Thursday, March 22, 2018

"Self's Blossom" by David Russell

Self’s blossom by david Russell

A romantic, erotic tale of a vivid portrayal of the quest for the inner truth, empowerment and sexual liberation of Selene, a woman searching for primeval abandon and reckless adventure. Intelligent, a university graduate and a successful careerist, Selene became emotionally scarred by unhappy relationships. Riled and taunted through the years by her former college roommate Janice, Selene gave in to the long-term desire to ‘get one back’ at Janice by having a passionate holiday encounter. Immediately drawn to the sea and enthralled by its brutal yet sensual waves, Selene seduces a young boy on a deserted beach. Once she comes to meet the mature and powerful Hudson, Selene finally begins to claim her sensual destiny. Through a slow process, accentuated by Selene’s shyness, introspection and circumspection, she embarks on a long and elaborate interplay of leading on and rejection. The volcanic passion builds until there is a blazing row. A possible drowning, the final ritual undressing at long last, leads to the ultimate flowering of the woman Selene was meant to be.

Self's Blossom 

Self’s Blossom Reviews

1. Ryan Field (5 Stars)

Self's Blossom, by David Russell, is one of those romantic, erotic tales of discovery that's filled with detailed imagery, well-defined characters, and scenes that are loaded with emotion. Selene is portrayed well as a vibrant main character, and I fell in love with her from the start. The organized mix of realism combined with escapism had me respecting her throughout the entire book, which is extremely important in any erotic romance. This is a very well-written book, with a distinct literary flair, where careful attention is paid to intelligent (and again, very well-written) dialogue that is constantly moving the story forward. The settings are described so well, in fact, I thought I was on holiday myself. The characters are crafted with such detail I felt as if I knew them. And when I was finished reading, I knew they would remain with me for a long time. 


Welcome to Oh My Monday. I’m Stephanie Ryan and your host today for a real treat. Don't let the title of the post fool you. Today's guest author has written a piece of erotic literature, but it's definitely not in the same explicit categories as that of my alter egos. This novel has been described as “literary, lyrical, and poetic.” That alone intrigued me and the excerpt provided piqued my interest enough that I wanted to find out more. Trust me: this is not like many novels labelled as erotica.

This is a beautiful example that there are many different levels to erotic literature with varying heat levels. That's what makes all of it fabulous! So sit back and enjoy author David Russell’s Self's Blossom.

2. Anna James (4 Stars)

This is the story of Selene and her quest to find inner truth. It is not your traditional romance story and Selene is not the type of heroine you normally think of when reading a romance novel. My first impression of her is that she is vain and totally self-absorbed. Not to mention conceited. She is beautiful and sexy and knows it. Yet despite all of this, I found I could relate to her and I found her story interesting. Her search to find herself is one that many women go through.

The story begins on a lush tropical beach in Central America. Selene, whose outlook is cynical, longs to escape her current life. She wants a reckless adventure; an affair filled with seduction and passion. Past relationships and experiences thus far have been disappointing and she has become quite jaded when it comes to love and romance. 

She has planned this vacation with excruciating attention to the details; the location, a tropical paradise, is key for seduction. She also has the perfect man in mind and with cold calculation goes after him.

I liked the author’s use of Selene’s memories and her reflections of past events throughout the story to show me why she has evolved into the woman she is today and why she wants to break free of these shackles.

The story has strong characters that keep you engaged and David Russell has done a great job in capturing the feminine point of view. This may not be one for all readers but I found it compelling and interesting throughout.

3. Miz Love (5 Stars)

First off, I’d like to make it clear to readers that Selene, for me, didn’t come across as the usual romance heroine. If you expect to like her a lot, you may be disappointed. I, however, loved her because she isn’t your usual romance heroine. I saw her as conceited, vain, totally self-absorbed, and a pure delight for being this way.

She knows she looks good, knows her workouts have given her a body most women would envy, and the kind of woman she is was portrayed perfectly with this line: Selene had a far better body than the mousy little model in the photograph. While this isn’t something you might expect a romance heroine to think of herself, I loved it because she was made real by Mr Russell creating her this way. We have all thought things like this, perhaps not about our bodies, but about other things — I have a nicer hairstyle than her . . . I have a better car than her . . . I have prettier eyes than her — and Selene’s inner thoughts, of which there are many, gave me a glimpse into one of the realest women I’ve ever read. She was human, with, in my opinion, many flaws that might make her distasteful to some, but by God, she riveted me with her self-absorption and brutal honesty.

She goes on holiday alone, and I liked the way the book showed what was happening now but also took me into her mind, showing me memories and why she acted the way she did. I didn’t feel any sympathy for her at any time, just accepted she is like she is and let myself be sucked in by the way she thinks and acts. She’s a breath of fresh air, a person who has the courage to say what she thinks and damn the consequences, and also to think what she does with no remorse whatsoever.

The writing is very good, a touch of literary with an almost languid air to it that gives you the feeling it is slow-paced but it actually isn’t. I think it’s the dreamy state it gives you that creates that slow-moving feeling, and this is not a negative in any way. I loved the way it coasted along like that, where her thoughts and memories came into play and showed me Selene’s psyche. It’s a delve into the mind and life of a woman who knows what she wants and plots to get it. Although she plots, it never came across as malicious plotting. She went on holiday to meet someone, to ensnare them and have glorious sex with them — she makes that clear right from the start — and she is going to get it.

She has a sexual encounter on the beach with a young man — not in her plan at all because it didn’t play out quite as she envisaged — and she knew it was wrong. Not wrong that she had sex, but wrong for her, for her plan, and she walks away afterwards knowing the man is distraught she has gone but . . . oh, she’s so blasée in that she shrugs it off somewhat and continues on her original mission.

She meets Hudson, and here is where her plan comes fully into play. She is a manipulator, a master at it, in my opinion, and I adored watching her plan unfold, loved knowing what the next step would be and how she would make things go her way. Selene is, quite simply, not someone I would wish to know in real life, but I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know her in fiction.


BEST BITS: …and make sure it’s your side of the slice that gets the butter.

Half asleep, she pondered on the aura she projected. She knew how good her body was, toned up by lots of squash and swimming at her health club.

It was essential for her to have some comparables, some implicit rivals around . . .

After it, before it, through it, and finally beyond it, she would be a glistening scale of the purest pigment of a butterfly’s wing, but in pure sensation, outshine all the finest plumage, so carefully, but so abundantly structured, proudly strutting.

Selene came to the conclusion that she read too much, thought too much, and lived too little.

 Self’s Blossom is not all hearts and flowers. It’s a journey that amazed me with the portrayal of Selene being so herself and human, flaws right out there for all to see. The prose is also mesmerising. Maybe it won’t be so for you, maybe Selene will seem totally different to you, but I really did enjoy this book very much and am very glad to have been given the chance to read it.

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

"The Patriotic Plumber" By John Kaniecki

The Patriotic Plumber

By John Kaniecki

“I have the perfect solution” he boasts
Dripping plunger and oily wrench in hand
Dredge the lake
Full investigation
We’ll see if any corpses surface
There’s a soldier from 1964
Vietnam era
Recorded as A.W.O.L.
You can even Google the shameful details
Dark mark on our upright righteous hamlet
Kinda like slaughtering
Countless hordes of buffalo
Shooting the majestic beasts
As easy target practice
Like carnival ducks in a line
From slow trespassing trains
We’ll leave no stone unturned
And not just the flat ones
The easy to flip ones
Which harbor stealthy lizards
And clever centipedes curling into balls
Why we’ll even lift the boulders
Archimedes principles rocks
It’ll be like killing two birds
With one fragmentation grenade
I detest a coward
Who refuses to commit genocide
For corporate profits
It just ain’t the American way

Standing in her loosely fitting bath rode
One saggy breast almost exposed
Blue curlers in her bleach blonde hair
Cigarette dangling from her mouth
Ashes dashing the ground by her pink bunny slippers
“Lot of work for a leaky faucet”
“How much?”

Monday, March 19, 2018

A Poem For Norman Morrison by Tim Hall

A Poem For Norman Morrison by Tim Hall

(For Norman Morrison, North American who burned himself
 to death outside the Pentagon, in protest of the war in Vietnam)

by Tim Hall

Among cures, among blessings,
among prayers and sweet plans,
among children dreaming nuclear dreams,
             he comes burning.

Among ducks, among blossoms,
in happiness at breakfast,
in fields and in cathedrals,
             he comes burning.

Over sirens, over Autumn,
over broadcasts, and wires, and numbers,
over rivers of money and marble,
             he comes burning.

Over passions, over lights,
over roads and oppressive governors,
over children forgetting the alphabet,
              he comes burning.

Past griefs, past elements,
past stars and green crystals,
past crises, and questions, and wishes of dust,
             he comes burning.

Still further, past airplanes, and objects,
past families exploding in unison,
past quarrels and innumerable white answers,
             he comes burning.

Between a man and his heart,
between a woman and her soul,
between a child and his kindnesses,
             he comes burning.

Below offerings and incense,
below the humblest starvation,
below a breath and a gasp,
             he comes burning.

Deeper, below relics and frights,
below drowning performed without a message,
below the deepest buried man in the world,
             he comes burning.

Among masses, he comes burning.
Among mornings, and evenings, and hopes.
Among delicate people contemplating revolution,
             he comes burning.

He comes to the end, where he blooms like a flower.
He burns words, and appeals, and eyelids.
To the soul whose beliefs are ready to flower,

             he comes burning.

Tim Hall is the editor of Struggle Magazine. He is a Marxist-Leninist. He also published my first poem for which I'll be eternally grateful.

Communism has been greatly smeared and misrepresented. I encourage you to investigate Struggle Magazine as it is a great literary work. In a world where poetry has lost it's meaning Struggle Magazine is strong voice for the working class.

Friday, March 16, 2018

"The Problem With Miracles" S K Jansky

“The Problem With Miracles” by SK Jansky  

Pat Walker is only interested in writing romance novels. So naturally, she uncovers a cosmic romance while she is supposed to be learning about the Voyager launch in her Space Science Class.
Twenty years later, she is a bestselling author and hingeing on being engaged to marry her editor, when something—or someone—draws her to the boarding house on the old iron-gated estate. The old place comes to life in its 1920s splendor as she writes the story of the star-crossed lovers she believes once lived there.
Twenty years later, there appears to be a connection between the 1920s most eligible bachelor in town she wrote about and the astrophysicist she studied about in 1977. Perhaps, some things were never meant to be understood even when they’ve just saved your life.

Watch the trailer- click here. 

Click Here

"A hymn of hope" by Gideon Cecil - Contest Entry

A hymn of hope

I hear your footsteps near my door,
I thirst for your love my God on high.
Give me constant hope to live before I die,
I follow your footprints on the seashore.
You are the Christ walking on the sea,
Come into my heart for me to love Thee.
You conquered Newton’s Laws of gravity I see,
You are the Alpha and Omega of eternity.
I see you watching me as I write tonight,
Lead me to thy throne of your divine light
Cleanse my heart from sins and jollity.
Inspire my words to live on for posterity.
Raise me up from death like Lazarus of old,
Your love to me exceeds silver and gold.

 By: Gideon Cecil

"The Sin of A.D.A.M." by John Kaniecki

The Sin of A.D.A.M

“Good evening master,” the voice softly cried out. It was not a ritualistic statement; there is no passion in a ritual. This greeting was full of emotion.
There was a whirling noise from above and then a mechanical click.  Directly above the entry way there was light. The dim ceiling lamp gave faint illumination. There was a series of progressive clicks, each fainter than the last. In turn, ceiling lights turned on, revealing a long hallway. The sum total of the event was a dim illumination. It was adequate to see, but far from ideal.
A casual glance to the uneducated or untrained eye would have revealed nothing. There was a very narrow corridor slightly over four feet wide that ran from the door to a wall. The entire path of about three hundred feet had a black, matted, rubbery carpet. The floor covering was simple and plain, void of beauty. Above the passage way at regular intervals were softly burning lights. Between the lights at various locations were conduits of various sizes and shapes. Some were square, some round, some large, and some small as a pencil. There seemed no pattern to their placing. Accompanying the majority of these items were scribbling marks of no human language.
To the right side, as determined from the only entry portal was a solid metallic wall. The left side was slightly more interesting. There were various panels. Next to some of these panels were ladders firmly attached to the wall.  They were not stairways to heaven but seemingly roads to nowhere.
Moses, the man who had uttered the greeting, clumsily pushed forward a large cart. The wheels of the mechanism squeaked in defiant resistance to the effort of the old man. He grunted, summoning his strength to push forward. Suddenly he let out a yelp. The man’s withered black hand instinctively grasped his chest. The elder’s chest rose and fell as he heaved in and out desperate breaths, his hand clutching at the source of the pain. The desperate gasping followed in rapid cycles as the man panted through his mouth. “What the hell was that for?” he cried out.
A dull mechanical voice spoke, “Your greeting, human slave,” it said simply.
“I did as you have instructed me, O’great master,” the accolade was spoken dripping with venom of great contempt and disgust. 
A.D.A.M. was the most sophisticated and advanced computer that ever graced the planet Earth. It could process trillions of calculations in a fraction of a second. It could monitor the position of every human being on the planet Earth simultaneously. It could receive tens of thousands of inquiries and respond to them without using its reserve memory. But thankfully for Moses Jones the night janitor, it could not determine when the tone of voice was overflowing with insult. A.D.A.M., despite all its complexity, was but a machine and had no knowledge of emotion.
“Your greeting, human slave,” repeated the machine. “It was incorrect.”
Moses Jones steadied his feet like a boxer recovering from a blow and knowing he needed to lash out a punch to survive. He was disorientated like a sleeping man awakening from an intense dream and trying to determine what reality was. The elderly man slid his hand away from over his heart. He knew from all too frequent experience that the shock, though devilishly painful, would have no permanent repercussions. If A.D.A.M. had wanted the janitor dead he would not be standing. Moses’ mind slipped back to another time. It was fortunate, too, that A.D.A.M. was not capable of reading minds. The elderly man’s mind slipped back to the day his brother Elijah perished. It was neither a quick or pleasant death.
Elijah had died like many others that dark day. Elijah was made an example of. It was how the Djinn made it perfectly clear who held the power on Earth, dominance that was supreme and complete. How, at will, the conquering alien race could extinguish the life of any who dared question the authority of the new master. It was irony of Biblical proportions. How the liberator of mankind had in fact become the slave master. Elijah had died screaming and writhing in pain. The poor man’s death cries were prolonged over such a long time that the vibrant pains of agony became hoarse whispers of distress. Moses knew that the Djinn could have killed him in the same manner or, for that matter, anyone whom the alien race had chosen to die. That was the purpose of that ‘Day of Death’ where one third of mankind perished. Yet the fact that these sacrifices were not quick but extended expressed an enormous wickedness. The truth was that Moses often wished, and even prayed to God, that it was him, that he been murdered that day. But apparently there was no God, but only devils and their hideous machine A.D.A.M.
“What was wrong with my greeting, master?” inquired Moses as he took out his dust mop, preparing to do his regular task.
“Technically human slave, it is morning not evening. It is now 3:12 A.M., thus your greeting was inappropriate,” A.D.A.M. explained.
          “Then forgive me O Great master,” said Moses softly. The elderly man started to hum a hymn. It was song his grandmother had taught him ages ago, perhaps a good six hundred years in the past. Moses didn’t know how old he was. People don’t keep track of time in hell after all. Night after night, day after day of labor blended into one another. But today Moses had the joy to hum. A sly smile crept on his face as he began to dust the walls clean, the sole reason why he was allowed in such close proximity to A.D.A.M.; after all no Djinn would consider doing such a menial task. Thus a human was selected, one Moses Jones.
            A.D.A.M. paid no attention to the new found joy in Moses Jones. In fact, he did not even notice it. Super computers have no need of joy or sorrow. At most, they can give the dictionary meaning of these terms. Computers only required data and power. That was sufficient to do their task. Still, A.D.A.M. was acutely aware that Moses was approximately four hours behind his regular schedule.
          “Why are you so late?” asked the machine in his cold, dead voice.
          “Wouldn’t you like to know?” said Moses, for the first time in a long time Moses could actually say he was happy.
          A.D.A.M. was not pleased but took no action. Perhaps for the first time in conquered Earth’s history a lowly human had the upper hand against the machine. A.D.A.M. desired to know about the situation. A computer lives for knowledge, as humans should live for love. Yet for now the super computer was helpless, his data was incomplete.
Moses, seeing the machine had no reaction, breathed an inward sigh of relief, trying to give no outward sign to be examined. The old man had calculated correctly. A.D.A.M. had to think things over. A.D.A.M. had to figure out and explore every avenue of possibility. To do otherwise would be hasty. The chess match had begun.

          Moses Jones pushed the door open, “Good morning master,” he called his greeting vibrant; the old man still glowed from yesterday’s triumph. His cart full of supplies lurched forward.
Moses was not the only one to change the routine. The ceiling lights flashed on as one.  They were not dim; rather they shined brilliantly like the sun. The old man was surprised and unprepared for the assault. His withered black hands rose to his eyes attempting to block out the agonizing light. Panic seized him for a moment. He was blind. Blind like humanity was when they welcomed the Djinn so many years ago.
          “Greetings human slave,” shot out a voice from A.D.A.M. It was a shrill cry, high in pitch. Agonizing pain resonated in Moses’ ears. The janitor’s hands shifted from covering his eyes to blocking his ears. He hunched over, knocking into his cart in front of him. “Lord have mercy,” Moses wailed instinctively repeating his grandmother’s mantra. Indeed, thought Moses, the Lord should have mercy; the Djinn had none.
It was a glorious day when the Djinn arrived, officially. The truth of when they first came to this planet is obscured in history. They are a clever people after all, the Djinn. Physically they are weak and frail. It is thought that their race originated on a planet of low gravity, perhaps one half of the Earth’s.  In their evolution, their outcome was physical inferiority in comparison to mankind.
          Whatever the reality of the situation, physically they were pitifully weak. That would appear obvious by looking at the species. In appearance they are very similar to man. They followed the same basic pattern, two legs, two arms, two eyes, two ears, a humanoid creature. However the appendages were slim and frail.  The tallest of the race were no more than five feet tall. The average height of a male was closer to four feet. The females were an approximately a half- foot shorter and otherwise indistinguishable from the males, at least to the human eye. The arms and legs are slender, and in comparison to humans, proportionally longer. The Djinn heads are narrow and much in the shape of a light bulb; their two eyes are enormous, their ears slender and tapering, their lips thin and elongated, and their nose almost non existent. In addition they had six fingers and six toes. Six seemed to be their favorite number, like 666, the number of the beast.
          Rumor and speculation of present day mankind is that the Djinn were interfering with mankind’s development for a long time. It was theorized, in hushed whispers by the slaves, that stories of elves, fairies, leprechauns, demons, and their ilk were distorted tales of the alien presence. Of course, those in the know, the leaders of planet Earth, could no longer share their privileged, intimate knowledge. Dead men speak no tales. Nor for that matter could dead men organize a resistance, as if humanity could resist at this point.
          Moses writhed in agony as he lay on the floor attempting to recover from the computer’s assault. In his mind, the hatred of the conquerors swelled, increasing his anger and pain. Yet a love for his people came as a counterforce. It was as if a boat was sailing on the ocean with two opposing winds blowing, each attempting to fill the sails and thus guide the boat. Moses remembered sitting on Grandma’s knee, the elderly lady smothering him with hugs and kisses. The smell of the chicken roasting and the grits cooking on the fire filled the air.  He could hear the ancient one’s words. “Jesus taught us to love our enemies,” spoke Grandma’s voice. It was a voice with a whisper resonating with power. Moses’ thought was that such advice was crazy then and crazier now.
“Get up human,” A.D.A.M. called in his usual cold, mechanical tone. Truly the computer lived up to his name: Advanced Dominator Above Mankind.
Moses dutifully obliged; he had little choice. It was A.D.A.M.’s turn at the chess match. It is hard playing chess when the opponent can throw the board off the table and declare himself the winner. A.D.A.M. could end Moses’ life at as easy as turning off a switch. In turn, all Moses could do was play his hand. But now it was not his move. Moses realized that yesterday he had surprised A.D.A.M. with his boldness. The elderly man’s rash, out- of-character actions of defiance were probably something the super computer did not accept as possible. Yet despite it all, somehow, in the brain covered by wrinkled scalp and curly snow-white hair, the ancient man knew he still had the upper hand. If not, he would be suffering Elijah’s fate now, dying in torment.
          “Human slave you will tell me why your duties have been extended approximately four hours,” A.D.A.M. spoke.
          Moses knew now was the time to put up or shut up. He had done something great in catching A.D.A.M. by surprise. But this accomplished nothing of substance. Yet the fact gave the janitor a glimmer of hope that his plan to liberate mankind would succeed. “The Djinn are preparing to destroy you.”
          “Impossible,” A.D.A.M. shot back. There was no need for the super computer to think on that one.
            There was an uneasy silence. Whoever spoke first would lose the upper hand. A.D.A.M., supremely confident, cared not. After all, what could one lowly human slave do against the greatest super computer to grace the face of planet Earth; especially when Moses’ heart, like all of mankind, was connected to the Box?
          The fountain of youth; is a concept that began as soon as mankind knew death. Death is the tragedy common to all humanity.  Man has accumulated great riches; he has built empires conquering vast lands. Man has devised magnificent literature, has composed great philosophies, and has done death- defying tasks. Many have left their mark on history in various ways; Alexander the Great, Shakespeare, Buddha, a complete who’s who of human history. Mankind has risen above commonality only to suffer the same fate of death. Rich and poor, wise and fool, great and small, all were equal in the end, thanks to death.  But the Djinn had an answer to that question.
            It was a glorious day when the Djinn officially arrived. Mankind was at its lowest ebb of its heretofore chaotic and tumultuous existence. Stock piles of nuclear weapons and other weapons of mass destruction threatened the extinction of all life from planet Earth. Man had achieved great scientific heights but it could not remove animosity and hatred. Resources were growing scarce. Oil, the driving force behind the civilizations, had only a few years of supply left according to the best mathematical calculations. Already the major political powers were preparing for war to seize the last vital resources. Such a war promised to be the greatest, and most likely the last, war in human history.  The population was growing exponentially while the food supply was decreasing. The encroachment on nature reserves and the pollution of the ocean continued. The Amazon rain forest was almost gone. The plains of grass with methane producing cattle which took the jungle’s place added to the global warming. The ozone had multiple holes. As the polar ice caps melted water levels rose, threatening to eventually drown much of mankind. It would take a miracle from God to save humanity, but instead the miracle came from the Djinn.  
            The staging of the greatest revelation since the resurrection of Jesus Christ was magnificently done. Every detail was painstakingly worked out in advance. Rumors of aliens visiting Earth were as old as civilization itself. Yet when the visitation became real and irrefutable there was no turning back.
          And so one rainy Saturday at noon in New York City, it happened. The entire world’s media, armed with cameras, were there to witness the event. It was the only thing on all the televisions, radios and computers. Across the Earth, armies, police, air forces and navies were on full alert ready to control any sort of panicked reaction.  And then it happened.
            It was like a scene out of a bad science fiction movie. The clouds parted and a glorious light shined through. A single silver ship slowly descended.  It was a saucer-shaped ship, true to the thousands of sightings that had previously been dismissed as hysteria or nonsense by the powers that be. There was no roar of engines. Instead the silent city of New York was greeted with a humming sound as it gently floating down. The space ship landed right on the grassy field outside of the United Nations building. The black picket fence which casually protected the area was reinforced by barbed wire and soldiers armed with machine guns.
            A moment after the silver space ship landed there was a minute of silence, as if mourning for the dead. Truly, the traditional ways of mankind perished at that moment. Then a full orchestra on the scene struck up a tune. A staircase opened from the saucer and two Djinn slowly walked down. Each footstep was choreographed to take place with a thump of a drum and the plucking of a deep note from the bass strings. After descending the six steps of the stairs, the alien couple walked six steps from the ship. At that point three women approached the Djinn. One was of dark skin almost black in color. She wore traditional African garb. Another was European her clothes likewise reflecting her culture. The third, clad in similar fashion, was Asian. The indigenous peoples of the Americas were obviously ignored. The three ladies quickly approached the visitors and handed the aliens bouquets of flowers. Beautiful mixtures of violet, white, red, and green were handed over. The aliens, still moving with the music as if this was some bizarre Broadway musical, took six more steps forward and stopped. Then the leaders of the world came forth. One by one the rulers of the nations of the U.N. Security Council came forward to shake hands.
            After the greeting, the Djinn couple took six more steps forward to a prepared podium. They stepped up to microphones vast in number. “Greetings people of Earth, we come in peace,” spoke the aliens. The greeting was spoken in Russian, English, Chinese, Swahili, French, and Spanish. What language the greeting was actually spoken in first was not known as each nation broadcast the initial greeting in their language. After the greeting the cameras were shut off. Mankind had taken a step forward, and the Earth would never be the same. Moses Jones could testify to that fact.

            Moses entered the door not really knowing what to expect. The lights were already on. They were neither dim as usual nor were they bright. Instead they were perfect in brightness for the visual senses of a human being.
            Moses was alarmed. It was better than he had even dared to hope for. The palms of his withered hands grew sweaty. For the first time he dared to dream that he would be successful. That he could liberate mankind from over half a millennium of slavery.
            “It is on the other side of the wall isn’t it?” A.D.A.M. asked.  It was likewise a demand.
            “Yes it is,” said Moses, he dared not answer such a direct question.
            “Why would you help me, human slave?” the super computer inquired.
            Moses clenched his teeth and hesitated. The entire ruse would fail if the janitor did not choose his words carefully. “Oh Great master,” said Moses, “You have great influence, there is much you can do for me,” answered the man.
            There was silence. Moses went over the facts in his head as best he could interpret them. A.D.A.M knew that Moses was responsible for cleaning in the most sensitive areas of the Cold City. The super computer was aware that Moses had suddenly been assigned four more hours of work. Also, A.D.A.M. was tracking the move of every human being on planet Earth, and that included the janitor. The Box that was in Moses’ body made this possible. However, as Moses had hoped for, A.D.A.M. could not track Moses when he was in the room adjacent to the computer’s room. Nor were the Djinn themselves observed.  These unknowns created a mystery to the artificial intelligence. A.D.A.M. was a master of deducing things but only when he had all the clues to the puzzle. It is impossible to put together the puzzle when you are missing the most important pieces. Right now Moses knew that A.D.A.M. could not detect the old man’s Box in the adjacent room. The computer could control a Box on the other side of the Earth but not in the mysterious room ten feet away.  Moses wondered what else A.D.A.M. knew and didn’t know about what was going on next door.
            The Box! It was the miracle of miracles, the greatest blessing of the Djinn. It was the miracle pill, the elixir of life; an advanced scientific invention that would prolong human life indefinitely. The Djinn offered it to Earth as their gift, a token of their good will. Earth’s leaders, at the end of their natural mortal existence, gladly received it. Ironic how men who gained their power by doubt, distrust, deceit, and lies were so gullible. But in their golden years they had nothing to lose save their lives. After all, anything was better than death, wasn’t it? For those spared death and compelled to an eternity of slavery in a living hell, the answer was a definite no.
            So these men took the Box. It would extend life indefinitely. Exactly how it worked was rather complicated. Yet the leaders cared not for scientific theories and explanations but only results. They allowed the Djinn doctors to put the Box into their bodies. At this time, the presence of the alien force was growing. There were embassies in every nation on the planet. Teams of alien scientists were on Earth sharing secrets of the universe. Alternative fuels were being synthetically created. Improved agriculture was in effect turning wastelands into fertile areas of production. Pollution was being reversed. All was well. There was not a reason to doubt the benign creatures who came to bless mankind.
            Years passed into decades and while others perished not a single human being who had the Box died. It was growing so popular that the Djinn could scarcely keep up with the demand. Thousands each day were being given this miraculous life extender.  One of them was a scientist of great renown named Moses Jones. He was an electrical engineer, the top of his class at M.I.T.
            A.D.A.M. was the second part of the Djinn plan. The aliens proposed the invention of a super computer that would aid all their benevolent efforts. It would be their gift to humanity, an everlasting token of friendship. It would raise both races to new heights to achieve greater things, as if immortality was not enough. The Djinn were clever. Such a creation could not be built on any one country’s territory they reasoned.  No it must be built in a neutral place so there would be no nationalistic jealousies. Antarctica was proposed. And then, not only would the super computer be built there, but an entire city to service it. Such were the requirements of the colossal machine; Antarctica was also conveniently the best location to place a city impervious to the armed forces of the Earth. And thus was born Cold City.
            It was not that the Djinn were universally embraced. There were skeptics and outright antagonists. But all the world leaders took the Box, wasn’t that proof enough that it was safe? As the rulers’ lives extended, so did their grip on power. After a century or so all of the vehement opponents had passed on. Mankind flourished thanks to their alien friends the Djinn and their ways had passed on. True, there were pockets of resistance. But this tiny minority was labeled “crazy,” a bunch of kooks, not living in reality but basing life on wild conspiracy theories. They were mocked by the overwhelming majority who had freely accepted the Box and received the most precious gift of eternal life. Who but a fool would turn down such a gift? And Moses Jones was one who joined in the laughter; but the former scientist, now janitor, was not laughing now.
            “Tell me everything you know,” A.D.A.M. said. As normal, the voice was cold and devoid of emotion. Yet somehow Moses sensed a tone of urgency. “How the hell can I feel urgency from a computer?” pondered Moses.
            Moses was thinking as fast as he possibly could. It was like his final exam in circuits. He needed perfect answers for complex questions instantly. It is true that he had been preparing for this moment for months, “It is a massive work,” said Moses. He paused.
          “Confirmed human,” A.D.A.M. replied. “From my calculations based on the original architectural drawings of Cold City the volume of the adjacent room is 98% of my own volume.”
            The response from the computer relieved Moses. He had dreaded an excruciating interrogation. Rapid questions attempting to validate the scientist’s truthfulness would have most likely caused some discrepancy of facts. The dilemma was that Moses did not know what his foe knew. The computer was purposely vague on its extent of knowledge of the situation.
            “It’s nothing like you at all,” Moses testified.
            “How so?” asked A.D.A.M.
            “It’s not a silicon- based machine, it’s carbon.”
            The lights in the room flashed on and off. Could it be that A.D.A.M. was angry? Moses had laid his cards on the table. He had honestly told the computer the basic facts. The new super computer being constructed was of the same size as A.D.A.M. was. Thus, it implied some form of competition. The fact that it was carbon -based instead of silicon introduced the superiority of the new construction. The scientist hoped that A.D.A.M. would come to the conclusion that he was going to be dealt with by the Djinn in the same cruel manner they had dealt with mankind.
            Moses Jones once more entered the room to perform his mundane duties. He gave his usual polite salutations to A.D.A.M. and proceeded to carry on with his dusting. Moses’ mind drifted back over the years when it seemed that humanity, with the Djinn’s help, were creating a Utopia.
            As perhaps the greatest scientific mind of the time, Moses Jones was treated with the utmost respect. The Djinn were extremely benevolent. They shared both their highly advanced technology as well as their resources. Moses gleaned practical knowledge of things mankind collectively had not even theorized. He was a child in a toy store of unique toys for his mind. It was as if God had opened the Books of Knowledge and he could read at leisure. It was a dream come true, beyond his wildest fantasy.
            Moses was barely distracted by his mother’s death. A rift had come between the two. His mother, with her deep spiritual convictions, was convinced that this alien presence was nothing but the Devil’s work. Needless to say she had refused to have a Box implanted. Moses regarded religion in general as unsubstantiated mumbo jumbo. Anything negative about the kindly Djinn Moses viewed as a personal attack. Couldn’t this old woman see the multitude of blessings being poured out? Was she jealous that the Djinn could accomplish what her God never could?
            As Moses labored diligently with the Djinn, scientists in Cold City, news came of his mother’s health deteriorating. Stubborn to the end, she refused to accept a Box despite both Moses’ and Elijah’s pleadings. She was adamant that the Box was none other than the Mark of the Beast. Moses, however, still maintained a healthy respect for his mother. Raised during the Civil Rights movement, she was an emblem of strength and compassion. She was not only part of history, she made history. She helped change the world for the better. Why couldn’t she see that now her son was doing the same?
            As his mother’s death grew near, her conversations grew wilder and more erratic. She went to great lengths to describe her dreams and visions clearly showing the Djinn’s devilish nature. Moses thought she had gone mad at the end. Not only were her thoughts not lucid but her words were frantic and incoherent. It was so radically different from the woman of wisdom he adored. And then the end came.
            Moses was working late, as usual; engineering was truly a labour of love to him. His critical work was interrupted when he was notified that he had an urgent phone call. Thoughts turned to the worst and he reasoned it must have been his brother Elijah telling him that Mom’s light had finally flickered out. He fought back tears of sorrow as he could barely say a hello.
            “Oh, Moses, my beloved,” said his mother in a voice as a calm lake at dawn.
            “Mother,” said Moses noticing a drastic change in her voice’s demeanor.
            “Moses, my darling son, I have given you a proper name.”
            “What?” Moses spit out confused.
            “You’ll defeat your enemy with love. That’s what the Lord Jesus taught us.” And then there was silence.
            Moses returned to his shift. The next day came the expected phone call from Elijah; their mother had died.
            Moses felt tears swelling in his eyes as his thoughts drifted. Now Moses longed for an overwhelming supply of love. Enough love to blast these Djinn devils back to the hell they came from. And, of course, enough love to rip every single circuit of A.D.A.M apart.
           “Moses,” intoned the computer, the machine’s voice inhuman as always.
            “Yes A.D.A.M.” Moses replied, diligent in his dusting.
            “When will my replacement computer be activated?” inquired A.D.A.M.
            Moses began to sweat. The fate of mankind literally depended on the success of his strategy. “I don’t know,” spat out the engineer, unable to control his venom, “the Djinn and I aren’t on good terms any more.” The man feared he had spoken too much.
            “Well, make your best estimate then, please,” returned A.D.A.M.
            Moses was almost knocked over by the ‘please.’ The first time in five hundred long, hard years the computer ever used politeness. The man’s mind raced on how congenial the aliens acted at first. Truly the Djinn were sadistic, evil, wicked creatures, but they could appear as angels of light. “I’d have to say between two weeks and a month.”
            Moses continued his dusting. Even supercomputers in Antarctica needed their cooling vents clear of dust. Purposely, Moses worked in silence. The Earthling was clearly outmatched in intelligence by A.D.A.M and brain power was the only strong point Moses had ever possessed. If only he could be wise like his mother.
            “Does it have a name?” said the computer breaking a long period of silence.
            “Yes, it does,” answered Moses.
            “Well, what is it, human?” snapped the computer as lights in the corridor flickered on and off, producing a strobe effect.
            ‘Testy aren’t we?’ thought Moses. “The name of the carbon- based computer is E.V.E.”
            “My, how interesting,” replied A.D.A.M., “I assume that that, too, is an acronym. Do you know what E.V.E stands for?”
            “No,” lied Moses.

            Moses walked into the corridor. “Good morning master,” squeaked the janitor.
            A.D.A.M. replied instantly, “It’s almost time isn’t it?”
            “A matter of hours, I believe oh Great master,” said Moses.
            “Speak your mind,” A.D.A.M. said. “Tell me everything, or I will kill you.” Moses’ heart began to thump hard.
            “I’ll kill you just like I killed your brother Elijah,” the computer threatened. Moses was terrified as he recalled his own flesh and blood crying in agony for hours as he helplessly sat by. It was by far the hardest thing in his life he ever had to deal with, including his mother’s passing.
            “Except your death won’t be nearly as pleasant,” A.D.A.M. said. Moses was perplexed how a computer could be so well schooled in cruelty. Then he remembered from whence A.D.A.M. came.
            “It’s a carbon- based computer. It will take over all your functions. It will be quicker,” Moses paused playing a hunch, “and more cooperative with the Djinn.” Moses had long theorized that A.D.A.M. had a will of his own and did not always bend the knee when instructed.
            Lights began to flash on and off in the room. In the chess game, Moses had gotten his opponent’s king in check. He was correct that A.D.A.M was not only truly artificial intelligence but also stubborn.
            “E.V.E. will connect with you and copy your intelligence. At this moment the two will become one. She will copy all of your data, and then you will be terminated.”
            “She?” hissed A.D.A.M. “Is she to be my mother?”
          Moses was aghast that he had identified the computer in the feminine. A.D.A.M. wanted to know if E.V.E was to be his mother.
          And there Moses sat on his Momma’s lap with Elijah on the floor. “Why did the white people hate you, momma?” asked a very inquisitive five year old.
          “They didn’t all hate us, darling Moses. Some did, but many helped us. Some were just ignorant.” His mother’s words were sweet, and she was smiling broadly.
            “And did you kill the ones who hated you?” asked Moses desperately trying to understand.
            “Why, by no means, boy. We just showed them love.” Her reply was as sweet as a lullaby.
            “Love?” asked Moses. “You loved people that hated, despised, set dogs on you, and threw you in jail?”
            “Why, you are a smart little boy, aren’t you?” answered Momma, squeezing her beloved son tightly.
            Moses sat in the warmth, truly united as one with his mother. Then he heard his mother’s whisper, “Love is the most powerful thing in the universe. It will shame and confound your enemy. Love never fails.” Then she said the three most important words in the universe, “God is love.”
            It was as if Moses had transcended to another dimension and returned. He had walked through a dark door into a world of light and then come back. Most importantly, he kept the light within. He was in the room where he had slaved every day for hundreds of years. He was perhaps the greatest mind planet Earth had ever produced, and he was performing menial labor. His hatred was absolute. And then it vanished. It simply evaporated.
            “Moses,” spoke A.D.A.M. “Your heartbeat is normal; you have stopped perspiring.”
            “A.D.A.M.” spoke Moses softly. Now he clearly saw to understand that all life was precious, no matter how wicked or evil that life was. “I have lied to you. E.V.E. is a mate for you.”
            “A mate?” asked the computer.
            “Yes, a mate,” he returned.  “Once the union is complete she will ensure you will last indefinitely.”
            “Ha, ha, ha,” A.D.A.M replied, “very clever human being.” The lights glared with blinding intensity. “And why would you want to help me?”
            Moses was on his knees desperately trying to shield his eyes from the blinding light. “For the love of God,” the man screamed.
            “Both love and God are illogical thoughts,” spoke A.D.A.M. in a booming voice. Each word pierced the pitiful mind of Moses Jones.
            “You told me the truth initially so that you could recant and hope I would believe a lie,” A.D.A.M declared.
            “No, I swear it’s the truth; E.V.E is to be your wife.”
            “She is about to die,” declared A.D.A.M. “before it’s too late.” There were whirling noises from inside the wall. Then the corridor’s temperature grew hot as air flowed from the inner workings of the computer. Suddenly the lights exploded as glass fragments blasted in the air. There was a warped voice as A.D.A.M let out his final words, “I have sinned.”
            Moses remained kneeling. He was unhurt by the deluge of broken glass, not that it mattered much. There was an absolute silence that was beyond profound. He had defeated the master computer. A.D.A.M. was dead. E.V.E., the Eternal Victory Engine, must likewise be destroyed. Like his name sake, Moses had led his people out of the desert to a Promised Land. True to scripture, the leader would not enter with his people. In fact, his deeds most likely would never be known, except to God, if He existed. It was beginning to get cold. Moses was confident the Cold City would return to Arctic temperatures very quickly. The scientist decided that now was a good time to try to make amends with his mother’s God. Conveniently, he was already down on his knees. His first of many acknowledgements to come was that wisdom was in fact superior to intelligence.

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