned in time from his fresh kill, to notice two of his  prey turning and running down a darkened street side.

He didn’t mind, as he already had their scent in his nose, and will follow up later.

Since as long as the beast could remember, there has been the perfect opportunity for the creature to feast when it needed. Over the course of tens of thousands of years, these creatures that referred to themselves as humans, have been fighting each other for what ever reason they felt important at the time.

Land, women, religion or race. However the beast didn’t care why, but loved the amount of souls it was able to devour in order to extend its existence. Under the guise of war, the beast could hide its feeding. These humans made it so easy. War was the perfect cover.

The beast remembers the time when it had no need to hide in the shadows. It was able to feed as it wished, as the humans worshiped him openly. They would refer to him as PramayA-Gabhasti, which translates to Deaths Hand. They would offer him the souls, and occasionally they would willingly offer themselves to him.

The beast turned to look at the petrified local man who was worshipping ans asking forgiveness from one of the many of the human gods. It reached out with its hand, and it completely engulfed the head of the puny human.

However in the beasts mind, it is the last few thousand years that humans have killed themselves in such quantities that the beast was able to hibernate between sustaining itself. There were people who were referring to themselves as Romans, Celts, Picts, Anglos, Saxons and Germanics who were systematically and without remorse killing each other. A while later there was this amazing thing that the humans called a plague, that helped the beast truly engulf itself with the souls of them.

It then took a thousand year hibernation, to awake in Europe and the humans were killing themselves in numbers that were almost impossible to keep up with. The beast was able to move between places where battles were taking place. Here the beast was able to slowly feast, and witness the horrors that these mortals were putting on each other.

Over the course of the last hundred years, there has been at some point every second of every day, at some place on the planet a war. Where the smell of blood would attract the beast. It would travel to the area where the blood was originating from, and feast itself, providing itself the needed energy to sustain its eternal life.

With the puny humans head in its hand, it looked down the area where the two humans had run. Slowly the beast flexed it’s fingers, it could feel the cartilage of the ears of the human first crack under the pressure it was placing on it.

It could feel the soul of the human slowly slip into the beasts own flesh. There was no need to feed physically on these creatures, it was only a pleasure. the flavour of the flesh, blood and the hardness of their bones actually excited the beast when it snapped in its mouth.

Still harder it flexed, and then came an amazingly loud and pleasurable snap, as the skull of the human fractured in multiple places under the pressure.

Its focus was still upon the two running down the street away from it.

Finally the flesh of the humans head in its hand gave way to allow the now over pressured internal contents to escape their torment. Its blood showered the beast in a joyous rain that stained its own flesh in a colourful cascade of crimson.

It was the exact moment the humans soul was assimilated fully into the beasts body. Deaths Hand was now slightly satisfied. However from the earlier engagement of the human with its weapon, it would need to replenish the souls it took to repair itself.

The humans body fell and slumped to the ground, it was the first time the beast had turned it’s attention from the humans who were under the impression they were escaping. The beast saw how the blood now pooled around the mangled remains of the humans head. It enjoyed the sight of the gore around it that it was responsible for. How easily humans were destroyed. How fragile these creatures were. Yet they have always thought of themselves as superior. Immortal, no matter how close to mortality they were.

These two humans thought they had a chance to be saved, redeemed from the horrors they had witnessed. The horrors that had befallen their friends.

The beast would have fun with these two.

For it knew they were fatally wrong.

Deaths Hand: Chapter 2


The sergeant lay on the ground. His left arm shattered, and multiple puncture wounds in both. Bone fragment and blood leaked onto the asphalt. Dark crimson pools formed under his arms.

‘Why?’ he thought, as the pain became more than he could handle.

Suddenly a shot rang out. The beasts body seemed to explode right above its chest. Blood spattered onto the sergeants face. He started to feel a sense of hope.

Again and again its body sprung holes as bullets penetrated its putrid flesh. It held up its right hand like it was blocking some bright light, when a bullet whizzed by and took its middle finger with it. It’s face seemed to explode as a bullet entered its head and again exit just above it’s left eye.

It was jack, the sergeant figured, opening fire with the Squad Automatic Weapon.

Tracer, and the sound of gunfire filled the crossroads. The tracer disappeared into the creatures chest, then re-appeared as it came out it’s back. This was one of the weirdest things the sergeant could remember seeing. He thought that it looked like extremely fast fireflies buzzing directly at, through and out the back of this… thing.

The fire from Jack didn’t let up until the creature finally fell onto the sergeant limp. Blood and brain matter began pooling on the sergeants chest, and neck.

It was at this moment the sergeant caught his first smell of the beast. It smelled like rotting meat and eggs, which came from its flesh and it’s hair.

Then the sergeant saw it. It’s head, which was split apart from the crown of its head to its neck started slowly healing itself. New flesh was filling the gaps, while its brain started re-forming itself and slowly it’s face began closing the gap.

Bell arrived at the sergeant first and started to pull its foot claws out of his arms. His left arm moved strangely as he removed the last claw, and he noticed it was bent in the middle of the upper arm. Bell knew then it was broken.

“Sarge, your arms broke. This thing did a number on you sarge.” bell said as he reached for the beasts arm.

“Just get this damn thing off of me, goddamn it! Lets get the fuck out of here!” The sergeant yelled as air finally returned to his lungs.

Burch helped the sergeant to his feet, and was assisting him toward the guard shack with Bell.

A rustle behind them made all three come to a sudden stop in their tracks. Slowly all three turned their heads to see the origin of the noise.

The creature stood, it’s back toward them. It grabbed the hem of its leather overcoat and pulled it tight.

Then it turned.

It’s face was still closing the gory hole that had split it’s head into two. Then it was done, it looked as if nothing had happened to it.

“Holy sh…” Bell snapped, but could not finish. The beast sprung into the air filling the gap between them, kicking Bell in the cheek. The sound of bone breaking filled the air between the alleys. Knocked unconscious he fell to the ground like a rag doll.

In the same moment it’s left arm swung around, hitting Burch in the face with his claws, tearing muscle and tendons. His jaw came completely off of his face, spattering the sergeant’s face with new blood and saliva. The gaping hole dripped with gore and mucus. He fell to the street grasping where his lower mandible was once attached. Blood poured from between his fingers, as his tung made a kind of macabre dance in the air.

Jack and John stood helpless. The sergeant took a step backwards, tripping on a curb, landing on his butt.

The creatures eyes seemed to flash as it looked at John and Jack. It then turned its attention back to the sergeant. It’s jaws seemed to unhinge as it bent over towards the sarge. It’s mouth was growing twice its normal size. It made contact with the sergeants neck, as he started to scream and beat at it’s face with his right hand.

It bit down on his neck with a ripping sound. Piercing the carotid artery showering it’s face with fresh blood. The blood also fell like a crimson rain onto the street, and sidewalk. A suckling noise arose from it’s mouth.

The Iraqi man had not moved from his position. He uttered prayers to Allah, while fingering the beads in his fingers. His eyes shone from the sheer size of them, reflecting the light from the single bug encrusted streetlight in the road.

The sergeant went limp in it’s grasp. It released its mouth from his neck, showing the tremendously large wound. Half of his neck was missing. Bone and cartilage protruded from the flesh. His trachea was exposed, and quivered in his death pangs.

Flesh hung from the creatures fangs, dangling as he turned his face to look at the other two on the ground. It ignored Burch, still writhing in pain, and turned it’s attention to Bell, who was just shaking the darkness from his eyes. Recovering fully only to see the shining eyes of the beast mere inches from his face.

Bell screamed.

The scream became muffled as the creature covered his face with it’s mouth. A slow crunching noise, like that of a dog breaking a bone in it’s mouth, permeated the air as it’s teeth broke through his skull and jaw bone. The scream abruptly ended.

When the creatures mouth finally closed and it turned it’s head toward Jack and John, the body that had once been Bell  fell onto the ground. Where his face had once been turned toward the two. The gaping hole, covering his whole face, was nothing more than blood, and bone fragments mixed with teeth, and an eye that was shrinking as the fluid leaked from it.

“Go! Get out of here” John yelled at Jack. They had been staring in horror, paralyzed as it all transpired. Reality never never set into them until Burch lay on the ground, looking at them with tears streaming down his bloody cheeks, still grasping where his lower jaw had once been. Death slowly creeping upon him as the blood pulsed from his arteries.

“Move it, Get the fuck outa here!” He yelled again, grabbing Jacks sleeve, pulling him with. Forgetting the Iraqi driver as they ran down a side street.

Deaths Hand: Chapter 1


Chapter 1

Darkness descended on the city fast. It was almost otherworldly. One by one lights, either gas or electric (for those who had electricity), flickered to life.

Soldiers patrolled the streets, mounted on HUMVEE trucks, or patrolling by foot. Their vehicles belching out black smoke as they passed by side streets. Foot patrol radio’s crackled with life, beeps alerting the radio operators of an incoming transmission. The only audible sound from feet away.

The rifle men had eyes peeled, waiting for movement, their fingers on the triggers of their M-4 carbine rifles, ready to end any trouble that may arise.

They walked toward a vehicular checkpoint operated by an airborne platoon, private John Weaver the first they saw. Beside John stood Specialist jack Avery. They were the security force watching the roadblock set up, which was manned by Sergeant Bill Watson, Private Stewart Burch, and Private Timothy Bell.

John’s M-4, loaded, scanned the buildings and streets. He secured the vehicle inspection point from gunfire, or any other attacks.

The patrol passed, and the soldiers exchanged waves, and a couple small words. Finally the foot soldiers disappeared around a corner continuing their rounds.

Off in the distance gun shots rang out. Automatic fire still in celebration of the coalition forces freeing the city. The tracer of the rounds visible as it streaked into the night sky, and disappeared as the tracer burned out.

John fought the encroaching boredom. During the day, children and adults choked around the checkpoint. Screams of joy, the occasional “Praise Bush” and yells of “Water Mister” came regularly.  Without electricity, water, or money, many people were forced to beg for handouts, whatever and from whomever they could.

Headlights turned a corner, and approached the checkpoint. It was a white and orange taxi which came to a halt in front of Sergeant Watson. He had the driver exit the vehicle, and open the trunk and hood. Private Bell had him step away so that the sergeant could inspect the contents of the car, looking for explosives, illegal weapons or contraband.

John’s attention was pulled to his left, toward a dark alley. He was unsure what he just saw. Man? Animal? It was unclear, but it moved again.

“Sergeant Watson, there’s something in the alley over there.” John said.

“What is it Weaver?” The question came from under a seat where sergeant Watson was currently inspecting.

“Dunno, it’s hard to tell, it’s too dark”

“Put on your night vision goggles, idiot!”

He had forgotten he had them attached to his helmet. He rotated them down and turn them on. When he finally got them focused on the alley, whatever was there was gone.

“Aint shit there, guess I was seeing things” John said to no one in particular.

The driver was starting to mumble something in Arabic.

“Shut him up!” the sergeant said.

John continued to scan the alley, as Jack pulled security to the rear. He manned a M-249 Squad Automatic Weapon, it uses the same size ammunition as the M-4, but it is a fully automatic machine gun. He had a night vision scope attached to it, and was scanning left and right, covering the street to the squads rear.

The sergeant moved to the engine of the car, and was shining a flashlight in the compartment. He had placed the hood between him and Bell, who was guarding the driver.

Off to the sergeants right stood the guard shack that John and Jack occupied. To the sergeants front stood private Burch.

“Uh Sarge…” Burch said.

The driver continued to mumble something, but it was now almost inaudible.

“Bell, I said shut him up!” The sergeant moved his head and flashlight closer to the engine, “What is it Burch?”

“Bigger Problems Sarge” Bell said.

The sergeant lifted up from the engine, and shined the light toward Bell and the driver, blinding them momentarily. Their focus was on something above the guard shack to the sergeants rear.

The sergeant spun, the flashlight streaking a stream of light through the dust filled night sky, and aimed it at the top of the guard shack.

A pair of red eyes, almost human, yet definitely animalistic turned and glowed brightly when they made contact with the light.

The figure on the shack was human, or formerly human. It seemed to be dressed in all black. It was crouched down, left knee and right hand both resting on the sandbags that made up the roof of the shack. It’s hair was long, partially covering it’s face, resting on it’s back and hanging down to it’s chest.

It smiled, teeth sharp, as if they were filed to an almost razor point, yet they were almost an inch long. Saliva dripped from the longest of the teeth.

It then leaped. It was then the sergeant noticed its fingers. Claws tipped each one. They looked sharp, and they were almost as long as the fingers themselves. It flew through the air and drew its hand back as if it was fanning its wings to slow it’s fall, exposing it’s feet forward as it approached the sergeant. Referring to them as feet was the only thing the Sergeant could describe them as.

They were nothing like human feet, rather they were almost like hands in their own right. They too were tipped with massive claws, which as it approached him through the air, were yellowed with dark encrustations on them, like barnacles on the side of a ship, only much longer.

Contact came. It’s feet dug into the sergeants arms as he threw them up to repel the attack. The claws on it’s feet dug into the arms, breaking the skin, causing blood to flow. Blood, sand and desert uniform filled the wounds as the pain flashed into his head. The claws did not stop penetrating until they hit and chipped bone.

More flashes of pain shot thorough the sergeant as the force of the beast propelled him backward, toward the hard asphalt.

His back made contact first, causing his head to shoot backward. His helmet impacted with such force that his chinstrap ripped, launching the helmet off of his head. It skittered to a stop, after bouncing off a curb fifteen feet to his rear.

All the sergeant saw was black and white splotches in front of his eyes, as his brain impacted the inside of his cranial cavity. He forced himself to keep from blacking out from the hit and pain. Images of his family shot through his head. Young Peter’s first birthday. He could still taste the air, filled with the sweetness of cake, candle smoke and his wife’s perfume. He shook his head and regained consciousness around his second heartbeat.

He saw the beast draw back one of it’s clawed hands, then rake it across his chest. He thanked God that the Kevlar vest was mandatory to wear in his unit. The hand retracted after contacting only Kevlar and fabric, some of which dangled from it’s fingers.

The flashlight, which rested on the street within arms reach, revealed the face of the attacker. Definitely human. It’s mouth, and nose were slightly elongated, he thought, to facilitate its enormous teeth.

It turned it’s head and examined it’s claws. Craning it like a dog contemplating a new noise. It returned it’s gaze to the sergeants chest, and smiled. It’s grip on his arms intensified, shattering his left arm. New jolts of pain and adrenalin shot through the sergeants head. He tightly shut his eyes as it happened.

John turned his night vision goggles up just in time to witness the carnage.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” screamed privates Bell and Burch almost in unison.

Jack was just staring, while John was positioning himself to get better aim at it with his rifle.

“It’s fucking the sarge up, Shoot the bastard!” John yelled.

My Update 25 Sep 2013


Lance and Boo-Boo in Schweinfurt

Lance and Boo-Boo in Schweinfurt

Greetings Programs,

I wanted to let all of my readers know what is happening in my life right now, and a couple projects I have on the horizon that you may all be interested in.

First, I have now been working for a large factory here in Schweinfurt for a proud 6 weeks now. The company if ZF Sachs, I am loving the job, it is both physical and stimulating at the same time. I could not be happier to be working there.

So here is what is coming around the corner for all of you.

1) My novel, The Face In The Falls, is back on track. I am re-proofing my manuscript as it stands, and re-organizing my notes and plans for the rest of the book, and am organizing the story and character plots and dialogue for the rest of the novel.

For those who don’t know what The Face In The Falls is, it is the story of Issiquah Homicide detective, Jackson Anderson, King County Medico-Legal Pathologist, Mary Langstrom, and their investigation into the discovery of 7 bodies at the top of the Snoqualmie Falls in Washington State. It is a roller coaster ride of an investigation that will take both of them in a direction that no one had imagined.

2) Probably my most ambitious project to date, is my upcoming podcast, which has yet to be named, It will be hosted by me, and co-hosted by my Brother-in-law Kyle. We will be discussing subjects that are important to us, including Star Wars, toys, comic books and anything else we want to talk about.

It should be totally fun and entertaining, as both of us are ex-military, and some times rather dirty-mouthed. We are both also very dedicated to Star Wars, and are extremely excited for the new films and the announced director of the films.

I am also asking you, the reader, what you think I should name the Podcast. When it is available it will be downloadable on iTunes, but first I need a name that I can place them under.

This I leave to you…

Below please submit your ideas in the comments block.

I thank you all

Peace

Lance

Comics and E-Bay


One of the things I have been exploring lately is the purchase of comic books on the auction website, E-Bay.

With the recession in full swing, more and more people are trying to make a few quick bucks on E-bay selling various items in their collections. Be it a panel from an artist for a comic book, or their comic books in general. I have also had the pleasure of snagging a few collectible toys from the site as well.

E-Bay is a tricky place to purchase comThere are some rules when purchasing comics from E-Bay that you the reader and purchaser need to look for.

1) check to be sure that the seller has a grade for the comic. There will be some that do not follow certain price guide rules on grading. as a rule of thumb, here is the best source of information for the quality of comics…

http://www.comicspriceguide.com/p-conditions.aspx

ComicsPriceGuide_com

2) Feel free to contact the seller and ask questions about the comic, should he/she not have a grade for the comic, if you think they may not know what the grade is, then send them the link so they can check it out and give you a more accurate grade, to help you make up your mind on the purchase. The last thing you want to happen is to get a book for a decent price, only to have it show up in the mail with the cover no longer held by the staples, and the sellers name inside the cover from when he/she was younger. (This happened to me)

3) Sometimes the seller will include an image for the comic cover from another source on the internet. Many times this should give you a warning signal going off in your head. Yet sometimes they just can’t include an image due to technical difficulties, when this happens, feel free to contact the seller again.

4) this is a no-brainer. Check the shipping costs. I live in Germany, and have often found sellers that jack the cost of shipping, to offset the price they are selling the item for. IE: The item is on auction, but shipping will be $18.00 (Many do this since they know they will only make a couple bucks on the item, and will pocket the additional shipping fee you pay for shipping.)

 

With these in mind, shopping for rare and golden or silver age comics on E-Bay can be a blast. I am often betting on multiple comics each week, and some of the comics I have purchased have been in absolute perfect condition, even though they were printed in 1966 or so, I even have one from 1951 that was listed with the exact grade I placed it in as well.

*******Warning about auctions********

Winning the auctions is like an addiction, the more you bid on, and look for, the more obsessed with winning the auction you become. This can become costly. Make sure you constantly check with your pricing guide to ensure you are not paying too much for your comic, and remember to add in the cost of shipping to get your total purchase cost.

If you do not have a pricing guide, or if you want to access what I consider simply the best online resource for comic book collectors, please check out Stash My Comics, link below. ON the site making an account is not necessary, but if you do, you can create a collection database of your comics, including grade, value and search engines for looking for comics you are interested in purchasing. If you are unsure if an issue is the correct one, there are images you can click on to verify which issue you are bidding on.

I also use it to track the comics I want to bid on, based on the grading the seller has given the book. I can then determine if the price I am bidding, is too high for the comic, of if I am making a good purchase.

Please check them out, like I said, simply the best comic resource available, and fully interactive.

http://www.stashmycomics.com/

stashmycomics_logo

Now is the time to purchase comics, and with luck, should you decide, you can re-sell the items when the recession is over, and make a decent profit.

I wish you all luck

Peace.

Lance Goolsby

 

 

Comic Book Fantasies


Well, for those of you that know me, well personally, I am a big comic book guy.

Image

My first introduction to comics in the 1970′s was a Twilight Zone Comic someone left at my Grandmothers cabin on Mt. St. Helens. (Not this issue however)

It started for me back in the late seventies when we were visiting my Grandfather, Grandmother and Great Uncle at their cabin on Mount St. Helens. This was a few years before it blew its top in 1980. however, at some point, I think either my cousins or aunts and uncles had visited them and brought a Gold Key, Twilight Zone comic and left it behind. It was something new to me, reading, and having pictures to help fuel the imagination of the story. I wish to this day I had this comic, as it was my introduction. But every comic book collector has their “Holy Grail” of comic books that they search for their entire life, and mine is that Twilight Zone comic.

Shortly after leaving the mountain, and returning to Portland, where we were living for another year or so, so this would have been 1978, maybe the latest 1979, I went into one of the drug stores and saw, and looked at my first comic book spinner.

There in the area dedicated to magazines stood this tree like rotating stand with issues of comic books. I stood there with about 75 cents in the pocket, and looked at every issue on the rack. I was sure that I was getting quizzical looks from the staff, as I stood there alone, with my mother in the grocery store next door. Slowly I pulled three of the issues from the rack and made my way to the counter where a late seventies teenager was sitting with her charlies angels feathered hair, ala Farrah Fawcett. I placed the comics onto the counter, and paid my 75 cents for the three, then made my way with these three rolled up comics in my back pocket, sticking out over my Star Wars T-shirt.

I waited till I was home to read them, but snuck peeks at them on the short trip home, as we drove our station wagon with faux wood panel siding, the short distance to the house.

I wish I could remember the titles I had purchased, however one I will never forget, Mutants born with super powers, which in a way goes against everything super-hero comic books profess. Through one event or another every super-hero is imbued with their powers through seemingly tragic accidents.Superman was sent to Earth seconds before his planet of Krypton was destroyed (Turns out there were a couple other babies sent to earth at the same time, Super Girl, Super Boy, and even… Sigh… Krypto, the Super-Dog) Batman became a hero after his parents were killed, and he dedicated his life to avenging their death.

The Flash was hit by lightning while handling chemicals, giving him super speed. Hal Jordan was given a ring of power when he found a dying alien that had crashed to Earth. Steve Rogers was given a drug that turned him into Captain America. The list goes on and on, but there was this comic book that had heroes that were born with their powers.

Image

(from left to right) Storm, Colossus (the tall silver guy), Wolverine (the shorter guy), Cyclops, Banshee, Thunderbird, Sunfire and Nightcrawler (the blue guy with the tail)

The X-men instantly became one of my favorite stories. Following, at the time, Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Banshee, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Charles (Professor X) Xavier, Storm and eventually Wolverine.

There were arcing stories that took the reader into an alternate present day that was littered with people who were born with such a wide variety of powers that the possibilities were endless. Some used their powers for good, as Wolverine often times did, some used them for evil, such as Magneto.

These stories had a single overtone of hope for people like me, who were living with few friends, seemingly outcast because were not living the “Normal” life. I was a big Star Wars freak, collected trading cards, and was very, very hyper active. The main basis of the X-men stories was that they were always fighting for acceptance of the mutant kind by the rest of humanity. Fighting to be accepted as they were by the rest of the world. This spoke to me.

I openly accepted the X-men into my life. I bought and read every issue which for a while came out bi-monthly even, so I could continue my exploits of the team of heroes.

Lately, after my mental breakdown of last year, I got back into collecting the comics again, I have been looking for American issues of comics for sale here in Germany on E-Bay, and making some amazing purchases.

I am looking into the Golden age of comics, and Silver age. These are the years of comic books that is considered by many to be the best time of comic books, based on the stories, and artists that were supplying the panel drawings.

Some of my recent purchases, now hanging proudly in frames on my wall , are to me, simply amazing for the prices I paid. There may be more personal worth to the comics than true worth, but I don’t care. They were bought for me, to remind me why I love comic books so much.

Image

The Mighty Thor 135, 1966, cover art by Jack Kirby

One of the purchases was The Mighty Thor number 135, from 1966. The cover of this comic is great, inked by Jack Kirby who was an amazing artist. He has been considered one of the most influential artists in comics in history. He co-created heroes such as The X-Men, The Hulk and even The Fantastic Four. This cover features Thor fighting against The Man-Beast. (It is listed as the Super-Beast on the cover for some reason) The Man-beast if a High Evolution evolved wolf that had been hit with an evolution ray that caused it to become so powerful, and have mental powers as well. The creature becomes a challenge for Thor, as the “God” of Asgard finally may have met his match in battle.

The Cover, as you see, is so simplistic, as was Kirby’s signature trait, the colors are beautiful, and the sense of the fight and plight of Thor is evident in the single image.

Image

Uncanny X-Men number 45, 1968, Cover art by John Buscema

The next proud purchase is to date my absolute favorite. Uncanny X-men number 45, from 1968. This comic has two stories in the pages, both centering around Cyclops, “When Mutants Clash” is the story of Cyclops trying to free the rest of the X-men from captivity of Magneto, Toad and Quicksilver. One of the greatest lines ever told to the X-men which sums up the overall story between the evil and good in the comic books was spoken by Quicksilver to Cyclops in a battle that ensues when Cyclops stumbles into him trying to find Magneto in the stronghold.

Enough! I will listen to no more of your Homo sapiens-sympathizing blasphemy! You have had your chance to join us — and declined it! Therefore — I can consider you nothing but our enemy!”  -Quicksilver

The enemy, Magneto, has assembled mutants who want to eradicate the human presence from the planet, as he knows that they are afraid of the mutants and the powers they possess and want them eradicated from the planet as well. Having survived Auschwitz, and having his powers poked and prodded by the Nazi party, Magneto would rather kill every last human that make other mutants go through the same thing.

The cover is by John Buscema and shows a single sceen from the battle from the super fast Quicksilver (Think Marvel comics version of The Flash) and Cyclops, as he fired his ocular blast, just missing his opponent by mere inches.

These two comics are proudly displayed on the wall in my house, on my “Nerd Wall” to solidify myself into hunting and collecting these important comics from our past.

Being an american in Germany, and knowing that there has been a U.S. Army presence here in Schweinfurt since the end of the second world war, I know these comic books are out here, waiting to be rescued and collected by myself, and made available to the discerning collectors in the United States, or myself for my collection as well.

As time progresses I will update and share some of my collection with you all, for your pleasure, and if you have questions or have interest in one of the comics, please feel free to write me. I am open for all queries and thoughts.

To every one of you reading this.

Peace!

Lance Goolsby

“The Asylum” movie fan, and why I am


well, taking into account the sheer number of large budget action and adventure films being hosted on the big screen, many people seem to overlook the films made on modest budgets that are directed to the straight to video market.

I am a fan of these films. They are not my main forte, however they are sought after by myself quite often to help pass the time and providing a enjoyable and laughable evening at the television.

There are companies that release one or two films a year, and there are others that will pump them out at a rate that seems to be a dozen a year. All of these companies share a single belief though. they love film.

Some of the best companies to capitalize on the upcoming success are companies like, The Asylum

http://www.theasylum.cc/

They have found a way to make films, based on the premise of big budget blockbusters in the works, and release DVD’s to confuse most consumers in the DVD shop, as a modern example, type in Hansel & Gretel into iTunes and see what comes out. they have released their own version of the film. Thor also got their very own film, and sequel, Titanic was not spared and neither was Battle L.A.

Now what The Asylum does is also male new and original films with the profits from these knock-off films. one of the best is a film called Mega Shark V.S. Giant Octopus.

kinopoisk

This was a really badly acted romp into what was supposed to be a serious film. It is so campy it is laughable. but the weird thing not in a bad way. it is fun. the story is horrible. the effects horrible, the actors horrible. but, and I don’t know why, it works.

Most recently there was an instantly cult of a film released on SyFy and then shortly afterwards on DVD and iTunes. “Sharknado” followed a few hapless heroes as they try to survive and destroy a tornado ravaging downtown Los Angeles, more importantly the tornado was dumping hundreds if not thousands of sharks on the helpless citizens of the city, eating them without discrimination.

The plot was filled with more holes than ten thousand pounds of Swiss Cheese. The editing was shoddy, the special effects were horrible and there were plot points that were hit, and then were never followed up on.  Yet somehow throughout the film I remained laughing, and in suspense.

After having a 3 run showing on SyFy in July which had 1.8 million viewers the first night, the second showing increased by 38% and on the final showing the viewers were at 2.1 million. It was also released in 200 select theaters across the U.S. which every showing sold-out within minutes. This made Sharknado the highest viewed SyFy original film in their history. The Asylum and SyFy announced that a sequel will be made within a day after the third showing.

The second film will be called “Sharknado 2: The Second One” and will this time take place in New York City. It will be released on SyFy in July 2010.

There are many many films, not just by them, but other companies as well that all deserve looking into and enjoying, usually with a few beers.

However if you are new to the low budget film genre, than this is the place to start.

there are rules to low budget film watching though. so I will list them, so you don’t expect more than you will get, and you will get the most out of your viewing pleasure.

1: Never, ever, feed them after midnight…. Oops… wrong list… hold on, let me re-start

1: Never go into a low budget film expecting something great. Be weary that you will be watching bad acting, bad effects, bad filming and bad stories. once you understand this, then the film will be ok.

2: It is Ok to laugh at the film… they are meant to be serious, but often fail at it. expect them to be more like an action comedy.

3: popcorn and beer are a must. the more beer you drink, the better the film will be.

4: Never pick the film apart, just let it run… many times the plot is lost in the filming. What started out as one thing, may end up something completely different. this seems to be normal.so just let it ride, and your enjoyment will be better for it.

Once you can just let the film go, and enjoy a few laughs in the expense of the actors and crew, then you, like my wife and I, will really love watching the films.

We liked some so much, we actually own them on Blu-Ray now.

Hope you like this, and I will give you a few examples in the next few months.

Peace

Lance

Back in the saddle, finally


Well the time has flown by since my last post.

I am now a proud employee of a personnel company called GPS, and I have been contracted through them to a company working for the FAG ballbearing plant here in Schweinfurt, called Madinger.

I am more than excited to be working at one of the large factories here in town, and FAG (Look through the obvious name issue) is one of the largest. Sachs is larger, but I will not complain.

INA-+-FAG-logo-(cmyk)-[Converted]

The job involves the inspection of parts that are used in the manufacture and repair of cars, including Ford, Volvo, Volkswagen and Audi, and passenger aircraft engines from Rolls Royce.

There are so many different parts to the job, which is why I like it so much. I almost never know what I will be doing on the days until I get into the factory. Then I learn what I will be doing, or what I will be inspecting, or what I will be repairing. It is a truly amazing thing knowing that lives are in my hands. Maybe it seems trivial or small, but the smallest thing can cause catastrophic results without the proper attention to detail.

since most of the parts are created by machine, using 3 ton metal bars, we need to inspect every individual piece just in case a part is made using the end pieces, and pressed into form. this piece, if not found, when used in something like a flange for a car, could separate when the vehicle reaches high speeds, causing it to break apart, and the car to loose control from the excess wobble of the now damaged part. Now imagine what a bad part in an aircraft could do.

Pay wise, I will not complain. I can not complain. I am working, that is what matters to me the most. I would like to leave the personnel company, and go to work directly for Madinger. Where the pay would be slightly better, but the kicker for me would be the unlimited contract from them. That kind of security is something that I truly desire.

Well, I will let you all go.

thanks for reading my words of dim-whit. :)

Peace

Lance

Letting out some steam… Finally


Wow, how the days go by.

Been jobless now for around 6 months. Receiving unemployment now until the end of this month, May, and then getting nothing more from the government of Germany. This is not of my doing. I have been applying to any job that I have knowledge about or that may be open, also sending my resume to work at some of the factories in the city on the production line.

I sometimes think I am not getting any call backs for interviews based on my nationality.

I know that as a hard remark to say, but when you are sitting in my shoes, it sure feels that way. I am a pretty damn knowlegable person, pursuing all subjects that I have even a little knowledge in, and expanding my base of knowledge.

However it is not in the German way to hire people that know positions, they only hire people trained after school in the positions. I couldn’t be more sorry that I as an American was not trained in a job position, as the Germans are, in High school. I was a soldier. I am trained how to shoot other humans, out of spite from opposing government positions in matters that matter to them.

I was not taught graphic creation, or web graphic production, word, excel, after effects, or even how to paint paintings. These things, and many more I learned on my own, because I enjoy them.

.coverI took it upon myself to learn skills that I saw I was good at, and excited me so I could apply them into a real world position. Not for the money, but that is not bad, but out of the love for the creative process of it.

Oh well. So here I am writing chapter three of my new novel, The Face in the Falls. This is again something I like doing, so we will see if I can finally get myself a literary agent to back me up and get me published finally.

This was just a little steam to let out.

I have been purged,

Thanks for reading.

Peace.

Lance