February Update: I’m back from the dead (again)

Today was Super Bowl Sunday, hope you enjoyed your parties. Starting this month, I will do these updates bimonthly (exceptions made for special updates, I’ll mark them as such). Let’s begin!

Creative Updates

So, poetry is making a comeback here! I promised in the last update to publish some before Christmas, but I just didn’t have much decent material to draw off of. No promises on when, but I promise it’s coming soon. As for stories, I’m planning on continuing Remembering Last Christmas in another short story. That’s been under way since I published the last one. Hope to get that ASAP, my life seems to only get busier and busier.

Commentary Updates

I’m planning to do some more commentary pretty soon. That’s all I will say on that for now. If you have any suggestions about anything at all, don’t be afraid to contact me on the blog’s email (check the contact page for that) or the contact form on the same page. Have a great Valentine’s Day (I’ll be alone as usual).

Yours truly,

Gideon

Remembering Last Christmas

It’s Christmas time again and Gary Hopkins, a teenager in Taylorville, flashes back to last Christmas, the one he can not forget.

I never saw any of it coming. I mean it’s one of the most predictable days of the year and I had some interesting company. Wait, I’m getting ahead way of myself. Let me begin right at 3:00 in the afternoon on Christmas Eve last year.

I was passing through the kitchen with some placemats on my way to the dining table, where I had to set up the table for the feast.

“Gary! Don’t use those old placemats, here, use these ones,” my mom said while grabbing the old ones from me.

“Thanks Mom,” I replied with no meaning to it whatsoever.

I was in the dining room doing my job when I first heard that noise that probably began it all. I can’t describe it just right. It was definitely a high pitched whir, really loud and annoying. It broke my mom’s very expensive white fine china collection. My family rushed into the room panicking to assess the damage, then the doorbell rang. My younger brother, Henry went to answer it.

“Go away, strange man!” Henry shouted. The man at the door then said something I couldn’t hear.

“If you’re Voltaire, I’m the King of England! Go…”

“I shall not leave the premises until I have the company of the owner!” the man exclaimed.

My dad, looking as if he was foreseeing something terrible, went to the door. They talked for about a minute, I couldn’t hear anything they said. He then walked back in with a man who looked like he was straight out of a history book or a museum exhibit.

“I’m very sorry for my son’s impolite behavior, Mr….”

“Arouet, but you may know me as Voltaire.”

The room fell silent. Everyone could see what the other was thinking, because everyone had the same thought. Is this man out of his mind? Luckily, the rest of my family thought so too. My Uncle Ben wearing his trenchcoat as always, was sitting quietly as this circus occurred and he found an opportunity to speak.

“Monsieur Arouet, I happen to be a fan of your works and I’d like to talk to you about them.”

“Surely, I could never reject an intellectual conversation.”

“What do you think about the church’s role in government?”

“Well…”

So, they talked about religion and other things from the 1700s for a what seemed like ages.

While that conversation happened, the doorbell rang again.  “It’s probably the President this time, am I right?” I joked while going to the door. President Brown was standing on my doorstep.

“You’ve been staring for so long, when will I get in?” President Brown said as he offered a handshake.

“Hello, Mr. President,” I said while shaking his hand, “I’m Gary Hopkins.”

“Nice to meet you, Gary.” he said as I showed him into the living room.

“Which President Brown impersonator are you?” my brother asked rudely. My mom went and pinched his ear in such a way that President Brown wouldn’t notice.

“Sorry about my son, Mr. President. I’m Maria Hopkins, I’m sure you met Gary and that would be my other son, Henry. Let me introduce you to everyone else, they’re out on the patio.” she said happily.

6:00 came quickly and the food was all ready to eat. The doorbell did ring a few more times, but those rings were just relatives we expected. We were going to sit at the large dining table only used for the most special of occasions. And it was so big, we had to haul it into the living room with its tan colored walls and sofas just as tan. We assembled it in there just before dinner. Everyone finally settled down, and my dad asked for silence.

“Before we do our prayer, I’d like to acknowledge our special guests: Mr. Arouet, or Voltaire as he is commonly known as, our president, Larry Brown…”

Massive applauding came from everyone in the room.

“Why are they here?” Henry asked me.

“I don’t know…”

“Let me speak!” my dad shouted, and then the room went silent. “And lastly not us not forget Rebecca, who took time out of her busy schedule in New York to travel all the way to Taylorville.” Polite applause came from the whole room. “Let us pray…” and then we prayed and began to eat our dinner.

 

“So, you are the King of this nation?” Voltaire asked President Brown.

“No, Mr. Voltaire, I’m the president. My power is quite limited compared to a king.”

“That would then mean my friend Rousseau was right.”

“Please pass the cranberry sauce,” Uncle Ben asked.

“That atrocious ‘sauce’ is the only thing I hate about 2016.” Voltaire replied as he passed it.

“How did you get here?” I asked him.

“That is a tale for another day.” he said.

“Tell me!” I shouted to the mortified looks of my family. “Sorry. Please tell me.” I politely asked.

“I found the secret to time travel.” Voltaire said.

My family and myself were beyond shock. My grandma choked on her ham, Henry froze in horror, my Aunt Rebecca passed out and I was in a state far beyond lost.

“You can travel through time?” President Brown said with some bewilderment and excitement in his voice as he reached for his phone. “I need to take a phone call, now!”

“Oh, no. I shall not let you do that.” Voltaire said as he pulled out an object that looked like a taser. President Brown put his hands in the air as my dad and my grandpa, who sat next to him, moved away slowly.

“You see, Monsieur Brown, I’ve been up and down time itself as of late, and I know that your government wants to alter time and history as we know it. You simply can not get away with your crimes against time.”

“What do you want? Money, a job for life, anything?” President Brown said frantically.

“I want you to come with me.”

“Listen, Voltaire. I’m the leader of the free world. I just can’t go with you to wherever you take me.”

By the time he said that, my family was slowly leaving the room. “Everyone shall leave President Brown and I to have a talk.” Voltaire said. I quickly got up and started to leave with the others but I noticed someone lingering behind. My Uncle Ben was leaving at a suspiciously slow pace with his hands reaching into his trench coat. Something in the air seemed make that single moment last for ages. Before I could blink, Voltaire was as frozen as ice staring at President Brown and President Brown was frozen just like him with a frightened expression. I blinked again, and he was still frozen. I turned back to Uncle Ben and he had an object in his hand that looked like a gun. “Don’t worry Gary. I just suspended them in time. Now please help me move Voltaire to the closet.”

“This is unreal.” I replied as we picked up Voltaire by his frozen limbs.

“There are things you do not know, or should ever know.” Uncle Ben said. So we moved his body to the coat closet. “I’m sorry about this. I have to tell you the whole truth Gary. I am a CIA agent. That is why you did not see any security inside this house for the President and why I even have a weapon so advanced. I had to freeze the President so I could tell you this. You must never tell a soul what I just said. Understand?” Uncle Ben asked sternly.

“Yes, I understand.” I said as he unfreezed President Brown.

“Why on earth did you freeze me?” President Brown asked.

“To protect you, Mr. President. He almost killed you.” Uncle Ben replied.

“Thank you…” President Brown said with reluctance; he looked at his watch. “I must be on my way. Please thank your family for their hospitality.”

Everything then seemed to slowly go back to normal, slowly. The frozen Voltaire went with Uncle Ben and my family eventually came out of shock, two hours later. So, I never did see any of it coming, but it was surely interesting. Now, I’m sitting next to a permanently frozen Voltaire at Uncle Ben’s house and I still wonder why it all happened. Maybe it was to warn me about what was to come, the uncertain present I now live in.

Thank you for reading this story, watch out for more coming soon. Once again, Happy Hoildays! -Gideon

All material on this blog is copyrighted. ©2016 Gideon Kariuki

Transitioning and (Re)launching: December Update

Creative Updates

Well, I’ve not really been updating the blog lately. So, as a Christmas present to you all I will now. I currently have an interesting story in the pipeline and maybe some poetry (still thinking if I should even upload it). No promises on when any of it will come on, but I am currently aiming for no later than Monday (December 19th) for the story and anytime before Christmas on the poems.

Blog Updates

So, now I have migrated to WordPress from Blogger. This will not change any material published prior to today and I will shut down the Blogger in the next few days. This will be the home of my blog now.

Also, today I’m launching an Instagram for this blog! I’ll share thoughts and quotes there periodically. It is @gideonsnookblog. By the way, I will definitely do these updates once in while, just to assure you and other readers that I have not fallen off the map. Happy Holidays!

As always,

Gideon

My Voice: Dear America

I thought I would take some time to appeal to the better side of our nation. Well, here goes…

Dear America,
You are the shining beacon of democracy throughout the whole world. I mean 240 straight years of existence can only add up to the fact of our system standing the test of time. There were bad times (e.g. the Civil War, much of the 1960s), but we as Americans got through it, together. And that’s the beautiful thing about our system, it’s ability to change when needed and (eventually) work for the greater good.

I’m sure you’ve been watching the news or reading your Twitter feed and you feel like pounding your head in disgust. With all the scandal and plain nonsense being spewed this election, let’s all take a breather. Let’s not be Democrats, Republicans, Trump supporters, Hillary lovers or plain apathetic for just a minute. Let’s all be American.

As much as many want all of us to believe that we are irredeemably different, why don’t we remember the values we share? Why don’t we leave the nonsense to politicians and instead come together? It’s been a tough time with many feelings hurt, but we must not take our differences personally.

Remember folks, there’ll be a nation after November 8th, and we all have to get behind our new president (whoever that will be) and work towards making Washington work for the people again. There will be disagreements along the way though, and that’s fine. What isn’t OK is screaming about election rigging (without any evidence) or resorting to any form of violence whatsoever. Leave the politicking and nonsense making to politicians and let’s be American again.

Yours sincerely,
Gideon
Head (and only, presently) writer

Poems of Myself- Part 1

Today, as I come back from a period of not writing (I get busy in other things), I’m starting a series of poems that I wrote about what goes on in my head, what I feel and my observations about my life sometimes.

 

Friends

Who is so kind?
Who cares when all are cynics?
Who can free me from my bind?
Who does not mimic my enemies,
But scares with the love of a brother?
This is a friend, not just any
But the Superfriend!

I wake up only to discover,
That I’ve been smothered
By my end.

Who am I?

I go to the depths of my soul,
To find the eternally cold
Case that laces those

That know not the unsold

Thing that encases,

That is none but

The external material

Like a parasite

That’s out of spite;

So now I want to know,

The forever asked question:

Who am I?

Some live and die,

Never knowing the time

That defines,

That shapes the soul,

The answer to:

Who am I?

The Old Me

 

I once decree,

That the old me

Is sold,

Sold to that sack of gold;

Because, I’m poor,

Poor of soul.

Now, the cold

Is replaced with

This new found myth,

Of non-existent gold.

The treasure, I decree,

Is in the cure,

For a lost soul,

A soul that knows

Itself only.

Feel free to leave constructive criticism in the comments below!

All material on this blog is copyrighted. ©2016 Gideon Kariuki

Blank- a poem by myself

As I earlier said, in the welcome letter, I want to use this blog for my poetry. Here’s just one I wrote a few weeks ago.

I see no words,
I see no birds,
I hear no spite,
I taste no flavor,
I savor no moment,
I feel no touch,
I smell nothing.

Not here or there,
Is my stare
But nowhere,
Nowhere at all.

Feel free to leave constructive criticism below in the comments section.

All material on this blog is copyrighted. ©2016 Gideon Kariuki

My Voice: I’m sick and tired of it all!

My Voice is a section on this blog where I will put out my opinion on current affairs and other events in my life.

As you all may know, there has been two prominent shootings of black men in the past two days. I am aware of two more but for the purposes of this post, I will focus on the shootings of Alton Sterling in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and the shooting of Philando Castile in Falcon Heights, Minnesota.

First, let’s look at Alton Sterling’s case. In this case, someone called the police claiming that a black man, with a red shirt selling CDs in front of a convenience store was acting threatening with a gun. The police then came and tried to apprehend him. That’s where the issues started. The police eventually restrained Sterling (one sitting on one arm, one holding the other) and still shot him! Multiple times! They could’ve handcuffed him, but no, he must die. To those saying, “He had a gun,” the video, and the shopkeeper’s eyewitness report that he told the media, show that Sterling was in fact not reaching for his gun and was restrained to a point where handcuffing him was possible.

With that said, let’s look at Philando Castile’s case. According to Castile’s girlfriend, he was pulled over for a busted taillight and as he reached for his ID the officer shot him. This again being recorded on video, in fact live-streamed on Facebook. Once again, Castile had a gun (which was legally registered and he informed the officer of that much) and the officer just shot him. The officer in this case shot (four times!) first and asked questions later. And there was a little 4 year old in the back seat watching this.

This is wrong. Why are so many innocent black people gunned down? I’m sick and tired of it all! I could’ve been Philando Castile. I could’ve been Alton Sterling. When will people realize that not all policemen are noble people who protect the population. There are some bad policemen out there and they need to be called out.

And to those that say #allivesmatter as a rebuttal to #blacklivesmatter, no one is saying black lives matter and the rest be dammed (pardon my language, but I think this situation is deserving). The idea of it is that there seems to be far too many innocent black lives lost to police brutality (or as I call it, 21st Century lynching). To say #alllivesmatter is to silence the thought that racism is alive and well in our society. The first step to solving a problem is admitting one exists. I mean even the KKK doesn’t think they are racist! Racism is alive and policemen can be racist. Not all are, but some are. I’m and tired of defending my right to exist and speak out against injustice. I refuse to be silent in the face of injustice! That’s my two cents.

My sources and more information:
Philando Castile’s case

Alton Sterling’s case

This goes into detail about Sterling’s case and the reaction to it