Only Love Posted on September 10, 2014 by Billy Ray Chitwood


                                                                                       Only Love

Love is a word that is loosely thrown around in our world today…guess that’s okay because it is difficult to see how the word can be used in a pejorative way unless someone is using it like a gun or knife in a psychopathic or sociopathic way.

We take for granted comments like, “I love the way that movie played out!” or “I love this book!” or “I love this juicy apple!” or “I love football!” We all get the connotation when ‘love’ is invoked in this way. Very few among us would disagree that love is a most special word, a short formation of letters that goes a long way in expressing our innermost emotions for a human being, a pet, or…

Love as a noun occupies a much loftier position than the verb, in my most humble opinion. The word is in many ways sacrosanct – sacred and on the same plane as faith. “The love of God” generally conveys “faith in God” and becomes juxtaposed with our souls and theology. We can wish as a nation and as a world that this love was more encompassing and endearing.

Of course, the most emotional, exciting, exhilarating, and physically orgasmic is the love between a man and a woman, yet, not exclusively, as our world assuredly now knows of ‘same sex’ harmonious relationships. With no wish to alienate or doubt its verity and because I am most definitely hetero, I confine these comments to ‘man/woman’.

I have known those exquisite moments of love when a kiss launches me into a mad swirl of feverish passion, when all senses are focused on but one space in time, on a delirious and delicious hunger. I have known those moments when love is not with me, when I sit alone, feel the pangs of loneliness, write my lines of dubious poetry to the one who occupies my heart and mind. I have known those moments when love is threatened by insecurity and jealousy, when doubt finally leaves and I drink once more from the sweet chalice of love’s reuniting. I have alas known love’s withdrawal and the long weeks and months of despair, only to find again another coupling of hearts.

Love both blinds and gives us light. Love is one journey or it is many, and those who know of what I speak well know that, true to that soaring pursuit, it will ultimately come to spend a lifetime with us.

Love and Faith can bring gentle measures of equanimity and peace to a wayward heart and soul.

Though we can use love as our verbs, my preference is the noun. As with Faith, without love, we can be lost.

NOW, why have I briefly written about love and faith?

Two reasons, the first, innocuous enough, I hope…I simply wanted to write about love and faithbecause they have been so much a part of my life – superfluously, among other abstract notions. The second, rather selfish, I’m afraid… You see, I have written a romance novel which is not the typical romance novel. It has love, faith, of course, and it also has murder, mystery, and suspense.

The novel is called, Butterflies and Jellybeans – A Love Story. Don’t let the title fool you. It is my belief that ‘romance’ readers will find it to their liking – at least, that is my hope. I have shared my internet marketing ineptness in previous posts, and it’s my feeling this book should sell very well…hopefully, you will prove me right. If you do read Butterflies and Jellybeans, please tell a friend about it and/or write a review on Amazon.

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Decisions, Decisions! 
Posted on April 18, 2014 by billyraychitwood


                                         Decisions, Decisions!

Chocolate or Vanilla? Baked potatoes or French Fries? Movie out or Television at home? Go or stay? Read or Write?

Decisions, Decisions!

At times, family and individual decisions are made with ease and nonchalance, simple no-brainer reflexes. These are generally minor decisions quickly acceptable to those concerned. Other decisions, major in their circumstance and consequence, can affect family, friends, neighborhoods, even, nations. The latter encompasses decisions made by leaders and representatives we choose to run our country’s affairs.

History shows us decisions made by world leaders that have meant death for millions of people, created dysfunctional economies, and scarred the souls of so many. As a bewildered child I saw the reflections of Pearl Harbor and World War Two on the faces and in the actions of my broken family. Later I served in the Korean War, became acutely aware of despicable despots and their greedy and selfish decisions that destroyed so many lives and indelibly stamped the ugly memories into millions of minds. Vietnam and all of its horrific death scenes marked another period where insanity ruled, where our young and promising men and women returned to their homes damaged by the atrocities they had seen and of which they had been a part.

Decisions, Decisions!

‘9/11’ happened and the United States felt the incipient scourge of radical Islamic Terrorism on its homeland. The US was stunned and also fully awake to another assault on its great land of opportunity, freedom, and liberty. The entire fabric of our ruling document, The Constitution, was also under assault. The founding fathers wove a delicate and precise fabric based on Judeo-Christian principles, delineating powers within our governing body – the Executive Branch, The Legislative Branch, and the Judicial Branch – laying out carefully crafted amendments, including the Bill of Rights. Most among us, scholars and citizenry, believe this document is the very best vision for governing and for the rule of law among a civilized society.

Now, many Conservatives see our current Liberal-ruling government in majority control of both the Executive and The Legislative Branch moving with a secular progressive tide toward a nebulous system that has all the earmarks of Socialism. When a one-party administration builds a constituency on a platform of entitlements and promises, when one party pits class against class and falsely uses race allegations, when one party takes away an individual’s freedom of choice, when one party doles out welfare checks that de-incentivizes people to work, when one party builds a healthcare behemoth that strangles the economy and is but another long stretch of bureaucratic pavement on the road to a ‘strange new world’, when one party creates more regulations and taxes to stifle job growth and entrepreneurs’ business ventures and investments, when one party’s leader promises and does not deliver transparency and solutions to IRS one-sided meddling, eavesdropping, and Benghazi, THEN the framework of our democracy begins seriously to dismantle.

Decision, Decisions!

Change is good! Change should come with the blessing of history’s lessons. Why is it that we can resent so easily the wealthy among us? It is generally those folks who provide jobs for the needy and it is those who pay the major share of taxes so government can hopefully keep us safe, the school doors open, and the pork barrels filled to the rim. Why are we so blithely misled into believing that we should all be equal in all things? Certainly, we are born with equal rights and the opportunities to go as far as our ambition, our intelligence, and the fire in our bellies will take us. Why is it that some of our government leaders eschew their responsibility of truth to the people who hired them? The people we elect work for us, not the other way around. May I repeat that? The people we elect work for us, not the other way around.

So, here I sit, trying to make some sense of our nation’s not so subtle moves toward mediocrity. This I do know: the United States is the greatest nation on earth, the most charitable, the most virtuous, and the most diverse. We are a nation of immigrants, and it is right that we expect all who come to our cities and states to assimilate, learn our language, become Americans, and accept our democratic ideals. To live in freedom and liberty does attach some responsibility to our diverse people. Otherwise, denying our heritage and moving away from those things that have made America great, we move toward division and anarchy.

Yes, I am old and used up, but I care about the direction my country will take in the years ahead. I love my wife, our children, and want the best for them. I am not a man of great wealth, except for the wealth of family and friends, and I do not envy or resent the rich – the vast majority work hard for what they have, provide jobs for many, and give generously to the charities of their choice. I bear no racial hatred as I accept an individual for her/his character and principles. I know that, with each generation, there comes change…my only wish is that the change is based on the pages of history, the lessons we have learned.

I want an honest government that only hides from me that which I should not know for national security’s sake. I want no intrusive government. I want a government that provides a safety net for the elderly, the handicapped, those who truly need the help…we have that safety net and it could be that we need to do more in some areas. I want a fair and sensible immigration plan…secure borders…a plausible timeline for citizenship…illegals must register within six months…workplaces must register illegal workers…no work, no stay in country…seasonal work programs…must assimilate and learn English…do crime, deportation…no welfare until citizenship achieved. I want parents to have choices in sending their children to school. I want the strongest military in the world to preclude any country or any faction from considering a conflict against us.

Decisions, Decisions!

Some decisions can lead to severe conflicts. We want leaders who have war and work experiences. Leaders make decisions based on many factors. Most decisions should be common sense and for the good of the majority. History’s lessons should be a guiding force in all major decision making…causes/effects for the fall of Rome…causes/effects for Hitler’s Germany…causes/effects of Stalinist Russia… History’s lessons!

My humble suggestion is that we do not currently have the right leadership in our country. November, 2014, is an important election time – as is November 2016. We have heard the promises and half-truths of this administration. Do we not all want our freedom and liberty intact without false rhetoric that sounds so eloquent and hopeful but is empty and void of performance?

Yes, our nation is changing, seemingly moving away from those ideals and principles that made us the land of the free and the home of the brave. Arrogant atheists who form their ‘anti-christian’ groups can now post a banner in the Capitol Building in Madison, Wisconsin which reads: ‘Nobody died for our sins,’ Jesus Christ is a myth.’ We live in a great country that allows free speech so that is their right, their right on Christian occasions, Easter, Christmas, to make their pronouncements. Why is it that these secular progressive thinkers of such ‘supreme thought’ hate so many of our Christian faith? Why do they not turn their venom toward radical Islam extremists? Do they fear that their heads might be chopped off? They likely know that Christians turn the other cheek.

Okay, maybe I say too much. Maybe I anger too many with this kind of honest thought. Yet, it is what my mind and heart speaks to me, and I share it with you for whatever value you might receive from it.

Frankly, I would much prefer writing ‘flash fiction’ or working on my new book, but I do care about my country and feel the need to express my concerns…my ‘right’ as an American.

Decisions, Decisions!

My recently published book, Joe Public’s Political Perspective, carries forth my concise and simple thoughts about government, politics, and some of the issues of our day… Hope you might read it.

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An Uneasy MindPosted on January 17, 2014 by billyraychitwood1


                                          An Uneasy Mind

Here on the Cumberland Plateau the mind is uneasy. I see some hint of sunshine through the windows as the gray cumulus clouds gather and move along toward the northeast. I hear the wind and see the sway of the lifeless and leafless limbs of trees, and I sit yearning for so much still yet in this life that is left to me.

I think of all the science and technology of which I know little or nothing…of my relatively short ride on this spinning orb and all that I’ve read about in the passage of time – the wars, the ability to hate and to love, the remarkable inability of good minds to absorb the lessons of history.

I ask myself, “What do I know that could make our country, our world, a safe and secure place in which to live and survive our past follies?” There comes the answer, sure and swift: “You know only what you are capable of knowing, from those first womb-free moments of existence to this precarious perch in twilight.”

Yet I write my books of fiction, make my characters heroes and villains, and play with words the make believe games of my youth. And, because my observation dictates, I write about a government which appears to be adrift, moving away from the convictions and faith of the past, moving away from the fundamental beliefs that have held strong for a few hundred years and created a great generation of men and women who were willing to sacrifice their lives so that freedom, liberty, and individual rights might be sacrosanct.

Now I turn to non-fiction, rant and rave about what I perceive as wrong with our current government in my new book, Joe Public’s Political Perspective. It is of course my freedom of speech that allows me to make my simple pronouncements, and I know that I’m not alone in the assertions I make.

Then I think, how can my political voice matter to anyone? Each of us believe what it is we have been programmed to believe, through a delicately engineered wiring system that makes our mind-motors run, through our environmental experiences, through inscrutable mazes I cannot imagine.

Who is right? Who is wrong?

Of course, I believe those of conservative leanings are right. That does not mean to me conservatives are all rich and think little of the poor and handicapped… I’m not wealthy and I know about poverty – been there, done that! Conversely, I believe conservatives care more for the weak, weary, and down-trodden than the franchises that have made it so easy over the years for people of color, unwed mothers, illegal immigrants, drifting idlers who care not to work but to live off of others’ labors, to eat at the public trough. If truth could be dispensed without prejudice and political design, it would show that conservatives are far more connected to the pulse of all Americans. Conservatives are not uncaring. The government must help those who truly need assistance. There are programs in place now that help so many. If more is needed, simple legislation is in order, not a huge government bureaucracy.

Those of heavy liberal minds have a vision for the country far different from the conservative minds. Many liberals wish to make entitlement and welfare the arguments for their agendas. It does not seem to matter to them the billions of dollars in wasteful spending that go from the taxpayers of our country. It is my belief that many liberals would be happier and more at home in the conservative camp.

Okay, so I’m uneasy. Politics sometimes seems to me a ‘whore’s game’ where ideologues vie for seats of power, where greed lives, where anger and division lives, where pork-barrel spending is business as usual. I do not like politics so much but it is the tree from which everything branches.

Now the clouds have united into a solid gray sky. There is now snow flurries on the plateau. Perhaps my uneasiness is caused by the conflicting clouds, sun, and snow, making slow to abate this little mind skittering… But wait, as I write the snow is gone, the sky is clear, and there is sunshine again. So quickly, these changes in the weather are occurring. Glad I’m not a weatherman!

Oh, well, make no mistake about it! I believe 2014 is a pivotal year for the United States and the world, certainly for those of us who want to preserve democracy, make government less intrusive and all-knowing.

Now, for sure, I’m going to promote my little book entitled, Joe Public’s Political Perspective. The brain power may not be its strongest point, but the words are the simple thoughts of a simple man. Feel free to buy it and see what Joe Public has to say. It is not broad in scope and it does not come from the pen of a political analyst or pundit.

It’s just me, taking a little mind excursion.

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Joe Public’s Political PerspectivePosted on January 8, 2014 by billyraychitwood1


2014 – A Critical Year – BUY THIS BOOK!

JUST PUBLISHED! Buy it at http://www.goo.gl/WPweKh Amazon US andhttp://www.goo.gl/CGp7bm Amazon UK

Simple message from a simple man! I want no government that chips away at my freedom and liberty, that denies me free access to my aspirations and dreams, that would dare make personal decisions for me, that deceives me with its rhetoric! It is, indeed, a critical 2014 that ‘We The People’ must face. My plea, my prayer, is that we do not let our democracy slip away.

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My Reaction To An InterviewPosted on December 27, 2013 by billyraychitwood1


                               My Reaction To An Interview 

A political pundit was interviewing an atheist, and I found myself becoming angry with the remarks of the latter. Of course, my anger had something to do with my Christian faith – a childhood faith that went through some amendments in adulthood. The remarks by the atheist were rude, stark, and outrageously arrogant, spoken with a sharp tongue and matter of fact nuance that grew my anger.

I understand that people have a right to their beliefs – that’s one of the marvelous gifts in our democracy. The atheist has that right to believe what he/she wishes, but, in my world, most atheists are ‘know-it-all’ blowhards who can really get under the skin of a not so patient individual – of me I speak. This guy of whom I reference being interviewed, I don’t remember his name, don’t care to remember, is not worth my remembering. The guy was asked a simple question: “Why do you offend people of faith with your atheist displays?” In one breath the atheist said, “I don’t care if I offend you or not.” In another breath, he said, “You can believe what you want, but don’t force it down our throats.” The Interviewer pointed out that atheists made up maybe 2 ½ per cent of the US population, that Christians made up 70 to 80 per cent, that Christians were not forcing anything on the atheists, but more the opposite.

The give and take lasted for several minutes, and I simply wanted to throttle the atheist – mostly because of his looks and his rude and arrogant behavior. Yes, I know this makes me sound like a not very Christian guy, but you had to be there.

Here’s my take. There are very likely pleasant enough atheists with whom I could converse, even like and find some areas of agreement, but many of those I’ve encountered carry this arrogance and egotistical mindset. I could much better understand an agnostic’s views of doubt about faith, but when someone categorically tells me there is no God, that life is no interlude to another dimension after death, that they are right and those of faith are wrong and rather stupid, I have no use for that individual. Whatever that makes me, I accept the description.

We live in a great country where there is great diversity of opinion and views on many matters, and I’m all for that. I just do not like arrogant and rude people suggesting to me that they know with certainty that their total lack of faith in a higher order trumps my faith. My faith is with me, wavers at time, some days wish it were stronger and without any sense of doubt, but all I have to do is remind myself of my own creation, that precise and methodical nine months (give or take) of intricate phases which brought me screaming into the world. I remind myself of the order in the universe and of a man named Jesus who lived among us, shared with us parables for living a good life, a man without sin and was said to be the Son of God. I remind myself of all the cultures of the world who embrace their God, perhaps not always by the same Scriptures and/or Strictures.

At this time of the year, our country gives people paid holidays to enjoy the day we call Christmas. Some of us buy Christmas trees. Some buy ‘Holiday’ trees. Some of us say “Merry Christmas” and some say “Happy Winter Solstice.” It seems remarkable to me that anyone could pick this time of year for mean spirited commentary when children and grown-ups find in the snow and fresh winter air some modest hope for our tomorrows – even, beyond our mortal tomorrows.

Many people are easy to like and enjoy, but, between you, me, and the proverbial fence post, I’m generally not too fond of atheists.

Hopefully, your Christmas was all you wished it to be. May your new year of 2014 be happy and prosperous.

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The Forest And The TreesPosted on November 10, 2013 by billyraychitwood1
The Forest And The Trees

With the exception of a grand view across the canyon to the bluff on the other side, our relatively new home is surrounded by hardwood trees, Maple and Oak for the most part. When my wife Julie, cat George, and I arrived on Tennessee’s Cumberland Plateau at the end of July the trees were full and green all around us but for that aforementioned grand bluff view. So, for most of our four acres I could look into the forest and see very little, not our nearest neighbors north and south, maybe an occasional deer, hawk, squirrel, or wild turkey. I could see our driveway snaking up and through the trees to the main road into our place and this somehow gave me a modest and odd feeling of comfort.

Now, with most of the leaves gone from the trees I can see the neighbors’ houses and more clearly some of the critters that inhabit with us our acreage. There is now a barren sense to the landscape, a lonely quality, and it is now the beginning of the time when we eagerly await the arrival of spring and new growth.

Well, with my mind and this quiet, infertile surrounding I leap to the state of our lives and the seemingly unproductive mechanism of our government. Some could argue that it has been a constant fall in the beltway with the shedding of decency, duty, and honesty, like the leaves on the trees.

I know politics is a dangerous subject in which to segue into, but it seems to me we have reached some sort of critical mass in Washington. No matter the side of your political leaning it is rather difficult not to notice the great abyss separating ‘we the people’ from our leaders. For me, a Christian and a man of faith, you already know my leaning side.

After five years of the current administration, at the beginning in control of both houses of congress and the presidency, what we have is a rudderless ship and a captain still making his promises of change. When will we get the message? The president is not a leader. He is a campaigner, a charming and eloquent rogue who is slowly taking our country away from us, we who still believe in freedom and liberty. He wants the government to control our lives, knowing better than we what is good for us… May I refer you to the recent Affordable Health Care Act? It is an act few people have read or totally understand, even the president.  But we are surely finding out about the AHCA and a website that just does not want it…along with many people.

He deceives us, gets re-elected with deception and with promises to the entitlement folks. He wishes to redistribute what earnings we might make and give them to those who have found it easier to live on welfare. (Don’t get me wrong. We must help those among us who truly need our help.) The president and his administrative functionaries will give us few or no answers to questions of vital importance… Like, Benghazi, the IRS targeting, et al. What do we need for further proof of where this president wants to lead us? History has shown us this place he wishes to lead us is not a good place. Is it not time for action? Not civil unrest! Not revolution! We need some strong voices, petitions, from ‘we the people’ to force a detour back to common sense and the US Constitution.

The president has had five years to show us his change. I’ve seen his change and do not like it. Initially, I was one of many who hoped he could deliver on his promises. He and his people work for us and their job performance is deplorable. If we must be in this place for another three years, can we at least use the mid-term elections in 2014 to alter the senate? Can we make Harry Reid in the senate and Nancy Pelosi in the house non-factors?

I am not a pundit. I’m just a US citizen who is very concerned about the state of our union. I’m currently writing a book from my ‘Joe Public’ perspective on politics. The book will make me many enemies, I’m sure, just as this post likely will, but perhaps there are some kindred souls out there who feel much the same.

Oh! I started with the forest and the trees, leaves falling, barren waste, views? That’s the nature of my mind…to wander and wonder.

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Conversation With JacobPosted on September 30, 2013 by billyraychitwood1
 

Conversation With Jacob

Jacob is my imaginary friend but he is real to me because he is my resource for living. Today we are sitting on the long deck of my log home, watching the squirrels scurry through the trees, up and down, and all around. An occasional bird drops by as if to say hello and/or to warn the squirrels of some danger nearby… This is the beginning point of my conversation with Jabob.

 

“Jacob, why is it that I’m rather fascinated by the activities of squirrels and birds?”

“You give me too much power of comprehension, BR. That’s okay because I know why you give me that power. You want so much to figure things out for yourself, to allow for a natural flow of understanding to come through your own mind…”

“Okay, Jacob, you’ve reminded me of that time and again…just answer my question.”

“Well, of course, I remind you time and again and that is because you seem to be in some haste to find answers which should be obvious to you, yet you seek confirmation from me, your alter ego and closest ally.”

“There you go again. Please, just answer the question.”

“You are looking at the squirrels and the birds to find meaning for your own life. You know that it is September and the squirrels are busy gathering their provisions for the winter. The birds stop by to neighborly check on their progress and to determine when it might be best for them to venture south… Now, ask your bigger question.”

“Okay, Jacob, how am I connected to all of this? (And, stop being flippant with me.”)

“Being flippant was not my intent, BR, but you must admit it’s a bit ‘squirrely’ when one has conversations with himself… Your connection to all of this? (Ah, a squirrel just skittered down a tree – see it, BR?)”

“Of course, I see it… You could not see it if I did not see it!”

“Very good, BR! I’m truly attached to you.”

“Cute! You were saying about my connection to all of this?”

“Your connection to the squirrels and birds and all living things with which you come into contact is that ‘Cogito, Ergo Sum’ thing. You think, therefore you are. You stand and walk where you walk and perceive, react, and assimilate information. The squirrels do so as fiercely as you do. They do what they do to exist – a rather simple truth, don’t you agree? The bears, bees, butterflies, cats, cows, dogs, eels (shall I run the alphabet of living things?), they all do what it is their species do and have done ad infinitum. You are the so-called ‘higher order’ so you make the world more complicated because of that ‘Cogito, ergo sum’ thing. You think things to a point of obsessive behavior…”

“Well, sure, we think. We also get to the moon. We get to Facebook and Twitter, to super sonic jets, to big cities with all the playthings we want. Our knowledge is doubling so quickly that we’re defining and re-defining ourselves at warp speed. Are you telling me we are moving too fast, not fast enough, or, we should not be creating all the digital wonders?”

“No and I’m reasonably sure you already know that. You did forget to mention that we create ways to destroy ourselves, the nuclear big blast thing. (Remember Charlton Heston at the end of one of those ‘Planet of the Apes’ movies where ‘Lady Liberty’s’ head and torso were half-buried in the beach sand?) All I’m saying is we are doing some things that just naturally come with all our smarts and ingenuity, and that’s good. What bothers me (ergo, you) is that we might very well be forgetting our hearts and souls. In this mad dash for making our lives so much digital and decidedly easier, are we just becoming cold and detached to matters of the heart and soul? And/or, is that the way this existential thing works? Is that really what these squirrels and birds are making you think about?”

“You know me so well, Jacob. Yes, I suppose that’s it. We think. We love. We procreate. We work. We fight in stupid wars. We pay taxes. We die. Is that dying part marking the final exit point of our existence? Do our souls transcend the darkness of dying and really go toward the bright light of eternity and God? Do we reincarnate and get another chance? Is there a God? Is all we see, feel, hear, sense, just a one time thing?”

“Ah, the most deliriously captivating metaphysical enigma of every age! Do you believe the squirrels and the birds concern themselves with these questions? No, I’m sure that you don’t. They appear to be simply instinctive robotic like creatures that cyclically repeat their actions from one generational pool to another. Do they think of mortality matters, afterlife, and reincarnation? As humans, I don’t suspect that we think they do. Do the mad dictators or corrupted leaders of the world who lead us into wars think of mortality matters? Do people of runaway ambition, avarice, greed, hatred, have pious thoughts? At age twenty-five, did you perhaps think you would live forever, that life stretched out before you like a road paved in gold? Ah, the age-old conundrum, which came first, ‘the chicken or the egg’! Infinity is a thought that mortals cannot wrap their minds around.

“Your questions have answers, depending upon the humility of your soul, BR. Do you look at the stars, the planets, the moon, the sun, orderly galaxies and imagine that they achieved that order by a ‘big bang’? Do you watch a sunrise and sunset, the rain, the snow, the falling leaves, and imagine that there is simply a natural order to such things? When you hold the one you love and experience the supremacy of all ecstasy and joy, do you wish you could stop your world and live forever in that moment? Do you ever think about the magical nine-month period of human birth, of the intricate and delicate patterns that must be formed for human life to begin? Do you simply believe that there is but the purpose to live and to die, that during the living, the world is a stage to perform your acts?”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting a migraine! William Wordsworth was right, ‘The World Is Too Much With Us.’ I want to believe, I will believe, that a supreme being made this spinning orb and that I have a chance to leave something of worth behind when I leave it. For ‘it is dark to die and I fear that I still wish to be’. A good friend wrote that line as he and a war buddy lay in a fox hole during one of the wars. With all my doubts, insecurities, my loves and dreams, I must believe, have faith that Ecclesiastes 3.1 has meaning for us all, ‘For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven…’ I believe, too, that others have faith and some do not. It is my way to respect the views of others while it is not always possible to do so.”

 “So the squirrels and the birds brought all of this about?”

“Well, yeah, pretty much, I guess. The tea was good, right, Jacob?”

“Now you know I don’t drink tea… I only listen to you and repeat everything you think… By the way, why is it you’re calling me Jacob?

See Billy Ray’s books at:  http://www.goo.gl.fuxUA

See short bio of Billy Ray at:  http://www.about.me/brchitwood

Visit Billy Ray’s website at:  http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

          

Meet my new book: “The Reluctant Savage”Posted on September 2, 2013 by billyraychitwood1

The writing process itself satisfies me immensely and, as most authors feel, I am gratified when a book I’ve written is bought by readers. Having just published my tenth book, “The Reluctant Savage,” it is now that difficult time to market the book, to let the world know that it exists and, more importantly, the world should buy it. Of course, it is a ‘hit or miss’ situation. So, here is my new book, fully clothed, ready for your preview.

First, I present to you the cover: (to your left.)

“The Reluctant Savage” embraces several genres, including mystery, romance, suspense, and, yes, it is the content inside the cover that will make or break the book.

For those who like brevity in book descriptions, here’s the short description of the book:

High school sweethearts, Billy Jay Campbell and Marcie Dangino reunite after many years apart. They discover the fire of their young love still glows brightly. With the Air Force behind him, Billy now works as an investigator for a law firm,

Two problems threaten to spoil his homecoming. Marcie is now married to a junior partner at Clarkson and Dangino, a firm that has occasionally employed him for their investigative work. The second problem occurs when Billy’s close friend and boss is murdered.

The Reluctant Savage follows a mystery that connects murder, romance, and a love triangle.

Don’t miss this fast-paced, gritty novel! 

For those who want a deeper grasp of “The Reluctant Savage,” here is the very first chapter:

                                                                    Current Time – Now

“You read this stuff a lot?” His wry smile mocked her while she found the musk from his body diametrically pleasing. He knew there would be no answer to his question as he turned the book over several times in his hand, then tossed it absently on the bedside table. The book skidded over the table and fell to the floor out of sight in the dark corner.

He stood and paced in the small bedroom, smacked himself on the right hip as he walked. “You really don’t like me very much. Know how I can tell? Want to know how I can tell? Just give me a nod. You don’t need to talk, even if you could…Oh, Christ!”

He stopped pacing, pulled a tissue from the box on the bed table, and wiped her nose. He threw the tissue on the floor in disgust. “Stop with the sniffling and the runny nose mess. Got me feeling like a nursemaid. I’ll let you go in a bit. I’ve got some thinking and talking to do. Then, I’ll let you go. Not much longer now, so try to relax.”

He looked down at the young woman on the bed, slowly ran his left hand through her golden hair, saw the redness around her eyes and cheeks. Gently he guided his fingers along her forehead and sat next to her.

An involuntary tautness came to her body but she felt no panic.

The man fingered the edges of the wide white tape that covered her lips and suddenly stripped it away.

The girl gasped, her eyes widened, and she began to open her mouth.

“Now, listen up,” the man said as his right hand closed over her lips, “I took the tape off but you can’t yell and scream. You got me? Blink if you do.”

The girl blinked and let out a deep sigh. “I would never scream and yell… you should know that. Can I have some water?” she asked weakly as the man took his hand away.

“In a minute, I’ll get you water, but now you have to listen. Will you listen to me, Marcie? I don’t want to put this tape back on you.”

“Yes,” her voice barely audible. “Can you please untie me? I hurt so badly.”

‘Maybe…Yes, I will, but you have to listen first. Will you listen?”

“Yes, I told you I would,” her voice weak and just audible.

The man hesitated there on the bed for several seconds, stared steadily into the pleading eyes of the young woman.

“Ah, what the hell, I’ll get your water now.”

The man left the room quickly, and the woman called Marcie closed her eyes and breathed deeply for the few seconds he was gone. As best she could she slowly arched and moved her body and wondered how long all of this would last. She in fact wondered how all of this had really begun.

When he returned, he stood silently in the doorway with a tall glass of water and watched the girl’s torpid stretching of her body, her face wrinkled with the aches of her moves. There was no attempt to escape. She was only after some degree of comfort from the bindings. He came to a decision. Fateful or not, he had to do it.

He hurried to the bed, placed the glass of water on the bedside table. “Okay, I’m going to take away the bindings, but you have got to promise me you won’t try to get away from me…not until you’ve heard me out…not until you have completely heard me out. Do you understand me? Do you promise? You won’t have to try to escape when I’m finished. I’ll let you go. Do you promise, Marcie?”

“Yes, Billy,” came her soft broken reply, “I promise. I don’t want to escape from you. I wish you knew that. Just let me have my body back.”

Billy undid the bindings from the posts of the bed, then from her arms and ankles. When he laid the white rubber-corded bindings in four separate loop piles on the floor next to the bed, he held out the glass of water. He held the glass while Marcie squirmed, turned, and he could hear the sounds of her body responding to their release from bondage.

For a while Marcie lay curled in a fetal position on the bed, silent, moaning in near orgasmic release. Finally, she began to unfold herself, limb by limb, opening and closing her fingers, moving the various joints, until she ended up with her back against the headboard of the bed. Her short gold and lavender dress hiked up to show the gold bikini panties, and she made no attempt in her weakness to hide them. Some of her previous fear had left her. An uncertain calmness spread through her.

“Here, drink some water, Marcie.”

She took the glass, spilled some drops on her bared thighs, and sipped cautiously at first, then gulped the water down. She sat uncertainly holding the empty glass until he took it from her.

“You want more?”

She meekly, negatively shook her head, and painfully raised her arms above her head two times. She then leaned again against the headboard.

Billy moved the chair closer to the bed just a few feet from where Marcie now sat. With his nearness, her legs were drawn tightly together and she pulled at her dress to hide her gold silk panties. It was more a gesture than a concern. He looked in her eyes softly and steadily until the silence between them prompted him to speak: “You’re so damned lovely, Marcie, I…”

“Billy, why…”

He didn’t allow her to finish the question. His mood subtly shifted, as though reminding himself that he could not go back to where his thoughts were taking him. “You are to listen, Marcie, remember?”

She nodded her assent, but added, “I’m queasy, Billy. Can I have some crackers?”

“When I’m finished you get your crackers. The water will hold you. Now, be quiet and listen to me…”

“Just a few crackers, Billy, that’s all, and another glass of water… Please! I’m feeling nauseous. Maybe it’ll settle my stomach.”

He sighed, blinked his eyes, shook his head and almost smiled. He got up, grabbed the empty glass off the night stand, and left the room. Going out the bedroom door, he looked back at Marcie and gave her a thoughtful nod.

He returned shortly with a paper napkin holding several saltines and the glass of water. Putting the water on the bedside table he handed her the napkin and soda crackers. “Now, eat your crackers and don’t talk. I’ve got to get this said…”

He watched her daintily nibble at the crackers, pausing to swallow with some effort. She almost choked with her first swallow, but he handed her the water to help force the food down. She managed to finish the crackers, more water, and appeared to be feeling better.

Then Marcie closed her eyes for a moment, reopened them, and leaned back against the headboard. “Thank you, Billy,” she muttered weakly as she tried to clear her throat of any lingering crackers. “I’ll be quiet now and let you talk.”

He bowed his head briefly as he picked a start point for his monologue. “You know none of this had to happen, and it’s so stupid to even hear me say that! Christ, give me a time machine. Let me go back and get a second chance at all this… But, damn, it did happen! You, I, Jerry, Albert, the frigging finger of fate. You’re beautiful, Marcie, and you know it, and you use it. You drove me crazy with it. You wanted too damned much from Jerry and me, and when you got it you turned it all inside out and made this happen…”

“But, Billy, you know…”

“Shush, Marcie. I’ve got to get it out, so be quiet. That night, after the big dinner banquet, that night began this whole thing. Jerry drunk, you and creepy Albert half-drunk and playful there in our little corner of the Eastside Tennis Club Lounge, and, yeah, I had a little buzz as well. It was Jerry, feeling his booze, who was dredging up the ‘fun game’ he got from the comedian. He was like a silly schoolboy about his idea. I can still see the wrinkled look on your face when he brought it up, the way you looked sort of embarrassed, the way you looked at all of us at the table. You gave him that, ‘Oh, Jerry, don’t be silly’ look. You put on a good show. Albert was the only one who didn’t have a clue. He was still up for more fun and games with you…the bastard! Guess I could have lived with it all, Marcie, but your part of setting me up…”

“But, I didn’t, Billy…”

“Shush, I’m talking here. Yeah, maybe I could have lived with it all until my ass was on the line, until I was the one to take the fall for something that was all ‘Swahili’ to me. Me, I was a really ripe country pumpkin ready for the pie bowl.”

“But it wasn’t that way, Billy. You have to believe me. It was Albert.”

“Bull, Marcie, Albert hardly knew what was happening.”

“That was all an act, Billy. Albert knew much more than he let on. It was his evil doing all along. The little flirtatious business between Albert and me was all just fun and games, something we started at the beginning of my employment there. There was never anything serious between us.”

“Funny how you didn’t sing these songs when I was passed out on the floor, blood all over me. In the end you ran up here to your new cabin.”

“Billy, I thought you were dead. Please believe me! Albert was the only ringmaster for that little ‘solve the murder’ game. He used Jerry just like he used you. I didn’t trust him but I also didn’t know what he was up to.”

“You really expect me to believe that? After all this crap I’ve been through, you’re just going to tell me that this was all Albert. You, sweet little Marcie, had no part in it at all. You’re something else! You want to be tied and taped again until I finish?”

“You don’t have to finish, Billy. I know you didn’t kill the little girl. I know you didn’t kill Jerry. And, you didn’t kill Albert and his wife… I killed Albert after he killed his wife and kid and came after me!”

“Jesus! Will you still use me like this? Have I been in a Grimm fairy tale all along? Do you have not an ounce of decency and feeling in you, Marcie? I’m eager to tell you this story of mine, and you’re telling me I have no story to tell. I was there, remember? The little girl, the woman, Jerry, and Albert, they were all there dead when I regained some senses. Their blood was all over me. They were all dead!”

Billy paused as the image of the little girl came and somehow got stuck in his throat. The memory quakes made him turn briefly away from Marcie. He shuttered and almost cried. Then his brain dipped and swooned for a moment. Maybe some of the brain action was coming from the old air force injury.

“Billy, it was Albert. He easily manipulated Jerry into bringing up the ‘game.’ He manipulated you. He manipulated all of us. That’s the truth, I swear it!”

“Christ, Marcie, don’t do this to me.”

“I swear to you it is true.”

“So why did you run, Marcie? Where were you when I came out of my drugged daze, blood all over me, bodies everywhere?”

“I was afraid, Billy! My God! I thought you were dead! Forgive me for being so weak and terrified. Albert was still making some small movements on the floor. I was afraid – and I’m ashamed that I left you. With all the blood on you, I was sure you were dead. I know better now. I know that Albert made sure you had blood all over you. That had to be his plan, Billy, but I didn’t know his plan. I swear to you, I did not know his plan.”

“Where did you get the gun to kill Albert? Were there guns all over the place?”

“Jerry gave it to me to carry, just in case there was any trouble – he worried about me after he got beat up after that merger meeting. Look, Billy, everyone was dead, or, I thought so, when I came into that room. Shock overtook me and I saw Albert standing over the dead girl on the bed. There was a gun next to him on the bed. He saw me, started to pick up the gun, and I shot him two, three times. He fell, twitched a couple times, and I ran… I’m sorry, Billy, but that’s the truth. I just had to be out of that room. I’m a coward but I would never have left had I known you were alive.”

“Why did you run here to the cabin?” Why not run to the police?”

“Jerry had just gotten this place. Nobody knew about it. People do stupid things in a crisis. The cabin was my first thought…just to be away from everything, where no one knew where I was. There was just so much to explain and I wasn’t up to it. I ran to the car and drove up here. All I’ve said, Billy, I swear it’s all the truth.”

“Are you also going to tell me you love me? Even now, when I’ve had you imprisoned here for all these hours?”

“Yes, I’m going to tell you I love you, because I do.”

“That didn’t seem the case a short while ago, with the tears, the runny nose, and the fear in your eyes. You thought I was some kind of monster.”

“Damn it, Billy, my body was hurting. My brain was working overtime. The tears were not so much from fear as from sadness at seeing you this way.”

“God, Marcie, if I thought you meant any of what you’re saying, your words would take some of the pain away. It would maybe bring back some sanity I fear I’ve lost. It would…”

Suddenly, there were loud crashing sounds and harsh voices coming from behind the closed bedroom door.

Instinctively, Billy rose from his chair with wild eyes, mouth agape, and moved quickly toward the only window in the small room.

Amid a chorus of shrieks the door burst open, and Billy felt a jolting sting to the back of his head as he tried to exit the window. He fell limp and unconscious to the floor.

(End of first chapter.)

So, you now have some sense, some feel, for “The Reluctant Savage.” It’s my hope that you will want to read the book, and, if you do, please feel free to let me know your thoughts, good and/or excellent.  (Okay, authors are human, too!) Write a review, tweet me, facebook me, e-mail me. With that written, here are the ‘buy links’ for this novel:


http://www.createspace.com/4392898


Amazon Kindle Version: http://goo.gl/MI7PLI


Amazon US: http:goo.gl/FmEAc0


Amazon UK: http:goo.gl/1UxQco


You can follow me on these sites:


http://www.twitter.com/brchitwood


http://www.facebook.com/billyray.chitwood


My main website/blog: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com


Independent Author Network – http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (bio and my books)


http://www.about.me/brchitwood  (Bio)


        

A Parable Of SortsPosted on June 30, 2013 by billyraychitwood1

It’s curious how the mind can wander off into a story…

During a ‘time out’ from working on my WIP (“The Reluctant Savage”) my mind began its wandering and somehow settled on some of the world’s more problematic issues – at least, from the perspective of someone living in the USA and being bombarded each day with unsettling news from far away places, news of Syria’s internal devastating turmoil, of Iran’s new leadership and how it might hold some slight promise for relieving old angers and hatreds, news of a North Korea that seems always deleterious and scary…

I reached for my laptop and began to type this rather small piece that became a fanciful story. I decided at its conclusion that it had some ‘nuance’ here and there and decided to give it a title, “A Parable of Sorts.” I’m posting it here because I’m a writer who can hardly ever let anything I write, good or bad, go to waste. Hopefully, this little tale will not be too disconcerting to the senses. With this said, here’s the tale…

                                                                            “A Parable Of Sorts”

Sasha begged him not to go. “You belong here with me, Leonid. The battle is within you, not with North Korea. What of us?” She tugged at his tattered coat.

He smiled benignly, “You’re a lovely and silly girl. You do not understand the reality of our time. To stay would be to defy my beliefs, my convictions, and, yes, my anger and hatred.”

“You would die for these beliefs and convictions, this anger and hatred?”

“We all must die, Sasha.”

“You brought me here to be left alone in a strange country?”

“Hong Kong is not a strange country, foolish one. We’ve been here sometime now. You know many of our native people. Go to them when your money runs out. Stay with them. Should something go wrong, I will return for you.”

“Please, Leonid, you go to die and you know it. You’ve told me of your plans. You go on a suicide mission. I’ve begged before and I beg of you, now, please stay!”

At the door of the small efficiency apartment, Leonid paused with his hand on the door knob. His dark eyes and handsome face held a strange and wistful look. He removed his hand from the door knob, returned to Sasha where she stood by the tiny dining table. “You are so beautiful, my blue-eyed wonder.” He embraced and gave her a long passionate kiss.

He then quickly twisted her head until he heard the snap. The lips were still in a half-smile as her head dangled and fell to his right shoulder, her blue eyes large and vacant in their death stare. In a whisper, he spoke, to the face he had loved, “Better you go this way, my dear Sasha, than to linger in life’s pain. You cannot know but I did love you.”

Leonid gently lowered her body onto a soiled stuffed chair just a few feet from the dining table, gazed upon her splayed form for some seconds, then slowly left the apartment. Tears welled but he willed them away, a final and essential part of his being had snapped and was forever lost to him.

                                                                                    *****

Night, reluctant to shed its vagueness, was slowly showing its lightened eastern clouds as the sun gave way to earth’s perpetual orbital pattern. Leonid walked in the shadows along streets leading to the Kumsusan Memorial Palace. It was still quiet in this city known as ‘Flat Land’ in its translation. In his backpack he carried explosives with timer mechanisms that he would plant at key buildings. The explosive carefully strapped to his body he would save for the KMP.

His thoughts were well focused on his morning’s mission but he could not deny the flashing memories that brought him to this point in time…

His father, mother, and brother had been ruthlessly killed here in Pyongyang in 2012 by a squad of government gangsters of the ‘People’s Republic of Korea.’ His family was shown no mercy as they were chopped to death by machetes, labeled spies against the state. Four hours later his older brother and sister were pulled from their lodgings, beaten, and then chopped to death. The government squad had no ears to listen to his family’s protests of innocence, their legitimate reason for being in the ‘Flat Land,’ their labored cries of mercy.

Pyongyang’s government never wavered from their ill-gotten information about his family. Never mind that his mother had pleasantly refused to cater a special luncheon for the squad and their friends, the sole event and motive that brought the hatred and the killings. Never mind that his sister would be raped before she was chopped. The killings were all justified, each query quashed and forgotten by the government.

His marriage to Sasha prior to the family murders made home life an hourly ebb and flow of emotions. When sleep would come there were the hellish nightmares, waking, screaming the names of his dead family, his body slick with sweat and tears, Sasha clinging to him, sobbing, trying desperately to slay the night-dragons that possessed him.

Then came the job loss and it was as though the people of Hong Kong could see the rage in his eyes, the stench of hatred from his body. He became a man avoided and feared. Sasha tried to get him help, would set an appointment for him to see someone who might be able to help him, but he would not arrive at the set time. Sasha was the only person in the large city who could give him moments of relative calm, but then those times of surcease became fewer and fewer.

He would not bathe nor shave, only when Sasha would run his bath and physically pull and push him to the tub and wash and rinse him. For those few precious moments Sasha could almost sense some warmth come to him…but it never lasted long. The strange hatred that occupied him never resulted in personal damage to her. She did the talking, asking questions of him, and he bluntly answered the questions – until the fateful day he killed her! It was only some modicum of revenge that would fulfill what was left of his putrid life…

As he walked in the shadowy stillness, a voice came to him from an alleyway just a few feet away: “Leonid, I must talk to you. Come walk with me in the alley.”

Leonid stopped, momentarily startled…no one knew his name, knew that he was here in Pyongyang. “Who speaks my name?” He braced himself against a building corner near the alley, moving his hand near a detonator that would vaporize him and much of the immediate area.

“A friend, Leonid. Please come these few steps and talk to me. There is no harm intended. We will talk, and you can do then what you will.” The voice had a calm and soft cadence, and Leonid knew that the man spoke the truth.

Leonid walked a few feet into the alley until he saw a man’s form. What struck him were the man’s eyes. They glowed in the semi-darkness, matched the tenor of the stranger’s voice. Oddly, Leonid was not afraid of the stranger and walked some fifty feet further down the alley, stopping when the stranger sat on a wooden crate. The stranger bid Leonid to sit on another wooden crate nearby.

“How is it that you know me and what do you want?”

“I’m just a man who knows the pain you carry within you and the mission that you are on.”

“How could you possibly know such things?”

“I have been with you all the way from Hong Kong, Leonid, mourning with you the loss of your beloved Sasha.”

“I killed her! With these ugly knotted hands, I killed her. How can you know this, Tell me who you are and why you are here, or, I will…”

“Leonid, just a few questions I have and you can be on your way.” The stranger’s voice was mesmerizing, measured in softness and tone. “Why is it, Leonid, that we are here on this spinning orb we call earth?”

There was rapture in the stranger’s voice that commanded a response. “We are here to live in parables and to die and be no more.”

The stranger’s eyes seemed to glow more brightly and the long beard he wore was a pellucid whiteness that seemed somehow unearthly. Leonid quickly considered whether of not he was awake or in a dream.

The stranger spoke. “So, why is it that the moon falls from the sky, the sun does not bring us daylight, and birth has no precise process to follow?”

Still taken by the stranger’s soothing voice, but a bit nonplussed, Leonid responded. “But you know that is not so. What is your motive here?”

The stranger seemed not to hear the question. “Why is there no evil and good in the world?”

“Stop confounding me with your Socratic silliness. Of course, there is evil and there is good in the world.”

“And why do you think that is so?”

“God only knows.”

“You speak His name as though you know him, Leonid. Do you know God?”

“There is no God!”

“Yet, you say He knows about evil and good.”

“Look, your aura wraps me in some kind of spell and I seem compelled to listen to your words. Please tell me what it is you wish me to know.”

“One last question, your response, and I will say my final words to you. “Did you truly love Sasha?”

“Of course, with all my heart I loved her, but my heart and soul is heavy with grief and hatred.”

“Like the hatred of Jesus’ enemies as they crucified Him on the cross? Like the hatred of the Americans for the Japanese during World War Two? Like the psychotic hatred of serial killers?”

“Yes, yes! How else can I answer such questions?”

“You can answer such questions by having Faith that there is more to come beyond this life, by believing that evil only spreads when good people are paralyzed by anger, fear, and hatred. To Love is to have Faith. To have Faith is to have Love. These noble elements of living decide our ultimate destinies. People have choices to make all their earthly lives. They will not always make the right choices, but Faith and Love will make all the wrong choices bearable and inconsequential when the last grain of sand is gathered.”

As more light came to the alley Leonid thought that he understood what the stranger was saying to him. He wanted to say something but no words would come.

The stranger lifted himself from the crate and stood in front of Leonid. “May I touch your head, Leonid, so that it might bless you?”

With tears now flowing, Leonid merely moved his head downward. The stranger touched his head. Leonid sensed warmth on his head and a coursing flutter through his body. Then, the hand left his head.

When Leonid raised his head, the stranger was gone and daylight streamed throughout the alley.

                                                                                    *****

When Leonid awoke, his head was on his own pillow. He was gazing at the adjoining pillow into the wondrous blue eyes of his beloved Sasha, a sweet smile upon her face.

“You look different somehow, my love. Do you still intend to carry out your vendetta against North Korea? Please say that you will not.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her face to his chest.

“No, my precious love, there will be no vendetta, not ever…” Leonid tightly wound himself around Sasha and gave her a long and tender kiss. “I’m torn,” he said, “making love to you, or, bacon and eggs?” He paused only briefly, “Oh, to hell with the bacon and eggs…”

[END of tale]

Please follow me here on my blog and at http://twitter.com/brchitwood

See my main website and blog at: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

There is a short bio sketch and further links at: http://www.about.me/brchitwood

My nine books can be previewed at: http://goo.gl/fuxUA (Just scroll down the page)

Different Shades Of RealityPosted on May 23, 2013 by billyraychitwood1
            
Looking down from a skyscraper in New Your City, the people look so small, as puppets moving on a giant invisible string. The cars, taxis, trucks, and buses crawl along like toys in a make-believe gift set. From this height a small body stops to look into a window filled with miniature pieces. Two bodies emerge from a taxi, met by a doorman, and are ushered into a hotel or ritzy apartment complex. All movements seem surreal from this lofty perch, and I’m all alone up here for my mind to imagine and scheme all sorts of life plots. What if I were higher, unable to see any movements, only able in my quasi-existential being to know that these puppets and toys are there and are continuing their movements? The mind ploy thickens.

We each see the working of our world in different shades of reality. We are similar in ways, dissimilar in others. We believe in a Deity. We are agnostic or claim to be atheist. We like a political party for that or this reason. We are truly who we say we are. We wear masks to hide what really abides inside of us. We contradict ourselves. We say exactly what we mean. We are habitual and predictable. We are wisps in the wind and simply go with the whims of our emotions. We convince ourselves that we are the masters of our own fates. We are filled with doubt and frightening scenarios in our existence… We are all these things, and, more.

From so high a Lofty Perch are our lives being controlled? Are we the puppets on a string? Is each of us performing an act that must play out before we become too obsolete to perform any longer? How can any one of us, any group of us, know with certainty the meaning of our time on this rotating orb we call Earth? We are filled with action to go and do marvelous deeds. We are timid and without any sort of resolve. We are violent and we are peacemakers. We are Saints and we are Satans…

So I awake from this silly dream, this exercise in futility, and find that I need to find for me a point to it all! ‘Cogito ergo sum’ works well enough, but I know somehow that, to keep going, I must keep dreaming, keep believing that something Wonderful got me here and will take me to where it is I’m supposed to go when the time is right. Yes, I am a man of Faith, a man who believes that puppet Master is up there pulling my strings, giving me my role to play out, just as He gives similar and dissimilar roles to us all. Some of us need my kind of role to keep sanity – it is the only role that I can play. For those given other roles, how can I truly say you are playing the bad role? How can you say that I am playing the bad role?

Thus we walk among each other in our different shades of reality.

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