AN OPEN LETTER TO AMERICANS WHO DON’T BELIEVE IN SCIENCE

theauthorrwfoster:

Good questions.

Originally posted on :

Dear Every American Who Doesn’t Believe in Science:

I know you are smart.  I know you care about your kids, your family, your pets.  I know you are a basically decent human being who wants to do right and contribute to society.  And because I know these things, I’m going to try very hard to understand why you refuse to believe in scientific fact, rather than berate you and call you names.

But I still really don’t get it.

GMO foodsI wish we could sit down and talk.  I wish I could explain my views without you getting defensive.  I wish you could show me your proof without the hair standing up on the back of my neck.  So I’ll admit – we both have a problem.  We both are talking to answer, not having a conversation to listen.

The funny thing is, I actually think I’m reasonably good at seeing…

View original 461 more words

Where I’ve Been

I want to say I’ve not posted here in a while because I’ve been writing, but that’s not 100% true. I mean, I have been writing, just not the whole time. I want to say it’s because my dad had a stroke, but that’s not 100% true either. He did have one, but that’s not the big reason.

To be honest with you folks, I’ve not been posting on my blog or writing like I should because I’m a procrastinator. Seriously, if there was an award for procrastination, I’d tell folks I was gonna send someone to pick it up for me, and then forget because something online caught my attention.

However, I think I may have it licked. I picked up a fan, somehow, who’s a complete stranger on Twitter, and she’s asked to see the rough draft of the sequel to my first novel. She’s promised to ask me every four days for a chapter update if I’ve not shared it with her.

What about the love of my life? She still inspires me and gets to read my work before anyone else, but her love for me makes her challenge me to do at least 1,000 words per day.

There we have it: Two challenges to get the procrastination kicked. If this doesn’t do it, I’m clearly not cut out to be a writer.

Winning Her Back Pt II

Part One is here.

He moved through the house, picking up odds and ends scattered all over the place. Pizza boxes, beer bottles and dirty clothes littered the floor. ‘Christ, I’m a fucking slob. Why didn’t I pay attention to Tammy before now?’ The trash went into the can while the clothes went in the hamper. Twenty minutes later, the house looked more presentable. ‘What else should I do?’ A glance across the bedroom revealed both hampers to be full of dirty laundry.

He emptied her hamper on the bed and sorted the articles into separate baskets. “Bloody hell, she has a lot of different clothes. How does she wear them all?” He sighed and carried the load of panties into the laundry room. After reading the tags, he placed them into the washing machine with the detergent and fabric softener and then started the cycle. The phone went off, reminding him that Tammy’s flight was due to land in two hours.

Brett strolled through the house, wondering how to best start the process of winning his wife back. The bathroom was where the idea hit him. He nodded to himself and strode to the garage. Several minutes of searching revealed the location of caulking and tile. ‘She’d like the idea of me turning the bathroom into a personal beach.’ Gathering the tiles, caulk, tape measure and wet saw, he placed them on his tool cart. Half-way across the garage, he stopped. ‘What if she hates the idea? That would be too many hours of work for nothing. I should check with her first.’ Sighing, he pushed the cart to the far wall and checked the time. ‘An hour left. Time to go.’

***

A tall redhead with a marathoner’s physique approached him. Her auburn tresses ignored her ponytail to fall over her forehead. She dragged a wheeled carry-on behind her. Another bag hung crossways over her body. Even looking exhausted from her trip, Tammy was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. ‘How long has it been since I told her that?’

“Hello, beautiful.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘That long? Damn. I really have slacked off.’ She then smiled. “Hello, Brett. How’re you?”

“Good.” He held his hand out. “Shall I take your luggage?”

She blinked a couple of times, and raised her eyebrow. “Sure.” After he slung the bag over his shoulder.
“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Offering to carry my bag.”

“Has it been so long since I did?”

“Four years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For not offering to carry my stuff?” She chuckled. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m a big girl.”

He looked over her body, taking in the hip hugging blue jeans and grey sweater which did nothing to conceal her C-cup breasts. “Girl? Not hardly, my love.”

She rolled her eyes and glanced away, but not fast enough to prevent him from seeing the pleased smile on her face. They reached his car and he opened her door for her. Ignoring her quizzical expression, he closed it behind her and put her bags in the trunk.

Sliding in and starting the car, Brett exited the parking area and headed to I-95. He glanced to his wife. “How was your trip?”

“Pretty boring, mainly.”

“Since when is negotiating boring for you?”

“That part was fun, as usual, but most of the trip was spent in my hotel room.”

“That sucks.”

“I know. I wish you could have come. You could use the vacation.”

“I’m telling Brianna I’m taking some time starting next week.”

“Really?” She turned to him. Light from the street lamps illuminated him in brief orange flashes. “Why is that?”

He looked over to her again. “To spend more time with you.” And then returned his attention to the road.

“Wow.” She glanced out the front window and then back to him. “Did you have a near death experience?”

“What? No.”

“Oh my god. Are you cheating on me?”

“The fuck?” He whipped his head around to focus on her. “Why would you ask such a stupid question, Tamara?”

“Those are the top two reasons for someone to suddenly start paying attention to their spouse after years of ignoring them.”

“That is why.”

“What? Because you’ve been ignoring me?”

“Yes.” He reached over to take his wife’s hand. “I didn’t realize I’d been ignoring you until recently.”

“Oh? What brought me to your attention again?”

He sighed but didn’t answer. Coming to their exit, he took the off ramp and five minutes later, turned into their driveway. She maintained the silence which had fallen after her question. He turned off the car and turned sideways in his seat.

Winning Her Back, pt 1

      Brett strolled into the tavern and took his customary seat at the far end of the bar near the bathrooms. Both of his favorite bartenders were on shift. Lacy, dressed as always in all black, stacked up a stretch of longnecks, and popped their tops in rapid succession. The crowd of guys near her cheered in appreciation.

     Steven strolled over and passed him a bottle of Bud without asking. He was an odd type: He dressed according to a theme. This week was TV cowboy.

      Pushing his white Stetson back, he said, “Howdy, pardner.”

     “Aw, you’re gonna talk like a cowpoke in addition to dressin’ like one?”

     “Heh heh heh. Naw.” Steven picked up a rag and wiped the surface. “How’ve you been, man?”

     “Not good.” Brett took a long pull of his drink. After wiping this lips, he set the bottle down. “I think Tammy is cheating on me.”

       “Yikes.” The bartender flipped the cloth over his shoulder. “Why do you think that?”

   “She’s more distant, spending most of her free time on the computer. She also recoils when I try to touch her.”

     “Ouch. That sucks.” He turned to the rack of liquor, grabbed the tequila and poured a couple of shots. “On me.”

     “I appreciate it.” Brett tossed back the alcohol and shuddered. It was harder than he was used to.

     “Have you caught her?”

   “What?” His brow wrinkled. “No. I’d have said I was divorced otherwise.”

     “Do you love her?”

     “Of course I do. She’s the light of my life. The literal, as well as figurative, woman of my dreams.”

     “Want some advice?”

     “Yes, please.”

     Someone yelled out.

     “One moment.” Steven strode up the bar and spoke to the guy who’d shouted.

     He pointed to Brett who stood to go to the restroom, allowing his coat to fall open, showing off the shoulder holster with the Sig Sauer 9mm, and most importantly, the gold detective’s shield clipped to his belt.

     A few minutes later, he reclaimed his seat and finished off his beer. Steven strolled over and handed him another. “Where were we?”

      “You’d just found out that I’d welcome some advice.”

      “Woo her.”

      “What?”

      “Woo your wife. Court her.” Lacy called for a whiskey sour, and he began to mix one. “Seduce  Tammy.”

     “How?”

     “Think back to how you won her over to begin with.” Steven took the drink to his partner and waited on some new people who’d come in. The place was getting crowded.

      Brett thought back to when he and Tammy were dating. There was laughter back then. A lot more than now. ‘When did we start to drift apart?’ He took another swig of Bud. ‘Why wasn’t I paying more attention to her?’

     Lacy sashayed over. “Hey, Handsome. Want another?”

     “Yeah, one more before I hit the road.”

     She retrieved the bottle from the ice and set it on the counter. Steven beckoned her to his end of the bar before she could say anything else. Brett glanced up at the television, not really seeing the baseball game.

     “You seem deep in thought.”

     Lacy’s sudden words surprised him. He turned from the screen to see her leaning on the bar, resting her chin on her palms. “I am.”

     “Penny for your thoughts?”

     “I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong in my marriage.”

     “May I make a suggestion?”

     His eyebrow went up. This was unusual. “Sure.”  She usually kept her thoughts to herself.

     “Don’t dwell on how, or where, you went wrong.”

     “What should I do, then?”

     “Well, I don’t know of any woman who doesn’t like flowers. If she goes on a trip, and comes back, greet her with a bouquet of her favorites.” Lacy straightened. “You do know her favorite flower, right?”

     “Of course I do.” He rose and fished out his wallet. Placing a fifty on the bar, he smiled. “She loves the wildflowers called Blanketflower and Blue Bell.” After adjusting his sport coat, he waved to his friends. “Keep the change.”

     The two thanked him as he headed out into the evening air. ‘Call a cab, or walk?’ A glance to the sky revealed a full moon with some fast-moving clouds. ‘Walk. It’s a beautiful night.’

     After a short hike, he stood in front of the thick oak door that marked his house. He unlocked the three deadbolts and stepped in. Once inside, he removed his jacket and shoulder holster, placing both within the closet.

Jennifer Steel, Agent of the F.S.I.A. Chapter 11

Rob paced the operations center. “Have you found her yet?”

Stevenson shook his head, “Negatory, sir. Give me a little more time. She’ll pop up on camera shortly.”

Rob sighed and resumed his pacing. The director walked into the center and watched for a few seconds. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as her mouth curved slightly upward. When he turned to her, the director immediately straightened her face, but he still saw the twinkle of merriment in her eyes. “Still wearing the carpet bare, Mr. Worthington?”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his rumpled hair. He scanned the room, eyes not staying on any object for longer than an instant. “Jennifer isn’t showing up on any of the cameras, Director.”

She nodded. “Ah. So, you are worried about Ms. Steel. Do you believe her to be incapable of surviving?”

Rob’s forehead wrinkled and his brow drew downward. “What? Of course I don’t believe that! She is my friend, though. Not only that, but the supernaturals weren’t supposed to be able to contact her yet.”

“Yes. You have made a good point, Mr. Worthington. In that case, why don’t you use your considerable tracking skills to locate Ms. Steel and bring her back?”

Rob’s eyes widened. “Are you certain? What about the test?”

“Under the circumstances, I think it would be permissible to name the test as null and go with your original recommendation that Ms. Steel join.”

Rob smiled and turned to hurry out of the Ops Center. The director allowed him to get almost out of the room, before stooping him. “Mr. Worthington?”

He poked in her back in, eyebrows raised. “Yes, Director?”

“Bring our friend back safely.”

“Indeed.”

 

Rob strode the warm brown hall to the armory. He wanted to be properly outfitted in case Lilith was in a bad mood. Carter tended to have that effect on her. Rob shook his head. He did not envy the Walker of Worlds. The man had the power to slay deities and freely travel between universes, but he also had the responsibility of watching over trillions of lives across the same. That’s way over my pay grade. But there had been a time when it hadn’t been. Flashes of a different world and a woman with silver eyes played in his mind’s eye before he pushed them away. ‘Anila,’ he thought before pushing that away as well.

Arriving at the armory door, he placed his hand on the cold palm reader and leaned forward. A small green light waved over his retina as a blue one did the same to his palm. A computerized voice stated that he was cleared to enter.

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he said.

As always, the computer did not respond. He grinned, thinking about what anyone would say upon hearing him talking to the computer. The heavy steel door slide up into a recess, allowing him entry. The backlit walls were lined with rows and rows of weapons. The rows closest to the doors were modern firearms from the Colt .25 pistol all the way up to the M72 light Anti-tank Weapon and FIM-92 Stinger missile system. Rob ignored them and headed further in. The next section held various martial arts and medieval weapons. He strode past bows, cross bows, javelins, swords and shields. Pole arms, blowguns and throwing weapons held no interest either.  Presently, he came to the very back of the armory. He stopped before a seemingly simple wooden door. This door however, was like the weapons within: magic.

Rob knocked three times on the door, paused, knocked twice more and waited. Soon a bright azure light played over his body. When it faded, the door swung open. A chill mist wafted from within. He shook his head. No matter how many dehumidifiers were placed inside, a mist always formed. He figured it must have been due to the magic being kept within.

The two-handed sword Glamdring hung on wall. Next to it were Icingdeath and the double-edged Blade of Evil’s Bane. On the opposite side of the room were the katana Tenseiga, the purple flesh covered broadsword Soul Edge and the mace Sharur. Gungnir, Mjolnir, Tonbogiri and the Runestaff hung from the ceiling. Rob strode past display cases holding the Sword of Truth, Mace of Cuthbert, Hammer of Kharas, the Dagger of Time, Soul Reaver and the Sword of Omens. He stopped before a dark wooden case in the shape of a pentagon. It had mystic symbols carved over the entirety of its surface. Despite this, it felt smooth and slightly slippery under his hand. He raised the lid and was hit with a wave of cold air. Rob ignored the arctic blast and fully raised the lid. He waved the vapor away impatiently and looked with reverence at what was within.

It was a blue crystalline bastard sword. The blade was a double fuller, lenticular design. The cross-guard was curved slightly towards the blade, the grip was of onyx and wrapped with golden wire in a chain link pattern, the pommel was a clear gem. Legend held that if this sword was used for evil, the gem would capture the wielder’s soul on his death. The sword rested on a bed of crushed red velvet next to its scabbard. The scabbard had been made by hand by Siddhārtha Gautama, the founder of Buddhism. He had made it from the wood of an Elder tree and wrapped in the skin of a Nukekubi, a vicious human-like monster whose head detached from its body. Legends didn’t say who created the actual sword.

It was the third most powerful weapon in the armory, yet it was his favorite. The crystal sword fit him like it had been made for his hand. He reverentially lifted the blade and held it up to the light. The harsh white light of the fluorescent tubes was softened and diffused by the azure blade. He smiled as he stared at it. It had been two years since he last held this weapon. As he exited the armory, he passed a large sword embedded in a block of granite. Looks like the director finished with Excalibur.

Jennifer Steel, Agent of the F.S.I.A. Chapter 10

Jennifer sat on the cold stone floor of the cave. Further in than she wanted to go, she could hear small animals scurrying around. The smoke from her bonfire kept larger animals away. The fire crackled and popped as she stared into the orange and white flames. The heat dried her eyes and made her cheeks prickle, but she didn’t want to move further back. She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to keep them moist. A cool wind swept into the cave and swirled the smoke into her face. She coughed hard, and spat excess saliva into the fire. After several minutes of staring into the fire, she yawned. Seconds later, she raised her arms out from her body in a stretch, closing her eyes as she yawned again. Her eyes heavy, her head began to sag forward. She jerked her head up, only to have it slide forward once more.  Soon, her head rested on her knees and gentle snores filled the air.

A large white wolf slunk over to the sleeping woman and sniffed her. It showed its teeth for a moment, lapped her cheek, then flopped down. The lupine rested its head on its paws, and watched the cave opening.

Jennifer Steel, Agent of the F.S.I.A. Chapter 9

Rob glanced at the carbon fiber face of his Black Seal MTM watch. Jennifer had been gone for over two hours. It was only supposed to take forty-five minutes. He sighed and looked at his friend. The blond woman smiled back and shook her head. “It’s too soon, Rob. You know the deadline is three hours,” she said in a cultured British accent.

“No one has ever taken that long!” He rubbed his forehead. He was developing a headache.

“You worry too much. You know she can do this. You wouldn’t have recruited her otherwise.”

“I worry too much? Have you forgotten about Mary?”

She shook her head, curls flying. “No. She was an aberration, remember. There was no way for you to know she was a half.”

A rumble of laughter came from the senior man. “Other than the nihilism, you mean?”

“Nietzsche was a human. Hard to get more nihilistic than him.”

“Okay. Fair point.”

A yellow light began pulsing. A second later, a small siren began to “wheep” softly. A young man hurried up. He carried a tablet computer in his hands and had a hands free communicator in his ear. “Mr. Worthington, we have a problem.”

“What is it, Mr. Stevenson?”

Stevenson swallowed hard. He hated to be the bearer of bad news. Especially the kind like this. “Um, the Walker of Worlds is there. He spoke with Ms. Steel and he knows she has his sword.” As he spoke, Stevenson sidled closer to the door. He didn’t want to be around when Rob blew up.

Rob sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He shook his head, and looked down at the floor. “Just what we don’t need. Now I have to go in.”

The blond woman touched his arm. “You do and she gets disqualified. Those are the rules.”

Rob sighed. “Damn it.” He looked up, but didn’t see the Ops tech. “Stevenson!” he barked.

The young man poked his head cautiously back into the room. “Yes, sir?”

“Give me a sitrep.”

He nodded and tapped the tablet a few times, then pushed his finger towards the 15 foot viewing screen to Rob’s left. Rob and the blond woman turned and watched Carter confront Lilith and Jennifer running off. Rob sighed again. He hated when things went off the rails like this.

“Alright. We will continue to wait. I recommend that we terminate the countdown under the circumstances.”

The blond woman nodded. “Agreed. Mr. Stevenson, make it so.”

The young man tilted his head and tapped again at the tablet. “Done, Director.”

Welcome to my rantings, ravings, and early looks at my Writings.

Feels and Reals

Of Facts and Feelings. But Mostly Facts.

Daddy Warpig's House of Geekery

Hardcore geekery for the hardcore geek. (And everybody else!)

wildcreativesoul

The "creator" in me

Violent metaphors

Thoughts from the intersection of science, pseudoscience, and conflict.

Skeptical Software Tools

Applying the power of the programmable web to the purposes of skepticism.

BOOK SHELF

"Tell me and I forget-Show me and I remember-Involve me and I learn"

Cool2BChrisP!

Welcome to my blog! Won't you stay awhile?

ellisnelson

children's author

Shannon A Thompson

You need the world, and the world needs good people.

CONFESSIONS OF A READAHOLIC

Every READER is a different person!

A Good Blog is Hard to Find

I will shatter a word and scatter the contents into the wind to share it with the world.

Miniskirts & Motorbikes

I am a woman. I am a rider. I am free.

RocketNews24

Bringing you yesterday's news from Japan and Asia, today.

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

Daily (w)rite

A Daily Ritual of Writing

bribruceproductions

writing/editing, publishing, photography & graphic design

All That's Written ...

Lucy Pireel - Author, reader, and blogger

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 469 other followers

%d bloggers like this: