Contemplations of a Tainted Mind

2.12.2008

Another Day, Another Way + [The Schism, pt. I]

So, today was plenty interesting. Learned, of course, more interesting things. As well as realized a few things about myself. Of course. Mostly learned about statistics today, and how they apply in terms of the Indicator. Bob showed us how they come to the 65% accuracy rating, as well as let us in on a little known fact. Most SPs mis-type as NPs or SJs. Due to the questions and an unfortunate bias in the two metrics. There's, apparently about a 9% Correlation between the S-N Questions and the J-P Scale, and about a 9% Correlation between the J-P Questions and the S-N Scale. So this causes people that tend towards SP to answer the questions incorrectly towards one result or the other. Still not sure what James' type is, but I'm pretty sure this is related to it. Ah well.

So, my Ads are active now. If you don't like them, let me know. I might take them off. Otherwise, I can't imagine they're really that intrusive. They don't really stand out in terms of their colors, and they might, eventually, be handy. Right now they're focusing mostly on MBTI and Religion. Speaking of which, I spoke with Mike and he thinks I might try writing a Self-Help book. I was contemplating writing a book entitled "How to Lose Yourself Without God". Ah well. I may, also, coerce him into writing. I've been pushing James towards creating more.. towards that point, he did make a blog: http://phygerion-tonto.blogspot.com/

Go visit, read his poetry, leave nice comments, tell him how wonderful it is. Then come back here and read my stuff. On one last note, a story.

The two men stood, a ferocity gripping the air and gradually tearing the air from lungs and souls from bodies. A stark tensity stood, as each man tried to remain standing, tried to conjure the power needed to not only survive the next flurry of brutal attacks, but also to push back and, hopefully, deliver an even more powerful flurry that might defeat the other. Here they stood, in this silent despair, gripping for any energy they could. The younger, pulling wisps of energy from the slight breeze teasing his flesh, each little breath of air getting absorbed into his very being. His long, blue robes fluttering in odd whirls and eddies with the small currents dancing about him as his energies gradually built, small breeze after minuscule wisp, a flurry of roars felt in the distance.

Across the clearing, an older man stood, feet planted firmly in the ground, vines slithering like lethargic snakes about his wide, earthen legs. He wore no robes, but his armor hung from his chest and hips like massive stone plates, pulling every ounce of his being to the ground almost as though the very earth upon which he stood was attempting to engulf him. As this man reinforced himself with these lush, terran energies, his very appearance almost seemed to begin to change. He would seem, in those instances between blinks and glances, as a massive stone beast, growing in size, girth and sheer power. And yet, if one were to focus directly at him, one would see nothing but a large, powerful old man standing in a stony pose, imperceptibly breathing, hardly moving, waiting patiently.

Only the gods could define how long the period of time immediately after this was. Birds lived their lives, animals continued in their blissfully ignorant existence, and humans, thousands of miles away, continued without any thoughts to magic or energy or any of these bizarre, esoteric things. However, it was during this long moment that the earth felt itself building pressure, like a volcano, ready to explode in a focus swath of rage so powerful that it could level an entire forest. It was during this moment that the high winds of the earth heeded a call, one that was rarely sent out. All four of the winds could feel themselves being drawn, potently, into an abyss that they knew little of and only knew that they must serve absolutely. The winds roared as the earth began to bleed. Molten flesh, burning its way through anything organic flowed like an angry tsunami exploding relentlessly forward. The winds realized their purpose, their mission. They then built a wall of sheer air between their master and this wall of molten earth. This wall of pure air and wind then began moving. First, crawling, then more quickly. As the tsunami of magma cooled and began to break apart, the winds picked up the shattered pieces and viciously attacked their only mortal enemy with them.

Moments later, the winds returned to their homes at the corners of the world. The earth shuddered as a scar that would never heal was created. And the man in his blue robes collapsed from exertion, energy pouring from his body, filling the air with hurricane winds.

On that note, if you like my writing and want to help, let me know. I'd love any assistance with writing anyone'd be willing to give. If it fits into my stuff, I'll gladly post it and make sure you get credit for it. Otherwise, if you really do like it (Even a little bit..) or if you absolutely hate it, leave me a comment. Tell me!