Exceptional Discovery

Check this site out for the exceptional discovery
Found: King Anunnaki’s body, 12,000 years old and completely intact https://t.co/VCKj4QuP3V

Short Story: For Beauty

Please enjoy this awesome and wonderful written short story, For beauty, by the amazing Author Regina M. Joseph. Please feel free to give some feedback and let me know how you enjoyed this story.

FOR BEAUTY

BY

REGINA M. JOSEPH

“Missing,” the Magistrate pronounced loudly, followed by a mumbled, “That’s one less.” He tossed his long braid over his shoulder to hide his discomfort. Carefully nestling his stylus between two pudgy fingers, he let his hand sweep down to affix a check beside the name of the missing Outlander. “I’ve eliminated her from the rolls.”

                “We need more workers,” the factory foreman protested, not daring to glance up to the podium.

                “You have plenty.”

Grumbling, the gray-bearded foreman folded his hands in his blousy sleeves and floated into the shadows.

                “We’re done for the day,” the Magistrate intoned. Arising on his transport pillow, he floated from the adjudication room to his private sanctuary. He smiled. Gentle music filled the air. The shutters of the holographic window lay open to a garden overflowing with delicate flowers of every color. Resting on the imagined window ledge, the magistrate drank in the delicate perfume. Releasing a long sigh, he thought, This is how it used to be and how it will be again.

                His attendant, dressed in the drab homespun of an Outlander, offered a cup of wine. He bowed from the waist. “Difficult day, my lord?”  

                Detecting surliness in his voice, the Magistrate accepted the cup and studied his face. His attendant was usually pleasant, one could even say competent. He’d shared many a debate with the man, agreeing on nothing. For an Outlander, he was intelligent and arguably worth saving. Nevertheless, an edict had to be applied evenly. Only one wistful glance at the beauty beyond the window was sufficient to ratify his course. Swirling the wine in his cup, he noticed a defiant glance.

                “You know what’s being done, don’t you?”

                The attendant stiffened. “We are given provisions for a journey and told that a perfect settlement for Outlanders has been readied. Its décor is plain and utilitarian as our traditions mandate. But the directions to this nirvana are faulty, or false, and Outlanders are unfamiliar with the terrain outside the City walls—as you well know. In truth, the path goes through the sinking land. We go to certain death. Officially, we are missing, as if we deviated from the directions.”

                The Magistrate winced. “We’re not responsible for the lost ones.”

                The Magisterium’s unanimous edict had been rendered after an intense, but brief, debate. The Magistrate had his moral doubts, but the situation had deteriorated to where reprehensible acts were the only available course. It was kill or be killed. The City’s natives had revolted because the Outlander influence had, they said, ruined their culture. Their society used to be filled with colorful gardens of magnificent beauty, and people wore colorful garments. Music was played everywhere. Now, the beautiful life remained only in hiding. Over time, the Outlanders’ population had reached a tipping point within the City’s walls, and they’d bullied and used their demonstrations to eradicate all that the natives considered beautiful. It was as if a revolution had occurred, stealthily and silently, without anyone even knowing there was a war afoot. 

                “Not lost. Purged.”

“So,” the Magistrate probed, “is the so-called purge―I admit nothing―common belief among your kind?” The Magisterium had designed the cleansing for secrecy and for avoiding distasteful hands-on bloodshed, thinking that the Outlander bodies would sink into the bogs without a trace. Nature was responsible. But knowledge meant resistance. His stomach knotted. I must warn the Magisterium.

                “We all know.”

                The Magistrate’s mind raced. We must accelerate the purge. They outnumber us.

The attendant fumed, “You brought us here.”

                The Magistrate narrowed his eyes, annoyed that his guilt was so apparent. “We made short-term offers for work that we ourselves could no longer perform. We needed labor and we were willing to afford Outlanders excellent hospitality in return. Your forebears accepted—the offers were the mistake of the old regime. The bargain was made for expediency, and we miscalculated how much you’d breed, as well as how little we would. Before the violence began, we ignored the imbalance and your growing resistance to our authority. We sought to placate you by leaving you alone. Outlanders migrated into ever more neighborhoods, using their numbers for intimidation. Who could have foreseen that you’d ban our wonderful gardens? We’re losing our identity. Since you don’t appreciate our culture, we must be rid of you. But you wouldn’t accept our incentives to leave. Violence could still be avoided.”

                “We’ve nowhere to go. We’re generations away from our homeland.”

                “After extensions of our bargain, we assumed that you’d appreciate our beauty and become one with us. How can anyone not appreciate beauty? It’s unthinkable.”

                The attendant taunted, “You have no right to design your life. Your inability to walk is punishment. Without us, you’ve lost the ability to survive.”

History channel, 10,000 B.C., validates the geology of Alterran Legacy Series. http://alterranlegacy.com 

Author Spotlight

Check out Regina M. Joseph's author spotlight on Author Jaz Johnson's blog. Check out her great blog as well http://jazjohnson.weebly.com/regina-m-joseph-spotlight.html

Ancient Builders Created Monumental Structures that Altered Sound and Mind, Say Researchers

https://alien-ufo-sightings.com/2015/09/ancient-builders-created-monumental-structures-that-altered-sound-and-mind-say-researchers/ 

We're leading our nation & the world on a #JourneyToMars. Our plan outlining the next steps http://t.co/BVyrAJbNEv

Please check out all of the awesome eZnes from Authors Cave!!!!!!

http://www.flipsnack.com/chameleon/may-romance-ezine.html

http://www.flipsnack.com/chameleon/may-fantasy-suspense-mystery-horror.html

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Do you like Spooky, Suspense and Mysterious? Well check this great video out about great books. You can find all the books at amazon.com     https://youtu.be/tzRCnsguUuQ 

BLOG HOP: J.L MCFADDEN

Please read this wonderful interview of J.L MCFADDEN                                    

NJ – How are you doing today?

JL – I am well. What about yourself?

NJ – Never better. Why don’t you tell our readers a little about yourself?

JL - I grew up in farm area in P.A, spent my early years touring with cover and original bands. I have lived in a ton of places: Upstate New York, Buffalo NY, Redondo Beach, Hollywood, and now I am living overseas.

NJ – So you like moving around a lot?

JL – Not really, I just went where the wind took me I guess. I have learned a lot from a lot of different people. Spent time with Mountain men, Native Americans, every race you can think about in America, a lot of different people around the world.  Every culture has a story or think of it as a song; we only have one life to try and experience as much as we can.

NJ – Sounds like fun, but haven’t you had issues with language or cultural ordeals?

JL – Some would say the language is a hardship, but I look at it as a chance to be like a three year old again and have to learn to communicate with people.  Just look at any two or three year old and see how they try to convey to the adults in their lives what they need… Cultures never shock me to be honest. I read a lot and am open minded.

NJ – What drives you to write?

JL – Do you mean drives me mad?

NJ – (laughing) No, no! What drives you to write?

JL – I know all authors have different systems, but for me it is like a movie, I see something happen or someone doing something and then the book starts playing out in my head… No plot planning no structure – I just write what I see going on in my head – like a projector beaming on the back of my head.

NJ – So you don’t do any research?

JL – I do fact checking if I am not sure if something is accurate, but one of my hobbies is reading and studying history and I think my sub-conscience runs off that. Very rarely will I need to dig into anything. Maybe like a language type of thing or names. For Adela I had to look for old names from that time period.

NJ – Who is your favorite writer?

JL – Terry Pratchett. He is one of a kind and we could talk forever about his Disc World.

NJ- But you write paranormal, don’t you find that a bit odd?

JL – Anne Rice reads mysteries and talks about them often on her interviews, so I think reading authors far from you is a normal thing.  I also have some new books coming out that are not paranormal.

NJ – What inspired your book Choices?

JL – The books Adela and The Guardian, because the story needed to continue.

NJ – Why did you right the prequel Adela after the Guardian?

JL – Adela was just larger than anything in the book; not only did I have readers ask about her, I was asking myself, how would a woman become that powerful and be able to have so many loyal followers through the hardest of times? Adela came to me one day as I was working out and I left the gym and went home to draft the book.

NJ – What is something you strive for in your writing?

JL – What every author strives for: To be able to take my readers into my little world. You see what people like you and I do is put our hopes, dreams, and fantasies down to page, which allows our readers to walk hand in hand with us through our own little words – even years after we have passed. I believe every author strives to be good enough to take the hand of their reader and guide them through the magical world that was created within the author’s head.

NJ – I have really enjoyed our time here and hope to see you back here in the future.

JL – Likewise, it has been a pleasure speaking with you.

Author Bio: 
J.L McFadden was born in  Pennsylvania and spent his life bouncing around the States until beginning to travel the world. Starting out he was a well-known musician in upstate New York that had a heavy playing schedule. Later he went back to his home state to work in the Lumber mills of the mountains. In California working in sales, management and even directed a small moving company until deciding to see the world. His travels around the world have allotted him to not only join an International Aikikai Aikido Federation, but have trained with Sanseis from Belgium, Ukraine, Russia and other European countries. He accounts his journeys and meeting of new people to his broad character types in his books.

Book Blurb: 
While still doubled over, picking up a book, Adela stated with a sultry voice, "One of these days, I am going to make you deliver on all of those promised ideas, running through your head when you watch me." She had a playful sound to her voice with her smile, telling that fulfilling his dreams was not out of the question.

Website: http://www.jlmcfadden.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/officaljlmcfadden

G+: https://plus.google.com/+JamieLeeMcFadden/posts

Twitter: https://wwww.twitter.com/jamieleemcfadde

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20842432-choices

Purchase:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Choices-The-Guardian-Volume-2/dp/1492747246/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1423908742&sr=8-1

BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/choices-j-l-mcfadden/1121101320?ean=9781492747246

Rafflecopter Giveaway: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4af5be7f12/

Goodreads Event Page: https://www.goodreads.com/event/show/956279-choices-blog-tour

eZine

Please enjoy this awesome new eZine from the Author's Cave!!!!!!

Short Story: For Beauty

Please enjoy this short story, and feel free to comment, Enjoy :)

FOR BEAUTY

BY

REGINA M. JOSEPH

“Missing,” the Magistrate pronounced loudly, followed by a mumbled, “That’s one less.” He tossed his long braid over his shoulder to hide his discomfort. Carefully nestling his stylus between two pudgy fingers, he let his hand sweep down to affix a check beside the name of the missing Outlander.

“I've eliminated her from the rolls.”

                “We need more workers,” the factory foreman protested, not daring to glance up to the podium. 

                “You have plenty.”

Grumbling, the gray-bearded foreman folded his hands in his blousy sleeves and floated into the shadows. 

                “We’re done for the day,” the Magistrate intoned. Arising on his transport pillow, he floated from the adjudication room to his private sanctuary. He smiled. Gentle music filled the air. The shutters of the holographic window lay open to a garden overflowing with delicate flowers of every color. Resting on the imagined window ledge, the magistrate drank in the delicate perfume. Releasing a long sigh, he thought, This is how it used to be and how it will be again.

                His attendant, dressed in the drab homespun of an Outlander, offered a cup of wine. He bowed from the waist. “Difficult day, my lord?” 

                Detecting surliness in his voice, the Magistrate accepted the cup and studied his face. His attendant was usually pleasant, one could even say competent. He’d shared many a debate with the man, agreeing on nothing. For an Outlander, he was intelligent and arguably worth saving. Nevertheless, an edict had to be applied evenly. Only one wistful glance at the beauty beyond the window was sufficient to ratify his course. Swirling the wine in his cup, he noticed a defiant glance.

               “You know what’s being done, don’t you?”

                The attendant stiffened. “We are given provisions for a journey and told that a perfect settlement for Outlanders has been readied. Its décor is plain and utilitarian as our traditions mandate. But the directions to this nirvana are faulty, or false, and Outlanders are unfamiliar with the terrain outside the City walls—as you well know. In truth, the path goes through the sinking land. We go to certain death. Officially, we are missing, as if we deviated from the directions.”  The Magistrate winced. “We’re not responsible for the lost ones.” 

                The Magisterium’s unanimous edict had been rendered after an intense, but brief, debate. The Magistrate had his moral doubts, but the situation had deteriorated to where reprehensible acts were the only available course. It was kill or be killed. The City’s natives had revolted because the Outlander influence had, they said, ruined their culture. Their society used to be filled with colorful gardens of magnificent beauty, and people wore colorful garments. Music was played everywhere. Now, the beautiful life remained only in hiding. Over time, the Outlanders’ population had reached a tipping point within the City’s walls, and they’d bullied and used their demonstrations to eradicate all that the natives considered beautiful. It was as if a revolution had occurred, stealthily and silently, without anyone even knowing there was a war afoot.          “Not lost. Purged.”

“So,” the Magistrate probed, “is the so-called purge―I admit nothing―common belief among your kind?” The Magisterium had designed the cleansing for secrecy and for avoiding distasteful handson bloodshed, thinking that the Outlander bodies would sink into the bogs without a trace. Nature was responsible. But knowledge meant resistance. His stomach knotted. I must warn the Magisterium.

                “We all know.”

               The Magistrate’s mind raced. We must accelerate the purge. They outnumber us.

The attendant fumed, “You brought us here.”

                The Magistrate narrowed his eyes, annoyed that his guilt was so apparent. “We made short term offers for work that we ourselves could no longer perform. We needed labor and we were willing to afford Outlanders excellent hospitality in return. Your forebears accepted—the offers were the mistake of the old regime. The bargain was made for expediency, and we miscalculated how much you’d breed, as well as how little we would. Before the violence began, we ignored the imbalance and your growing resistance to our authority. We sought to placate you by leaving you alone. Outlanders migrated into ever more neighborhoods, using their numbers for intimidation. Who could have foreseen that you’d ban our wonderful gardens? We’re losing our identity. Since you don’t appreciate our culture, we must be rid of you. But you wouldn’t accept our incentives to leave. Violence could still be avoided.” 

               “We've nowhere to go. We’re generations away from our homeland.”

                “After extensions of our bargain, we assumed that you’d appreciate our beauty and become one with us. How can anyone not appreciate beauty? It’s unthinkable.”

                The attendant taunted, “You have no right to design your life. Your inability to walk is punishment. Without us, you’ve lost the ability to survive.”

                The Magistrate snapped, “You’re fanatical. In coming here to work, Outlanders knew we were the flower people. From the start you must have had a grand design. This is our homeland and beauty defines us. We will take it back.”

The attendant chuckled. “You’re the fanatical ones. We are returning this land to its pristine

state.”

“To barrenness? You want us to change? We built the City a millennium ago.”

               The attendant stared coldly. “It’s only fair. You owe us.”

                “No we don’t. We had a bargain.”

                “You didn’t know the real bargain.”

 “We never imagined that nature would create creatures that couldn't appreciate its beauty.” The irritated Magistrate caused his pillow to rise in hasty escape, but the attendant punctured it with a curl of his lip. 

                “We are unstoppable.”

                “What exactly is your world view?” We should have seen this coming, but we didn't think their rebellion was an existential threat. It spread further than we knew.

                “It is whatever I say it is.” Producing a serrated knife from within the folds of his gown, he jabbed the fleshy Magistrate in the stomach.  

               Collapsing, the Magistrate lamented his City of flowers. We acted too late. For beauty!

                 

Authors Cave

I'm proud to have COLONY EARTH featured on the Authors Cave E-zin for January 2015.

http://www.authorscave.com/ezine.asp

Blog Hop: Author Jeffrey Von Glahn Ph.D

BOOK BLURB:
Jessica had always been haunted by the fear that the unthinkable had happened when she had been “made-up.” For as far back as she could remember, she had no sense of a Self. Her mother thought of her as the “perfect infant” because “she never wanted anything and she never needed anything.” As a child, just thinking of saying “I need” or “I want” left her feeling like an empty shell and that her mind was about to spin out of control. Terrified of who––or what––she was, she lived in constant dread over being found guilty of impersonating a human being. 

Jeffrey Von Glahn, Ph.D., an experienced therapist with an unshakable belief in the healing powers of the human spirit, and Jessica, blaze a trail into this unexplored territory. As if she has, in fact, become an infant again, Jessica remembers in extraordinary detail events from the earliest days of her life––events that threatened to twist her embryonic humanness from its natural course of development. Her recollections are like listening to an infant who could talk describe every psychologically dramatic moment of its life as it was happening. 

When Dr. Von Glahn met Jessica, she was 23. Everyone regarded her as a responsible, caring person – except that she never drove and she stayed at her mother’s when her husband worked nights. 

For many months, Jessica’s therapy was stuck in an impasse. Dr. Von Glahn had absolutely no idea that she was so terrified over simply talking about herself. In hopes of breakthrough, she boldly asked for four hours of therapy a day, for three days a week, for six weeks. The mystery that was Jessica cracked open in dramatic fashion, and in a way that Dr. Von Glahn could never have imagined. Then she asked for four days a week – and for however long it took. In the following months, her electrifying journey into her mystifying past brought her ever closer to a final confrontation with the events that had threatened to forever strip her of her basic humanness.

Author Q & A *What do you hope the world will learn from your book?​ That emotional/psychological development starts at birth – and perhaps even sooner. What can possibly be more important than knowing the optimal conditions for an infant’s physical and psychological development? From my point of view, all of the social/economic/political issues in the world are actually people problems; ones that people who are more psychologically healthy than not would never allow to happen. The well-known humanistic psychologist from the The Sixties, Abraham Maslow, wrote that what we think of as psychologically healthy is really a mild psychopathology of the average that’s so commonplace that we don’t recognize it as such. I agree 100%. Also, the overall field of mental health and the practice of psychotherapy in particular will be far more effective than it is if crying is viewed as a powerful healing experience.  *What was so profound about your patient Jessica that compelled you to write this story? Her remembering and recovering from psychologically hurtful events from the earliest days of her life is, by far, the most astounding human experience I know of. I am so fortunate that Jessica didn’t give up on me as her therapist and made her bold request for multiple-hour sessions for several days a week. If she hadn’t, this book would never have been written. *Is this your first book? It’s my first published book. I spent three years writing a novel before I started writing Jessica. The time frame was 35 years in the future, actually 2015! In 1980, a Ph.D. psychologist, aged 85, was the presidential candidate of the People’s party. With a month to go before the election and tied for the lead in the polls, he mysteriously disappeared. In 2015, a young Ph.D. psychologist is writing a book about him. He gets too close to finding out why that happened when he meets his new girlfriend’s grandfather, and then he also suddenly disappears. It had an agency-wide review by a top literary agent because he couldn’t make up his mind, but he declined to take it. He said the idea of dual-protagonists wasn’t viable. I thought it was quite clever. I immediately started writing Jessica. Since the 1990s, I’ve had 6 professional articles in psychotherapy journals, all on the method of treatment I used with Jessica. *How long have you been writing? Seriously, since 1977. Started with a few short stories. Wrote several over a year or two, never had one published, although a few people I knew who were able to have an objective opinion thought I showed “some talent.” One said that what most impressed her was how the next sentence picked up on what was implied in the previous one, and the writing just flowed. That knack of paying attention subtle cues is a direct result of being a therapist. *What can we expect from you next? Two possibilities. A small book for the public, tentatively titled: Saving psychotherapy from itself. Very briefly, the mental health system doesn’t believe in emotional release, such as crying, as having any long term benefit. From my view, the MH system is in the same state that medicine was in before the discovery of microorganisms and antibiotics; i.e., there’s no clear understanding of what causes problems and what cures them. The MH system thinks too much in terms of physical causes and medications. The other idea is tentatively titled: Cooperation or competition: Which would you choose? In short, what would a society be like if the purpose of government was to promote the physical and social welfare of its citizens compared to one that based on competition? *Since Jessica, have you explored with other patients their recounts of memories from infancy? No. That’s never happened again. I don’t ask; it has to come up in a spontaneous way. It’s actually quite rare. There’s just a few books and articles about remembering being born, and there’s a professional association: The Association for Prenatal and Perinatal Psychology and Health. The book about Jessica stands alone. There’s nothing that even comes close. *Since this is a topic new to most, how do you think your findings about Jessica's recounts of her infancy are being received by the general public? I haven’t received sufficient feedback from enough people. Until very recently, it’s only spread by word of mouth. I've been too involved in academic writing. Undoubtedly, women will be more interested and supportive than men. It has received a strong recommendation from an entertainment company as a potential movie for the theater or TV, but as yet no contract. I always imagined a TV movie; never entertained the idea of a film – still don’t. *Have you encountered those who didn't "believe" that this story was in fact based on true events? Not yet, but I’m 100% certain it will happen. I’m ready with a response: What would convince you that it is or isn’t true? After the person answers, I’ll give mine. I was there. I saw the very positive effect it had on her life. *Have you encountered those who said "There is no way an infant can remember anything about its birth?" I don’t think I've ever met anyone in person who adamantly said so. There have been several who found it hard to believe. I immediately agree with them. There are plenty of my professional colleagues who don’t think it’s possible. The first known article about it appeared in a medical journal in France in the 1890s! *What is Jessica's relationship with her mom today? Her mother passed away at age 58 in 1990 (Jessica and I met in 1977). She had a very, very difficult childhood, which Jessica was very aware of. Jessica had great respect for her dedication to raising five children as a single parent, starting when the oldest was 8. When I interviewed Dorothy, the only question I asked her was: “I wonder if you tell me whatever you remember about what Jessica was like as an infant.” For various reasons, I didn't mention any of Jessica’s other recalls. Jessica had already told her about remembering her birth, to which Dorothy’s immediate response was, “I never told you any of that!” *How is Jessica doing/coping today? She has completely recovered from her various fears/phobias/etc. Despite all that,   she always found a way to cope, though no one ever knew what was going on inside of her. Her various fears were just tolerated by those few who actually knew about them. After graduating from college with honors in her early 30s, while working part-time and raising a daughter, she’s had a very successful twenty-five year career where she interacted in an engaging and ongoing way with many people of varying ages and backgrounds. She also obtained two graduate degrees in her field. She is very active in her community, and has won awards/recognition for her activities. She has developed many deeply satisfying relationships with others, including a number from different backgrounds. They are all quite envious of her ability to understand human behavior, especially infants. They are all also envious of her ability to have a quick, deep cry, 15-20 seconds, and look so refreshed and immediately get back to what she had been doing. Married for a second time at 42. Lost her husband to cancer seven years later. Didn’t have any more children. My fervent wish is that someday a book will be published about her life and her therapy from her perspective.

PURCHASE LINKS:

"JESSICA:  THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INFANT" by Jeffrey Von Glahn  http://www.amazon.com/Jeffrey-Von-Glahn-Ph-D/e/B007X6UNP6/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1420255689&sr=1-2

CONTACT INFO:

Twitter:  @JeffreyVonGlahn

Website: http://JeffreyVonGlahn.com

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