So, so you think you can tell
Heaven form Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here...




*nods to monsieurs Waters and Gilmour

Ok. Power's back on.

I can hear the spooling up of the ship's engines, whirring up to operational speed and to that pitch where it blends into the background where you don't take note of it and just take it for granted that all is operating as it should.

It's warmer now. Still can't see anything inside my head. Everything is soft and blurry and pink. It's like womb-vision or something. Feel a teensy bit more like myself, so we're ok for now.

I know and feel that the great ones still stirr below, but it doesn't frighten me or crush me anymore. All or almost all is as it should be. Through good deeds and bad we strengthen and solidify our gods and demons. But more than good or evil, there is one energy in endless, surging abundance. And that is beautiful horrible gibbering laughing giant pointy toothed madness in all the colours of the rainbow and more. Cold, heat, terror, joy. Staring into the vortex of infinite power and possibility. This much I can see. THEY'RE AWAKE and it doesn't just make me scared. It makes me every emotion at once, seeing all of time as one single, eternal moment. Every point in space as one point, spread out subconsciously by the simple collective imagination to help them make sense of it.

I see it all as ONE. And I know it is TRUTH. I feel it coursing through me. The power. All warning lights and sirens glowing and blaring like it's the end of the world. But I know it isn't. There is no such thing and I embrace the ONE. Dreams, light, dark, perception as fragile and beautiful as shapes in smoke.

I SAW A FOX tonight. An honest to goodness living, breathing fox. I was walking through the back alley on my way home. I live in the city by the way. It was snowing, like fairy tale snow. Big white flakes against black sky, and there it was. It was walking towards me, at first I thought it was a cat, a big cat. But as it approached I saw that it was indeed a fox. I know foxes. A healthy, non-rabid fox, golden fur with dark limbs. It slowed as we neared it each other and it looked at me before passing beside me, no further than 3 feet away before looking back at me and scampering away into the night. It made me smile. If something like this can happen, it shows me that I'm on the right path, again reaffirms my KNOWLEDGE that fantastical can and does exist in a world of mundanes and their mugglish world is indeed the wool they have pulled over their own eyes...

A good omen indeed.

Darkness.

Most of the time I know exactly who I am and what I look like even if the world is stupid and blind and doesn't see shit.

Other times it's like someone's pulled the cable from the wall and blackness and silence hit like right after the flash and boom of lightning and thunder. Ringing in my ears from the sound and now lack of it. The silence is thick. Only the thumping of my heart. Ominous for whatever sounds it might/could be blocking out. Scraping? Scratching? Moans of pain and fear... No. There's nothing there. Not sure if that's worse.

The mirrors of my mind's eye like black, oily glass. I must find my reflection again... Where's my bloody reflection? My avatar isn't loading. No, not that one. The real one.

Cold... sinking... deep into darkness. Can't see but I know tentacles the size of redwoods roil and move in the crushing black depths. Great, impossibly ancient things suck heat and sanity alike. I want to laugh or cry or scream, just so I can hear something, hear it echo off... anything... I feel it all coalescing like ice on my chest and I know it can see me. I know it knows I'm there. It's taking everything, swallowing it whole and getting stronger. Its eyes are open.

I can't seem to draw anymore. It's been years. Those bits of my brain are missing somehow. Vision seems to be going too. I can't see as well close up as I used to. At first it was just the myopia. Physical pain hasn't registered for ages. Senses failing as I fall into the blackhole of my own mind.

There should be light here. Who turned off the lights? I could see just a moment ago... I can't see me...

It has been my observance that there is a brilliant wit and wisdom in honest laughter, having fun and enjoying the little things in life that is lacking in the somber minds of "intellectuals" looking at "the big picture". That is because they don't realize they are seeing the world upside down.

The Little Engine That Could reached victory through baby steps. The next gear in that mental drivetrain to success is "I know I can. I know I can."

Some might say that self gratification, the seeking of joy for joy's sake is selfish and doesn't help the world. Bullocks I say. It is the very key to saving it.

If we remain conscious of our connection to the world and every living and non-living thing in it when we attain joy, we unlock a great secret, and that secret is just how little energy it takes to help people when we are happy, whether it be to bring a smile to their faces, make them laugh, help them carry their groceries, aid them in time of need... In enlightened states we become attuned to the knowledge of our infinite power, not only to help ourselves but improve every iota of matter and energy in the Universe.

When we are feeling down, feeling afraid, full of worry, stress and doubt, that's when we pull in. Afraid that energy, thoughts and deeds aimed at helping others might be lacking when we most need it for ourselves. That last bit of fuel to get you to safety, those last few inches of rope to pull you out of trouble. Tragic black comedy the holding back of infinite power for ignorance of having it. Its evidence is all around us in subtle and not so subtle hints. The silver linings of clouds, a small but determined flower growing up from the cracks in the pavement. Power all around us. In us.

Think of the truly awesome and amazing things that humankind.. nay, humans.. no, just downright people have achieved throughout the ages because they believed in their power, in themselves and their ideas, bolstered by like minded masses or even sometimes not depending on the strength of their own belief.

Resonant frequency is the key. When you feel it, you will know you are on the right path. It will make you smile. But you have to make noise, you have to sing the music of your lives through your actions and words and seek the harmonics that will unlock inifinity of power and possibility.

K.

SHAME ON YOU WizKids! SHAME ON YOU Microsoft!

Yes, FASA is dead and gone and so it seems their fantastic, fun and brilliant game world of fast planes, big guns and sexy dames has perished along with it Where will I get my dose of swashbuckling aerial adventure in an alternate history where everything is bigger than life? It looks like nowhere these days...

WizKids bought the rights to the board game element and came out with a CLIX-style version of the original content and LET IT DIE. When I contacted them to ask them what they had in mind for the franchise, I was told: "Um.. well we've already done it haven't we? We have ABSOLUTELY NO IMAGINATION and can't possibly think of anything new and original ourselves beyond figuring out how to CLIX-ify existing content."

I'm probably letting my bitterness flavour the paraphrasing I'm applying in the retelling of their response, but you get the idea Gone are the days where you could design your own planes and their pilots, roll up their stats, paint up the miniatures and have at it! Nope, now it's all about the money. You play what we sell you, you want more? You buy more! And we can't even do that anymore. Once you've bought it all, that's it. Notice that there are NO MORE Crimson Skies fans sites out there anymore? No more community sites? Why do you think that is? The imagination was sucked right out of the equation... With Magic The Gathering at least the creators got to flex their creative muscles a bit, but I swear, having witnessed the game's explosive coming into being and what Magic cards still sell for to this day, I'm sure they're LAUGHING THEIR WAY TO THE BANK. Maybe some of them have even died laughing? Who's to say? I would have I'm sure.

Microsoft's treatment of the franchise was almost just as bad. The original computer game was A BLAST! Despite its initial bugs and the fact that you couldn't really design your own planes from scratch (so much for the modding community on that one!), you could still soup up, mod and choose your colours before taking to the skies in a game with brilliant missions, attention to detail, fantastic music, voice acting and game play. People used to have fansites to proclaim the skill of their squadrons and fly their colours with pride.

The sequel: High Road To Revenge promised improved graphics, downloadable map packs and new planes... and you know what they did? Do you know what they told the CS fans of the PC community that had rallied around Crimson Skies and loved it (as they still secretly do)? They said SCREW YOU. YOU NEED TO BUY AN X-BOX TO PLAY IT.

Ok. In a world driven by marketing where in some places, people who have no food and no shelter have cellphones because they've been led to believe they can't live without tech bling, I suppose this tactic works if ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS $. Big flash bucks, hang 'em high and damn the returning customers... The game was fun, I can't deny that, the graphics were gorgeous, but they turned the bloody thing into an arcade game, even more than the original I mean power-ups! Really!

Ugh. Jordan Weisman, Dave McCoy, those who love the world of Crimson Skies that you created WEEP at what's happened to it in your absence. I sometimes go through my gaming notes and find an old FASA CS plane sheet, either victorious from a battle with a bit of battle scars to give it character or downright cored (like an apple) from a spectacular battle and I remember how much fun we used to have. The wave of nostalgia is strong, as are the sense of loss and fury of the game's demise... the type of thing that makes me write rants like this.

If it wasn't for my very good friend JystDave ramping up to running the gang through a roleplaying campaign set in the world of CS, I'd be sadder than I am. We'll have a blast I'm sure and I'm getting really psyched for it. I'm sure we'll do the spirit of Jordan Weisman and Dave McCoy's creation proud.

Not much in the way of thanks to WizKids and Microsoft I can tell you... Not any more anyway.

Kitty