Black Pearl Cluster

For years I have chased the elusive third Pearl of Blackness. For years I have commanded thousands of Hexics, moving them to my will and creating powerful patterns. The first Pearl, the first of the dark mysterious artifacts partly inherent in every Hexic, came to me in a vision: "Forge a Hexagon of Thirty-six Hexics thrice and be granted power to shake the very core of Hexilia."

Thirty-six Hexics, I wondered. How could a Hexagon be made with such a number? It defied maths and it defied the sacred ritual; six Hexics of the same spirit-colour banded together in a Hexagon around a lonely, different soul-colour. This caused a harmonic energy to cycle through the six and, in a dazzling display of light, all seven Hexics are fused into a Stars of Six Sides.

Six! For one Star of Six Sides I needed six Hexics in a Hexagon. If I did this six times, and no Stars connected in the forbidden patterns (to be lost in eternity), I would have used thirty-six Hexagons and would have six Stars of Six Sides. A hexagon of Stars of Six Sides - thirty-six Hexics in a Hexogon.

I knew it to be the true meaning of my vision, and thus I went forth and moved the Hexics. I was rewarded with a frightening object; an object darker than anything I had ever seen. It didn't shine bright like the Stars of Six Sides. It didn't have a colour like the Hexics; it was the absence of every soul-colour and at the same time it was all of them together. It lacked three sides. It was the very essence of Hexilia.

In my excitement I had forgotten the vision and declared myself victorious - truly my command of Hexila was unrivaled and complete.

But it wasn't so. A message tingled at my subconscious and I lost sleep. I would dream of strange things, nightmarish things: Stars merging in threes and fours; even five stars falling together and turning to getheral dust. The strange black object haunted me. It's three marks - placed on non-adjacent sides - glowed and spun. In my mind's eye it dominated every scene.

I began to descend into madness. Since that first dark object I had lost my will and my direction. Hexics merged and moved. Soul-colours blended and thrived and I couldn't fuse them. From my greatest height of achievement I had fallen over backwards into an abyss; the black abyss, made from the blackest object.

Hulic ex alic hipt a thir.

These words echoed in my mind and I understood not. But I traveled to the hills where I could seek wisdom and perhaps hide from the overbearing presence of the dark object. I couldn't outrun the blackness , but the hills gave me strength far from it; now I hungered for completion. I felt a fiery desire like nothing I had ever known.

My return was as glorious as my departure. I was half-driven mad and moving forward on a primitive and strange energy. I didn't know if it was mine or a being's more sinister.

Hulic ex alic hipt a thir.

Hexics once again moved and merged. I faded in and out of nightmares and consciosness. I didn't know who I was anymore, I just moved Hexics and fused them into Stars of Six Sides. I lost count of how many were lost to the getheral, but it didn't matter on the day I found the second dark object. By now I had started to call them Pearls of Blackness. They held the key, I knew that, but I didn't know what the key unlocked; power unrivaled or a void to Hexilia's demise. I had no idea how many I needed or what to do with them. Perhaps it was six; perhaps I needed thirty-six Stars of Six Sides in a Hexagon. Thirty-six stars, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six Hexics. Crah!

The vision came back to me in another nightmare: "Forge a Hexagon of Thirty-six Hexics thrice and be granted power to shake the very core of Hexilia."

Three.

I was one Pearl from ending this maddening journey, for better or worse I didn't care anymore. I wanted an end. It consumed me. My will wavered, but the two Pearls I had called forth imbued me with unreal energy. An energy unnatural that burned inside my being. My own soul-colour had long faded into a dull grey. I had stopped thriving on the moving of Hexics. No longer was it a satisfying ritual to fuel my being and, thus, Hexilia.

Dull darkness clouded every horizon. The hills in the distance where I had come back from were hidden by a shadow. Would the symbolic merging of three Pearls of Darkness be the promised power or the dark doom? Would I shake the core to its demise?

Could I? I could. Why... thirty-six Hexics in a Hexagon of Stars of Six sides thrice and the power... the power... would be mine. I had but one final Pearl of Darkness to summon.

Although my own essence was depleted, I began to utilize the power of the two Pearls I had invoked. They were joined now; I discovered their separation caused a rift that sucked the colour from a soul, as the Pearls sought each other out. Hungered for a trio.

I awoke on what I shall call the final night. Prepared myself with everything I had left inside and out of me. Every Hexic was my essence; every Star of Six Sides and, unnaturally, every powerful Pearl of Darkness.

"If not this, then never it will be," I told myself. Grey colour peeling away, black dots appearing.

A wind hummed in my ears, though nothing moved. All soul-colours mingled in the air and gravitated towards the two black voids connected by their glowing shards. The stillness was like a collapsing sky, heavy and foreboding. I felt the Hexics in my mind, and felt them move to my will in a final dance. It was as if they spoke, in whispers, of their great puzzle.

Hours passed and not a sound escaped my lips. I had to squint my eyes to conserve energy. As the Stars formed and moved together in a Hexagon, the mix of colours in the grey mist was almost beautiful to gaze upon. I felt tired. Content. But not finished.

The final Star of Six Sides came to be and, in an exhaustive effort, I moved it to the others, finishing the Hexagon, and moaned as the third Pearl of Darkness appeared. Its dark, voiding energy, sucking the last colours from the world. I fell to my knees, at the limit of my essence, and closed my eyes. The two Pearls together created a powerful attraction to their third as all three attempted to connect.

I felt three red Hexics call to me and I moved them together. They merged and the Pearl of Darkness fell into their space, closer to the pair. Close enough now.

On hands and knees and willed two more Hexics - I felt them faint and weak, but together strong enough - to move the voidious Pearl to the others. With them so close, their dark energy was localised and the draining was less powerful.

I collapased before they connected, but then rose to kneel once they hit. The world rumbled and a blazing light shot in all directions. I was blinded for those few seconds. Knocked backwards by the burst of energy and shaken by the rumbling. Every soul-colour flowed like a river through the air and fused itself with me. I was lifted high into the sky and felt the Hexics fade away. The Pearls of Darkness expanded as the colours poured out and the world shook and I was filled with the most powerful energy ever felt.

Moments later I exploded in colours and the grey, rumbling world was filled with it. For those seconds I understood the true meaning of beauty. Then I fell.

I fell the full distance I had been lifted. Into the black void that swallowed me and disappeared. I do not know what happened inside that dark place, but I did awaken later. To a different world. I felt light and full of... power.

I wasn't confused. Knew it was the Pearls fused with my essence. I was everything Hexilia was. Powerful, all-being. I understood, even as I looked to a tree and noticed it wasn't jaggered or straight-edged, but rather curved and round. I understood the change.

Now the world is round once more.

I am Hexulu, Champion of Hexic and Lord of Hexilia.



- G .|

Thirty-six Hexics in a Hexagon thrice
Six Star of Six Sides in a Hexagon thrice,
Black Pearl Cluster the world a-tumblin' down
Awaken to circles and curves
Ah, but the power you've earned
O Lord Hexulu

fish in the sea

We've all, at one stage, been part of a big business. It might have been a franchise chain, or a full-fledged conglomerate. You know, the kind of behemoth company that owns everything and anything, related or not, and the unwary consumer doesn't realise that their preference for one brand over another (and the subsequent arguing for it) is meaningless, since both brands are owned by the same company.

That is why it makes sense to have certain hierarchies in large companies. It's obvious that a small group of boardroom-dwelling obese men don't know much about any of the products any of their brands sell. They just make the big important decisions: "Is it time for a payrise?"

The other decisions are delegated down a chain, which comes to an abrupt stop at what is affectionately known as "store level." Most chains are something like this, but I've taken the liberty of modifying it to meet Modern Cynic Standards (MCS).


As you can see, "Peons" take up the largest area. This is because there are more of them than any other type in the organizational chain. As with any majority, they are favoured the least, ignored and misunderstood. For large business to shine, it is minority rule.

That's right: The decisions have to be made by small groups, who are elected by larger groups, all of whom are equally greedy. You may notice there is no Quality Control in there anyway. Some companies may have it, but in general it's a waste of resources. It doesn't matter what's made or how good it is, as long as it sells. See, by time it reaches the boardroom it's just part of a ridiculous figure; it works like a giant filter where everything impure and lumpy is sifted until it becomes money.

As a "Peon," you might know more about the store and the products and what policies are illogical, but it doesn't matter, because at the top somewhere, someone earning more than you decided it was a good idea without testing to see if it was, in fact, a good idea. Thus, big changes that make no sense or are impractical occur and are expected to be implemented, despite the obvious lack of practicality.

On the flipside -this is where it gets a little amusing - when the minority groups attempt to make contact with the majority, they are met with cynicism and snarls. The reason is because the attempts at contact are limited, brief and infrequent. Distance between shit-kickers and the board may as well be the distance from Earth to Neptune; where it's cold and lifeless, save for pockets of money.

As a result, when the surveys are sent around (because human contact is considered dangerous), nobody cares anymore and, thanks to years of neglect, nobody believes anything worthwhile will come of it. Not to mention the simple fact small fish like to pick on much larger fish.

Now that the very basics of peon versus rich moron have been covered, let us conclude: The entire chain is simply a series of assholes compounding on each other until the abrupt end at store level where the Manager, on top of being the biggest asshole, becomes the most hated, since he is the closest and easiest to hate.

- G ζ.

I've got a monkey on my back
And I just can't shake it
"Give it a banana!"
But the monkey won't go away

flag fall

The front page of yesterday's paper featured an amazing feat in Australia sports: The socceroos (soccer team, obviously) beat Qatar in a crushing 3-0 game.

Wait... Qatar? That's a country with a world-class soccer team?

Not to say the socceroos are awe-inspiring, being a mostly European-based team with a foreign coach. I don't think any part of the team is even Australian. Apparently we can't play soccer, although we did qualify for something in the last World Cup - made it to an actual game or two outside the qualifying rounds. Woo! (?)

Anyway, I did some extensive research and discovered that Qatar is a little country attached to Saudi Arabia like a tumor growth. It looks as if it was an after thought - maybe the Earth, when it decided to shift continents around, had some spare pieces doing nothing and figured a game of pin the country on the other country was needed.

It's an interesting country: Most of the locations (cities, I imagine) have names that start with "Al" and even includes places called "Umm Bab" and "Umm Said." No joke. I can imagine conversations between travelers who got lost and ended up in Qatar (because, you know, you wouldn't plan to be there. Unless there was a soccer game on).

Traveler1: How the fuck did we end up in Qatar?
Traveler2: Umm No Idea
Traveler: Well, Al Just Find n Airport
Traveler3: Ar Good Idea!

I apologise for that terribly terrible joke. Unless you laughed, in which case: Shame on you (you are awesome).

Now check out their flag.

It's white and maroon with some "teeth" connecting the two colours in a mind-bending display of creativity. Okay, so flags aren't usually the canvas for Da Vinci-like art, but you have to at least try. You know, add symbols to identify and capture the jist of your nation (or make you remember who owns you) or something.

Here's an actual description of the flag (from the site linked above):

"The flag of Qatar was officially adopted in 1949.

The story goes that Qatar's original flag used an unstable red dye, and the relentless sun faded that red into a shade of maroon, and that color is referred to today as Qatar Maroon. The toothy edge between the maroon and white fields, and the flag's width, helps to identify it from that of Bahrain's flag, a Gulf State's country that it was formerly associated with."

It became official after WWII. I wonder if the country has a military...

So, the story is that someone dyed the original flag with "unstable red dye" and the "relentless" sun turned it into maroon. No, Qatar maroon. Ugh. That reminds me of the ridiculous names they have for colours everywhere. Tulip red. Funky pink. Some other noun/adjective/verb + colour.

And the toothy edge is, get this, to distinguish it from Bahrain's flag. Apparently Bahrain had the same trouble with unstable red dye. Is their maroon called Bahrain maroon?
At least we'll have no trouble identifying which flag belongs to which country, thanks to the unique and clever use of zig zags!

It's like Qatar is saying "Gulf State? Ha! We don't associate with them anymore. Zig zags, bitches!"
Or maybe al bitches.

Remember I'm also making fun of Australia here (the soccer team at least) - we had a crushing victory over Qatar, a country with its own version of maroon and no longer part of the Gulf State. Apparently that's reason to declare awesomeness. Is Qatar laughing, because they only lost by three goals?

I'm sorry to make fun of you Qatar; you're not the only country with a boring flag. You just made headlines and appear to be an after thought attached to Saudi Arabia (at least women can legally drive in Qatar). And I guess you have some potential.

Speaking of flags, what's up with flags for races of people - or do only indigenous Australians have one? I thought about it today. Doesn't make sense. A flag to represent a race of people. Isn't that a bit exclusive and contradicting the whole "equality" thing? I mean, you can't ever consider it your flag unless you are part of the race who it represents. In the case of Australia's Aboriginal Flag it is red, black and yellow. The black is above the red (important) and the yellow is a circle in the middle. It means: black people walk the land and the sun is all-reviving.

So, like, the white version could be the same, except the top colour would be white. But that somehow wouldn't have the same, nod-inducing meaning. Yeah, that's so true to the spirit of indigenous people. Such culture!

Oh noes, racism!

Anyway, Qatar lost to the European Australian soccer team.


- G ζ.

Represent, represent
Your people must be recognised
As an entity of equal
But for all their sins
You must repent

careering

What do you want to be when you grow up?

It's the question, apparently, that is important when you are not grown up. And talk about pressure! What does a pre-teen, or even a teenager know about what they want to be when they grow up? Sure, they have an idea - one that they believe, in their starry-eyed vision, is a simple matter of choosing. Some common choices are:

Doctor
Fireman (come on, seriously now)
Police officer
Sports champion

I never understood the allure to some of these careers. I'm not one to shoot down such ideas because, you know, sometimes these kids do actually go on to be what they said they were going to be, but the time for proof is too far down the track. I wouldn't be the one to say, "I told you so!" if they didn't do it, or "Well, gee, you sure showed me!" if they did. That kind of gamble is too long in the making. My incredible memory would forget the whole thing anyway.

Now, being a doctor isn't as glorious as it might seem to someone young enough to still enjoy Christmas for Santa (doctor also sounds important). You see, there's a long, long road to travel and it's full of textbooks and things like "study." Added to that, surviving the same amount of years as you were aged when you decided you wanted to be a doctor grants you the incredible of honor of being a walking lawsuit. You don't have the respect of earlier doctors, because in modern times everyone is apparently a medical professional and has these bizarre rights that let them be complete tools about, oh, anything. But at least you get the opportunity to save lives, right? Sure, why not. I suppose that fits in somewhere.

A fireman is a little less tedious and much less prone to lawsuits. Nobody can complain much when you've just stopped their house/tent from burning down and dragged their arses out of it. Well, I suppose they could complain if it was their workplace or school. That doesn't mean you won't be sued for something ridiculous. People can be irrational when it comes to disaster. Best to suck it up and be content knowing that you get to work with fire, and that's awesome. Failing that, if you suspect the person you're rescuing is likely to sue, don't drag them out and let the fire burn a little longer. It may sound as if I'm leaning more towards this as a career, but I'm actually not. It might appear fun to be involved with the big red truck, the suits, the super-powered hose and the alluring fires, but it's not. You're probably never not on call and you could burn to death at any moment. Even while sleeping. Fire finds a way.

Police Officers attract kids with guns, batons and authority. I know I planned on being a cop once, because the idea of it seemed pretty okay to my buddy and I. Then I discovered the internet and that, like most things, faded away. The problem with reality is that it introduces things like paperwork, policies, laws and procedures. As a law-enforcer you don't technically fight crime, you kind of just stare at it menacingly and will it to surrender. If it doesn't and you need to take action, you have to write a journal about it, then fill some more paperwork out and justify why you did something crazy like defend yourself/the people around you. Still not convinced this is the right choice for you? Nobody respects cops. They, like any employee, do their jobs. Apparently if you break the law (eg. you went over the speed limit), you have a right to complain with your buddies that it's all just a money-grabbing scheme. Because, you know, you shouldn't be punished for doing something that is considered punishable and that everyone knows about. On the amazing flip side, if you are cop and don't have the ability to sense danger and teleport to its exact location in the time it takes someone to get bashed, you are a failure and waste of resources.

The final career I mentioned is a bit generic: Sports' champion. It's a broad category and we've all, at one stage, probably decided we want to be famous. Sports seems the most reasonable pursuit of such fame. It seems good, but what you really end up doing is selling your soul to training and sponsors - Training because you have to be at your peak all the time, sponsors because money makes the world go around, even for someone jumping into a pit full of sand or chasing a ball around. You're also vulnerable to scrutiny if you are extremely good at what you do. I'm talking about the kind of scrutiny that create its own scandals. It searches so hard for something to make you look like a cheater/drug addict that illegal substances just appear in your blood and/or apartment. Right?

Once you grow up, the question turns to "What do you want to do with your life?" and usually involves earning money in less obvious ways. Maybe you want a small business selling shirts. Or maybe you're a teacher asking kids what they want to be when they grow up, knowing how you went from choosing a doctor to being a teacher. It takes you around 12 years to even get to the point of being able to pursue your career. It's like throwing someone onto a street full of distractions, crime and traffic and poor signage and expecting them to reach the place they wanted to go to. Maybe specialised schools should be introduced so you don't waste so much time learning general nonsense (like Shakespeare, come on. It's not relevant now, talented as he was in his era) that is forgotten the moment you enter the next level of education. It's all an illogical street that doesn't make sense.

It's fair enough to read this and think of me as an anti-every career guy. You'd be right, but also wrong. It's not so much the careers that make me twitch and want to say, "Good luck with that!" It's more the people who aren't what you are that make it a tiresome, frustrating and violence-inducing scenario.

For careers to be as awesome as they used to be, people's rights need to be disappear or be culled severely. I am serious. This is a serious comment. Maybe. Either way, rights are ruining just about everything. From teaching to healing to rescuing; it's all limited by the fear of being sued. And it can be for the most ridiculous thing. You've all read and heard stories about it - "Such and such sued for not being sued enough in the last year."

Talk about a cramp in progression. Actually, talk about a cramp in everything. Give any idiot the ability to gain money or power through some retarded fine print that nobody is supposed to read and we're going backwards. Excellence isn't even awarded anymore, because somebody might get upset, since they're almost always "disadvantaged."

Personal responsibility has been buried deep underground, chains and all. It's always someone or something that is to be blamed.

Racism is the most ridiculously over-used trump card. Arrested for breaking the law? Call it racism if you're anything but white. Not hired because you didn't have the right qualifications? Racism. Prejudice falls into the same area. But believe me, nobody knows prejudice like the white, married male.

I just want to know what the deal is behind giving everyone the ability to do something stupid, escape it through a mind-boggling court system and then blame something/someone else. And also, what the deal is with rights anyway. It's gone way too far now. I don't want or need so many rights, and if I do something wrong it's not going to be anyone's fault but my own.

I demand that the response to every lawsuit, complaint, cry of prejudice and anything else exaggerated, unnecessary and stupid to be: "Big fucking deal."

And maybe they get a shirt that labels them as rights abusers, cry-babies or something. See how they like that label (it's funny, actually, since most labels are given to so-called minorities by themselves and then used against everyone else).

Someone needs to go early-era iron fist on this stuff.

- G ζ.

Give the people what they want
And it's not good enough; they want more
Deny the people what they want
And eventually they'll want something else
The latter is best because it prevents greed,
Expectations and bloated rights
Too late for us, we're in the former