And Now Finally...
I am disappointed with my inability to finish things that I start. I don't like how I oftentimes start out with exuberance and excitement about a project or idea and that excitement fizzles out before I make meaningful progress on it. I'm not sure why it is; I may suffer the inability to stick to a plan, I may just have a short attention span. I may even just be lazy. (Well actually I know I'm lazy.) But it really disappoints me when I don't finish what I start. And maybe I can use that as a motivator. So yeah...
And on that note, I'd like to finally post my Edwin P. Jones story. It should be noted by the readers that I am no good at writing stories, as it's not something I do as frequently as some of my other el-jayer friends. Hopefully I can change that, too. So forgive me if this story is somewhat dry and boring.
Here is written the continuing tales of Edwin P. Jones, an exceptional young man. The story is as follows…
--
The small convoy of three armored cars pulled into the presidential palace. The large copper gates lurched open slowly by a mechanical arm; shining brightly metallic brown in the high desert sun. The guards at the turrets kept aim at the approaching vehicles although many of them personally knew the drivers. There are no chances taken.
After several uniformed men emptied out of the cars, an average-height man with a slightly thinning head of combed hair exited. He was lead into an inspection room where he had to strip all of his clothes and turn them over to other uniformed men who searched and scoured them frantically. The man was not embarassed by this; he knew very well that was the routine procedure. In fact, the man felt quite humbled and honored to be here. Very few outsiders were ever invited to visit the President at his palace. He had heard rumors of the President personally interviewing all of his potential cabinet members and advisors but could never really pin down whether they were true. But he knew that even getting the chance was a great honor. He reminded himself that his whole political career had brought him to this moment. He knew that if he could snatch this position that his life and his family would be made for the rest of his life. It was common knowledge that the President treated his cabinet and advisors very well.
The man went through the three-dimensional X-ray machine. A gray, translucent model of himself showed up on the metal-framed monitor. On it, he could see under his clothes and into his body. The security detail could see it as well. Just another safety measure, the man knew. Although the security guard waved him through, he still had to pass through the metal detector and allow the well-trained German Shepherd to take a few sniffs. There are no chances taken.
The anticipation was building in him now. He again thought of the past. He was very young when the Terminal Wars ended, but knew the impact they had on things. He was taught that again and again in primary and secondary school. What may have influenced his decision to get into politics was the idea that the President represented a glimmer of hope from the old days, the days before the wars. The days when Nueva Sonora Norte was part of a larger union and the desert lands were generally at peace. A time before drug-fueled street battles flared up nearly constantly. He had lost countless friends he knew growing up to the gangs; either through murder or enlistment into the gangs.
He was brought up through a series of halls and doors out into an upstairs balcony. He was seated at a table with two chairs; the other chair presently vacant. He was immediately impressed with the view; one he had seen many times before on Webcasts and news programs. The presidential palace was situated close to Espalda de Camello Mountain and the view from this balcony offered a stunning vista of the valley. The sun was still high in the cobalt blue, cloudless sky, however it was not too hot. The air was also clear and one could see for miles.
It was five minutes or so now. He noticed some smoke beginning to rise up in the distance, perhaps twenty miles away. Even the President was close to this turbulence. Even the President couldn't escape the reality.
--
Several armed guards walked out of the balcony entrance in formation without announcement. The man knew this was the moment; he remember some old saying about first impressions. He immediately rose to his feet and stood in silence. After twelve uniformed guards dispersed into two rows of six leading to the table, the President entered escorted by two more suited guards. Edwin Pershing Jones, President of the Republic of Nueva Sonora Norte. The state-controlled media was sure to give the President lots of positive coverage. People always joked about the propaganda machine but, in general, really did believe the President is a hero of sorts. He had been re-elected three times, winning more and more support each time. In the last election, he received 96% of the vote. No one really called it into question because most of the masses usually had other concerns. Amid the mythos surrounding the President, no one really knew much about him personally. Little was known about his past and where he came from. But that didn't really matter either; he still had the air about him as the benevolent caretaker that would set things back to the way they used to be.
The man was on his feet, though he didn't realize it right away. The president approached the man. He held out his hand and said the formal, bilingual greeting, "Bienvenido, Welcome!" In an awed stupor, the man stood frozen for a second, but after a few seconds, he fumbled out a response, "Oh,..Uh,..Mr. President...Hello...Thank you!" The man accepted the handshake under the steely-eyed stare of the guards who, for a brief moment, tensed up and leaned in a bit. The President continued, "Please, sit, If you don't mind, I'd like to get started right away." "Yes, of course" replied the man. The man made his way over to the table first, sitting back down. The President followed, escorted the whole way by the two suited agents in sunglasses. When the President took his seat, the two agents remained, stoic and staid like the sentries of King's Guard at Buckingham Palace. There are no chances taken.
--
The president pulled out a clipboard with papers on it; this was the background information of the man being interviewed. The President looked over a few things and then set the papers aside.
The man sat nervously in the opposite seat, debating in his mind whether to croak out an icebreaker comment. When the President looked up, the man found himself blurting the words, "I'm surprised that you do all of this personally," then shutting up quickly realizing he may have made a faux pas. The President responded succinctly, "I prefer to get to know my cabinet members personally. It's one thing to scour their history and make sure they're clean and suitable for the job, it's another to really get to know a person. I have found that is the best way to really figure out if he is up to snuff."
The president called an assistant over; the man didn't even see him come in. The President continued, "Would you care for a drink? We might be here for a while." The man responded, "I'd like a, uh... glass of water, please." The president whispered something in the assistant's ear then the assistant disappeared promptly.
A scavenging bird, vulture or buzzard, hovered overhead riding the convection updrafts caused by cooler air cooking over warmer ground.
The President then resumed the interview. "I see you went to University of Victoria for Law... Then moved back here to become a Prosecutor of Civil Justice... Very nice; most people it seems want to get out of here." The President chuckled, and the man anxiously chuckled in acknowledgement. The man uttered, "Well, this is where I'm from. This is my home."
The President resumed, "And, six years ago, you joined Legal Affairs of the Freedom Restoration Party. I guess that means you voted for me each time, right?"
The man replied, "Yes sir. Some say it's corny, but I actually believe in what you're trying to do."
The President gave the man a blank stare and resumed. "And what is it that you hope to bring to my administration?" Before the man could answer the assistant returned. In one hand, he held a tray with two glasses, in the other a green cloth bag. He quickly and quietly delivered the drinks; water for the man and a Tom Collins for the President. He cleared the table of the papers and opened the green bag. In it, there was a Staunton chess set. The assistant worked quickly to unroll the leather chessboard, fold the corners into slots made into the table and set up the pieces.
As the assistant worked, the man observed the set. The board looked aged and the pieces showed signs of wear from a lifetime of use. The man sat a bit confused at the turn of events; was a chess game a regular procedure or did the President, in his whimsy, just feel like springing this surprise on this particular guest on this particular day? He didn't contemplate on it for too long as the assistant had set the pieces up quickly and once again departed. The man noticed he was White; a perfectly arranged set of darkened-cream colored pieces set across the board from dark pieces. The President quickly addressed this turn of events.
"A chess game is something I do for all prospective members of my administration. I've played chess since I was young and I feel it's an excellent way to get to know how someone behaves and reacts. I'm by no means a grand master, but being in my position, I've had the opportunity of playing some interesting people. So, shall we get started?"
The man thought for a second and opened with a fairly standard move; moving the pawn in front of the queen forward two spaces. The president thought for a moment and quickly countered with the corresponding pawn in front of his king being moved. After his move, the President began to speak. "Do you believe in reunification?"
The man sat frozen. He wasn't expecting such a question to be asked. It used to be thought that reunification of the different states would bring back peace and prosperity like before the death and destruction of the Terminal Wars. After a generation, though, it seemed a quaint thought that didn't have any real seriousness. The man was unsure of how to respond; the party supported reunification nominally, but only because it was a warm and fuzzy notion that easily wins votes. The man worried that saying he believed in it would be showing his true disloyalty to the President.
But before the man could muster a response, the President ended his squirming. "I take it from your lack of response that you do believe in it, but you're worried that admitting it will raise doubts about your loyalty, right?"
The man replied, "Well.. uh... yes." He nervously made his next move, bringing the Knight out.
The President continued, "Well I'd like to think I'm above such petty things. Hell, even I'd like to gather in a council and hammer out some kind of agreement, but the truth is that everyone's got their own interests now. All the post-War states on the continent are trying to compete with the rest of the world, and since a lot of them still have their priorities out of whack, there's too much bickering on their own." The president took a drink and made his countermove. "One of my finance councilmembers was in talks in New South Ontario when he offended one of their ministers with a trade proposal, only to wake up with a rotting sack of onions and pig guts in his hotel room. There's too many of these immature pranks and senseless arguments going on."
The man, after some thought, made his next move. The man began to relax a little.
The President continued. "It's not always so innocent. The other states have their street battles and car bombs, same as us. It's all we can do to avoid some dignitary visiting us only to be killed in some sort of suicide attack. Sure they never talk about it on the news, but why would we let them? We can't begin to talk about reunification until we can all get things better controlled in our own back yards. In the mean time, we just have to look out for ourselves."
The conversation continued like this; a back and forth exchange of political minutiae and philosophical musings, looking for blame for all of the problems, and even bombastic and jocular discussions of taking over the whole damn continent just to get some real change. The talk even got to real peace and to real unity, and even of nostalgia for the past. Given the tranquility of the surroundings and the esteem of his host's presence, the man even forgot for a while the tumultuous conflict going on not just miles away but even further, stretching across the former great nation in varying degrees from simmering race tension in the street to all out chaos and warfare. He forgot all of that. For just a few moments, he felt like a child, like he did during the time before the war; during the time of peace.
--
The chess game progressed to past the tit-for-tat piece exchange until the inevitabilities of endgame. The man thought as if the President was simply countering his moves, but never quite going on the full pursuit of a mate but never giving up a near balanced position. The man figured the President was testing him somehow, though he couldn't quite figure the nature of the test. But by the time there were five White pieces and six Black pieces remaining on the board, the man had resigned himself to try and capture this game. The man made an aggressive move; moving his remaining bishop to two rows from the defender's home row, attacking some of the President's pawns and threatening the President's rook and king based on the next move. At this point, the President ceased his back-and-forth banter. The man couldn't quite tell if he was worried or if rather the boldness of his move had impressed the President.
The president sat pensively. The sudden silence of the President was making the man a little apprehensive, but excited. All was quiet and the man noted the distinct sound of machine gun fire coming from far off in the west of the valley. If he felt at peace before, he was very much back in the present now. The man watched intently but feigned expressionlessness as the President made his move.
"Aha!" thought the man. He opened up his king's defending block, allowing the man to move his rook in and most likely get a mate in two more moves. In his exuberance, the man hurriedly made his countermove, rushing the rook to it's new position and taking his hand off. About 340 milliseconds after releasing contact of the plastic piece, a terrified feeling came over the man. The man's rook was defending his king. In the span of a breath, he felt aghast at his mistake, but redetermined himself to maintain his composure. The man looked back up to see the President turning away from a concerned glance and back to the board. The President made the move the man knew too late was coming next, rushing his bishop down to break open the man's defenses.
In a sullen state of embarrassment, the man moved his king to the right, but there was little to be done at this point. The President then rushed his formerly defending rook down to finish the
job. A series of "checks" and one-way moves later, and the President declared his win.
"Mate."
The man attempted to revive the cordial and amicable air of just ten minutes earlier. He muttered, "I let my pride and excitement get to me. And I realized my mistake just after I made it."
The President simply said "Well, that mistake is what cost you. And it's a real shame, too."
The man didn't even feel the bag go over his head until he already saw blackness, felt wind knocked from his lungs and was being dragged away. There are no chances taken.
"Yes, a real shame. You'd've made a good Cabinet member..."
Constructive and destructive criticism welcome...
And on that note, I'd like to finally post my Edwin P. Jones story. It should be noted by the readers that I am no good at writing stories, as it's not something I do as frequently as some of my other el-jayer friends. Hopefully I can change that, too. So forgive me if this story is somewhat dry and boring.
Here is written the continuing tales of Edwin P. Jones, an exceptional young man. The story is as follows…
--
The small convoy of three armored cars pulled into the presidential palace. The large copper gates lurched open slowly by a mechanical arm; shining brightly metallic brown in the high desert sun. The guards at the turrets kept aim at the approaching vehicles although many of them personally knew the drivers. There are no chances taken.
After several uniformed men emptied out of the cars, an average-height man with a slightly thinning head of combed hair exited. He was lead into an inspection room where he had to strip all of his clothes and turn them over to other uniformed men who searched and scoured them frantically. The man was not embarassed by this; he knew very well that was the routine procedure. In fact, the man felt quite humbled and honored to be here. Very few outsiders were ever invited to visit the President at his palace. He had heard rumors of the President personally interviewing all of his potential cabinet members and advisors but could never really pin down whether they were true. But he knew that even getting the chance was a great honor. He reminded himself that his whole political career had brought him to this moment. He knew that if he could snatch this position that his life and his family would be made for the rest of his life. It was common knowledge that the President treated his cabinet and advisors very well.
The man went through the three-dimensional X-ray machine. A gray, translucent model of himself showed up on the metal-framed monitor. On it, he could see under his clothes and into his body. The security detail could see it as well. Just another safety measure, the man knew. Although the security guard waved him through, he still had to pass through the metal detector and allow the well-trained German Shepherd to take a few sniffs. There are no chances taken.
The anticipation was building in him now. He again thought of the past. He was very young when the Terminal Wars ended, but knew the impact they had on things. He was taught that again and again in primary and secondary school. What may have influenced his decision to get into politics was the idea that the President represented a glimmer of hope from the old days, the days before the wars. The days when Nueva Sonora Norte was part of a larger union and the desert lands were generally at peace. A time before drug-fueled street battles flared up nearly constantly. He had lost countless friends he knew growing up to the gangs; either through murder or enlistment into the gangs.
He was brought up through a series of halls and doors out into an upstairs balcony. He was seated at a table with two chairs; the other chair presently vacant. He was immediately impressed with the view; one he had seen many times before on Webcasts and news programs. The presidential palace was situated close to Espalda de Camello Mountain and the view from this balcony offered a stunning vista of the valley. The sun was still high in the cobalt blue, cloudless sky, however it was not too hot. The air was also clear and one could see for miles.
It was five minutes or so now. He noticed some smoke beginning to rise up in the distance, perhaps twenty miles away. Even the President was close to this turbulence. Even the President couldn't escape the reality.
--
Several armed guards walked out of the balcony entrance in formation without announcement. The man knew this was the moment; he remember some old saying about first impressions. He immediately rose to his feet and stood in silence. After twelve uniformed guards dispersed into two rows of six leading to the table, the President entered escorted by two more suited guards. Edwin Pershing Jones, President of the Republic of Nueva Sonora Norte. The state-controlled media was sure to give the President lots of positive coverage. People always joked about the propaganda machine but, in general, really did believe the President is a hero of sorts. He had been re-elected three times, winning more and more support each time. In the last election, he received 96% of the vote. No one really called it into question because most of the masses usually had other concerns. Amid the mythos surrounding the President, no one really knew much about him personally. Little was known about his past and where he came from. But that didn't really matter either; he still had the air about him as the benevolent caretaker that would set things back to the way they used to be.
The man was on his feet, though he didn't realize it right away. The president approached the man. He held out his hand and said the formal, bilingual greeting, "Bienvenido, Welcome!" In an awed stupor, the man stood frozen for a second, but after a few seconds, he fumbled out a response, "Oh,..Uh,..Mr. President...Hello...Thank you!" The man accepted the handshake under the steely-eyed stare of the guards who, for a brief moment, tensed up and leaned in a bit. The President continued, "Please, sit, If you don't mind, I'd like to get started right away." "Yes, of course" replied the man. The man made his way over to the table first, sitting back down. The President followed, escorted the whole way by the two suited agents in sunglasses. When the President took his seat, the two agents remained, stoic and staid like the sentries of King's Guard at Buckingham Palace. There are no chances taken.
--
The president pulled out a clipboard with papers on it; this was the background information of the man being interviewed. The President looked over a few things and then set the papers aside.
The man sat nervously in the opposite seat, debating in his mind whether to croak out an icebreaker comment. When the President looked up, the man found himself blurting the words, "I'm surprised that you do all of this personally," then shutting up quickly realizing he may have made a faux pas. The President responded succinctly, "I prefer to get to know my cabinet members personally. It's one thing to scour their history and make sure they're clean and suitable for the job, it's another to really get to know a person. I have found that is the best way to really figure out if he is up to snuff."
The president called an assistant over; the man didn't even see him come in. The President continued, "Would you care for a drink? We might be here for a while." The man responded, "I'd like a, uh... glass of water, please." The president whispered something in the assistant's ear then the assistant disappeared promptly.
A scavenging bird, vulture or buzzard, hovered overhead riding the convection updrafts caused by cooler air cooking over warmer ground.
The President then resumed the interview. "I see you went to University of Victoria for Law... Then moved back here to become a Prosecutor of Civil Justice... Very nice; most people it seems want to get out of here." The President chuckled, and the man anxiously chuckled in acknowledgement. The man uttered, "Well, this is where I'm from. This is my home."
The President resumed, "And, six years ago, you joined Legal Affairs of the Freedom Restoration Party. I guess that means you voted for me each time, right?"
The man replied, "Yes sir. Some say it's corny, but I actually believe in what you're trying to do."
The President gave the man a blank stare and resumed. "And what is it that you hope to bring to my administration?" Before the man could answer the assistant returned. In one hand, he held a tray with two glasses, in the other a green cloth bag. He quickly and quietly delivered the drinks; water for the man and a Tom Collins for the President. He cleared the table of the papers and opened the green bag. In it, there was a Staunton chess set. The assistant worked quickly to unroll the leather chessboard, fold the corners into slots made into the table and set up the pieces.
As the assistant worked, the man observed the set. The board looked aged and the pieces showed signs of wear from a lifetime of use. The man sat a bit confused at the turn of events; was a chess game a regular procedure or did the President, in his whimsy, just feel like springing this surprise on this particular guest on this particular day? He didn't contemplate on it for too long as the assistant had set the pieces up quickly and once again departed. The man noticed he was White; a perfectly arranged set of darkened-cream colored pieces set across the board from dark pieces. The President quickly addressed this turn of events.
"A chess game is something I do for all prospective members of my administration. I've played chess since I was young and I feel it's an excellent way to get to know how someone behaves and reacts. I'm by no means a grand master, but being in my position, I've had the opportunity of playing some interesting people. So, shall we get started?"
The man thought for a second and opened with a fairly standard move; moving the pawn in front of the queen forward two spaces. The president thought for a moment and quickly countered with the corresponding pawn in front of his king being moved. After his move, the President began to speak. "Do you believe in reunification?"
The man sat frozen. He wasn't expecting such a question to be asked. It used to be thought that reunification of the different states would bring back peace and prosperity like before the death and destruction of the Terminal Wars. After a generation, though, it seemed a quaint thought that didn't have any real seriousness. The man was unsure of how to respond; the party supported reunification nominally, but only because it was a warm and fuzzy notion that easily wins votes. The man worried that saying he believed in it would be showing his true disloyalty to the President.
But before the man could muster a response, the President ended his squirming. "I take it from your lack of response that you do believe in it, but you're worried that admitting it will raise doubts about your loyalty, right?"
The man replied, "Well.. uh... yes." He nervously made his next move, bringing the Knight out.
The President continued, "Well I'd like to think I'm above such petty things. Hell, even I'd like to gather in a council and hammer out some kind of agreement, but the truth is that everyone's got their own interests now. All the post-War states on the continent are trying to compete with the rest of the world, and since a lot of them still have their priorities out of whack, there's too much bickering on their own." The president took a drink and made his countermove. "One of my finance councilmembers was in talks in New South Ontario when he offended one of their ministers with a trade proposal, only to wake up with a rotting sack of onions and pig guts in his hotel room. There's too many of these immature pranks and senseless arguments going on."
The man, after some thought, made his next move. The man began to relax a little.
The President continued. "It's not always so innocent. The other states have their street battles and car bombs, same as us. It's all we can do to avoid some dignitary visiting us only to be killed in some sort of suicide attack. Sure they never talk about it on the news, but why would we let them? We can't begin to talk about reunification until we can all get things better controlled in our own back yards. In the mean time, we just have to look out for ourselves."
The conversation continued like this; a back and forth exchange of political minutiae and philosophical musings, looking for blame for all of the problems, and even bombastic and jocular discussions of taking over the whole damn continent just to get some real change. The talk even got to real peace and to real unity, and even of nostalgia for the past. Given the tranquility of the surroundings and the esteem of his host's presence, the man even forgot for a while the tumultuous conflict going on not just miles away but even further, stretching across the former great nation in varying degrees from simmering race tension in the street to all out chaos and warfare. He forgot all of that. For just a few moments, he felt like a child, like he did during the time before the war; during the time of peace.
--
The chess game progressed to past the tit-for-tat piece exchange until the inevitabilities of endgame. The man thought as if the President was simply countering his moves, but never quite going on the full pursuit of a mate but never giving up a near balanced position. The man figured the President was testing him somehow, though he couldn't quite figure the nature of the test. But by the time there were five White pieces and six Black pieces remaining on the board, the man had resigned himself to try and capture this game. The man made an aggressive move; moving his remaining bishop to two rows from the defender's home row, attacking some of the President's pawns and threatening the President's rook and king based on the next move. At this point, the President ceased his back-and-forth banter. The man couldn't quite tell if he was worried or if rather the boldness of his move had impressed the President.
The president sat pensively. The sudden silence of the President was making the man a little apprehensive, but excited. All was quiet and the man noted the distinct sound of machine gun fire coming from far off in the west of the valley. If he felt at peace before, he was very much back in the present now. The man watched intently but feigned expressionlessness as the President made his move.
"Aha!" thought the man. He opened up his king's defending block, allowing the man to move his rook in and most likely get a mate in two more moves. In his exuberance, the man hurriedly made his countermove, rushing the rook to it's new position and taking his hand off. About 340 milliseconds after releasing contact of the plastic piece, a terrified feeling came over the man. The man's rook was defending his king. In the span of a breath, he felt aghast at his mistake, but redetermined himself to maintain his composure. The man looked back up to see the President turning away from a concerned glance and back to the board. The President made the move the man knew too late was coming next, rushing his bishop down to break open the man's defenses.
In a sullen state of embarrassment, the man moved his king to the right, but there was little to be done at this point. The President then rushed his formerly defending rook down to finish the
job. A series of "checks" and one-way moves later, and the President declared his win.
"Mate."
The man attempted to revive the cordial and amicable air of just ten minutes earlier. He muttered, "I let my pride and excitement get to me. And I realized my mistake just after I made it."
The President simply said "Well, that mistake is what cost you. And it's a real shame, too."
The man didn't even feel the bag go over his head until he already saw blackness, felt wind knocked from his lungs and was being dragged away. There are no chances taken.
"Yes, a real shame. You'd've made a good Cabinet member..."
Constructive and destructive criticism welcome...