Reflections: Looking Forward On the Semester in Mythology

Main goals for the remainder of the semester for me are: consistency in blog physical style, as in the font I use, the sizes, the organization (variations are ok, but as long as it looks complete as a whole), completing the course before thanksgiving, hopefully doing two weeks of work during each week, and continually striving to be saturated in dramatics, style, language, references, and just imagination overall. I want my writing to be like graphic works of art that scream at the viewer, with vivid color, tasteful and un-tasteful references to history, pop/modern culture, and the realities of life.

I want to be me! To continue to develop my own unique style. Like a Frank Miller of 300 style remixed by a refreshing blunt/dope Kanye featuring Drake performed by an amazing Denzel Washington with background vocals from the Weekend and that lifestyle with homage to Muhammad Ali and Andy Warhol. How does that paint a picture for you.

I hope to continually mash, mix, remix, and be inspired by the stories to come when creating a couple new warriors, or maybe doses of Randomness to the face that I might have planned. We will see. It's going to be a good time with some good reads.

I will continue to comment and critique my classmates interact with them more maybe pushing them to be ever so creative outside of their own norms.

Bang Bang

Reflections: Looking Back On the Semester in Mythology

First of all I would like to thank the wonderful Lara Gibbs for such a creative class. It has definitely been a lot of writing but the reward I have felt, and the creative expression you have provided as an outlet for all of us that take your course is just, amazing. Teachers like you make learning fun. And you always do so with a typed smiley face and understanding. It has all been a refreshing experience. Thank you.

I have really been impressed with some of the stories I have concocted. I use the word concocted specifically, as I feel like a mad poet with some of my aggressive writing style and the things I have composed so far. Most tell me they love my over saturated descriptive, start-stop format, and I hope so. I have definitely developed a signature style and have always felt like somewhat of a writer, but now fully feel like a writer with my own identity. Though aggressive, I think people also find the subtle beauty I try to finesse inside of my writing. I hope so. And if they do not, at least I do. But so far I have enjoyed the praise and class.

I write about warriors and animals mostly. There is always violence. I like hints of humor if I can but sometimes it doesn't make it into a story and that is ok I have learned. Sometimes I just write. My blinders go up, I have narrowed focused vision, and I write. I enjoy being lost in that zone. In that mind frame. Lost.

My favorite stories thus far written from myself are of my three warriors (But don't read the last two as they will be in my portfolio soon and you can read them then Laura!): Rha the Destroyer // Makoma Neon // Yamato M12 and my two lion stories based from Aesop's Fables: Wolves Lions & Glory // A Lion Amongst Bulls

My favorite stories I have read are both from Aesop. Here is one, The Boar and the Fox:

As a Boar was whetting his Teeth against a Tree, up comes a Fox to him.
"Pray, what do you mean by That?" says he, "for I see no occasion for't."
"Well," says the Boar, "but I do; for when I come once to be set upon, 'twill be too late for me to be Whetting when I should be Fighting."

No Man, or State can be safe in Peace, that is no always in readiness to encounter an Enemy in Case of War.

I just really love the moral. Staying war ready. Being competitive. The second story was called the Foolhardy wolf in which a wolf looked up to a Lion cause of his effective hunting skills, and one day tried to be like lion with too much confidence and got crushed by an elephant. The cool quote from it was 'Great Lion, come forth in thy might. Food is in sight.'

and it reminded me of an exact quote I told my little brothers one day -

"Do not be impressed by people that might be your peers. Idolizing is for little boys. You can appreciate talent but do not idolize."

As far as classmate interaction I think it's going well. Sometimes the post feel a little forced and repetitive but that is hard to stop, we are all human. But meeting new people is always fun!

I have no set schedule, I do this all at a whim when I have time usually knocking it out first before design or history homework. Sundays is a good day to do work. I do it in my room on my bed usually. During the week I do some during study breaks in the library. I work best in the quite. It's kinda soothing and accomplishing to get the stuff checked off, especially when you know you have just created a unique piece of imaginative work. Thanks again Laura!

Imagination

Essay - How An African Warrior and Japanese Samurai Become Legends like Hercules

How two warriors, Makoma of Africa and Yamato of Japan become legends in strikingly similar fashion. With these types of stories one can almost always relate them to Hercules and his labors. The stories of Yamato even in fact have the same word "labors" in their respective titles. All of these stories include a single powerful man, given particular skill or magic prowess at birth and become legends amongst humans.

Yamato had to slay a dragon as Hercules had to slay the Hydra. Both wielded great swords and were pretty effective with them. Both were kinda war hungry as well and led to their wives deaths.

Makoma bore a hammer, much like the giant club Hercules sometimes welded  Both fought giant beast, Makoma's being crocodiles, Hercules being the great boar. In fact Yamato also played a great boar with terrifying tusks. So many similarities all around. Each story from a different regions on earth though. This is interesting.

In the end Makoma goes to the clouds as Hercules goes to Mt. Olympus. Makoma fought something like a great Mount Olympus type Titan to finally make his was as a legend into the heavens. Yamato became the most legendary samurai in all of Japan. 

Sources
African Stories & Japanese Mythology

Marvels Hercules

Week 5 Storytelling - Rha the Destroyer

Author's Foreword//Notes:
This is a different approach from my other stories; in this approach I combine two stories from two different cultures! Uh oh, that's right, combine. The stories are much longer so showing them in this post would make the whole thing look suuper long and scary and we don't want that so I will start by summarizing them: I used the Egyptian mythological story of the King of the Dead and the Persian tale of Muhammad Tirandaz the Archer to create my very own story with elements from both. Here are very very short summaries about each story that let you know all you need to know relating to my new story.

King of the Dead - Many Egyptian Gods hang in the balance as Horus fights Set in a series of battles and war and eventually defeats him and ends his tyranny over earth. Horus then brings Osiris, his father who fell to the hands of Set, back as a mummy with the help of Ra in the heavens, and Anubis the black hound God. Osiris becomes king of the dead.

Muhammad Tirandaz the Archer - Muhammad is a foolish young boy who accidentally kills two mice playing with one another when something slips from his hand. His fellow apprentices see this and praise him by saying telling him his name should be "Muhammad Tirandaz, Muhammad of the Bow,Slaying with my arrow two lions at one blow." The naive little boy swells with confidence, leaves home, buys a bow and arrows. He is eventually found by the king, wins a war by being whipped around by a horse while charging at the king's enemies and making them magically retreat - winning the war. He is then made Commander and Chief of the army and lives happily ever after I'm sure, unless another war were to happen 'cause he actually can't shoot, ride, or kill at all. He's just lucky.

After reading King of the Dead I was pumped. After reading Muhammad Tirandaz the Archer I was struck stupid and laughed at how I thought he was going to be an epic bad ass, Legolas from the Lord of the Rings, Persian Robin Hood, gangster with a bow and arrow. Now read my new version.

Rha the Destroyer
With an eagle's eye he sees all of his enemies. His prey.
He stand around 6 foot tall. 200 pounds of carved up warrior.
He is not exactly man. He is not exactly god. A blurry in-between.
Fast. Agile more than any. Quiet in step like a black panther in the shadow.
His eyes as black as the night sky with pupils as stars.
Look into his eyes and a piece of your soul leaves with him.
Regardless, your life will. 

He was Persian born. Captive in the Egypt-Persia Wars.
In his forced conversion to Egyptian belief he gained favor from the god Ra.
A God with a great falcon head. Ra.
And now he would make the Persian the same.
Ra infected him with his spirit. Engulfing his mind in chaos and torment.
His endurance would favor him some of the God Ra's ability.
Into his heart was burned Ra's might, and his soul forever Ra's.
To insure his faith, the all-seeing Egyptian eye tattooed on his right shoulder.

Rha the Destroyer

The 2nd Egypt-Persia wars fell upon the lands once again.
Ra would unleash his new favorite soul - Rha the Destroyer.
Rha peered over a flat battle field covered in waist-high wheat.
Sword clashing. Shields bashing.
Egyptians killing Persians. Persians killing Egyptians.
Rha charged. Swift. Upright. Lifeless in the eyes.
A black spear in his hand. A bow on his back.
Arrows of sharpened Nile crocodile scales.
Falcon feathers at the ends, but not of his own.
A killing was amiss. Rha's veins swelled with the poison.
The poison of Egypt's finest snake, the mamba.
The black venom show through his dark skin.
A rush to his body and a blackout to his mind.
Rha was now at the battle's edge.

He drew an arrow. Pulled back on the string of his bow. And let it fly.
The arrow whizzed through the air with a sharp acute zip of a noise.
It pierced the heart of an enemy. Went through the back of an Egyptian ally's helmet.
And ended firmly in the head of another enemy, poking out the back, an eye on the very tip of the sharp arrow head.
An all seeing eye, of the gore of violence and war.
3 kills. Killing spree. Rha did not care who. But just that blood was spilt.
He charge through the battlefield. Zooming on his fleet feet.
Taking a solitary arrow out. And slashing the throats of his enemies.
An assassin in a war. Godly agile.
Hardly seen by the naked human eye. Just blurs of feather.

Rha took out his savage wrath on the Persian Empire for what seemed like hours upon hours.
After hundreds of bodies lay bloody on the field.
And a third of the enemy depleted. They began to retreat.
Spoils to Egypt. Victory to Rha. Hail to Ra.
Hail to Rha, the Destroyer.

Author's Notes
This is the bad ass Muhammad the Archer I thought I would be reading. But it's ok, I'll make him. I know I have a violent  imagination, but I don't like to shy away from what real war is probably like. Chaotic. I was a warrior in a past life haha. As you can see I took Ra from the Egyptian culture and made him spawn a better Muhammad the Archer as Rha the Destroyer. There is now a war between the two cultures. And 'Muhammad' (Rha) is turned into a previously Persian to Egyptian convert. I combined the stories on a couple dynamic levels I feel. I also drew descriptive inspiration from the picture I selected, really helping to tie a visual to my new character. Hail Rha, the Destroyer.

Reading Diary B - African Stories

African Stories

Makoma is a African, specifically Zimbabwe, legend of a great warrior and his quests through danger and triumph. Here is  a summery of his ventures as his many tales are long and wordy and would take up a lot of space and require the viewer to perhaps read more than expected.

Makoma was born different than regular boys, he grew fast and strong at a higher rate and was destined for greatness. He gave himself the name Makoma after being nameless and jumping into a crocodile pool and killing them all. When he rose out of the pool of blood he said "I am Makoma" which means "Greater."

He then ventured away to become a hero. He cam across a mountain making giant. With his iron hammer 'Nu-endo' he struck the giant who charged at him and the giant shrank to a small man. He gained the giants strength and threw the now small man into his sack.

After more venturing he came across another giant who hurled the earth around making rivers, proceeded to provoke him by saying he was greater like he did the former, and struck him and so on and so fourth. Now he had two giants that were now small men, in his bag.

He came across a third giant who planted great trees. He challenged him, dodged a thrown tree, struck him with his hammer Nu-endo, and again put him in his bag as another servant.

He then came across a man eating fire in a barren land. Another challenge was issued, Makoma dodged the flame spirits fire breath, threw his hammer at him, and defeated him, again placing him in his bag and retrieving his power.

"And now, truly, Makoma was a very great hero for he had the strength to make hills, the industry to lead rivers over dry wastes, foresight and wisdom in planting trees, and the power of producing fire when he wished."

Makoma and his now loyal servants set camp at a nice oasis of sorts by a river. A river spirit would be the next challenge. His long grey beard be the mist that hovered on top of water in the morning. The spirit and Makoma would do battle, but this one more difficult. Nu-endo slipped off the slimy spirits body and Makoma got trapped in the long grey hair. He then blew fire from his mouth burning the hard and struck the spirit killing him.

Makoma would have a vision from his ancestors that would tell him he would grow weary and go crazy if he not find and defeat the spirit Sakatirina alone. Makoma gave his servants back their powers and set off. He came to two mountains, Sakatirina's feet. He strike them, nothing happened, he light fire to them, nothing happened, then he was picked up by a huge hand from the clouds and proceeded to wrestle with Sakatirina for two days, shaking the earth and sky, until they both passed out exhausted. Mulimo great spirit deem them both the greatest of warriors and deserving to live in the clouds with him. So they did. The end.

Thoughts
Makoma, the Zimbabwe Zoom, the Make em Coma, the Shaka Zulu of the North, the Mighty Makoma (all knick names I just gave em besides the last haha). What a beast. It is good reading about African cultures as I am some African American, and we just aren't taught a lot about African mythology or folklore in any context in the United States. So this was definitely refreshing for me.

originally titled in link:

"skirt manly as fuck - you own a hyena,

you have a skirt, you're manly as fuck"

so lets keep that lol

Reading Diary A - Asia - Japanese Mythology

Japanese Mythology

The Eight-Forked Serpent of Koshi
One day Susa-no-wo discerned a chopstick drifting down the River Hi and, deeming that there must needs be folk dwelling in the country above, set forth questing what manner of men they might be.

When he had journeyed far into the forest fastnesses he came upon a grey-bearded man and an aged crone weeping, with a fair maiden set between them, whom they caressed as though bidding her a last farewell.

Susa-no-wo saluted them courteously, saying: “Who are ye, Gods or mortals? For ne’er before have I beheld Children of Earth in these lone mountains.”

Thereupon the greybeard answered: “Thy humble servant, Great Augustness, is a deity of earth cleped Ashinadzuchi (Foot-stroke Elder), son of the Mountain-God. My wife is Tenadzuchi (Hand-stroke Elder), and this damsel is our daughter, Kushinada-hime (Wondrous-fair Princess).”

“Why lament ye thus piteously?” asked Susa-no-wo, and the aged man answered: “Alas, most honourable Lord, we bewail the loss of our eight beloved daughters, who, year after year, have been slain and devoured by the terrible eight-forked serpent of Koshi. Time is that the loathly monster cometh and this our last remaining daughter will surely perish. Wherefore do we grieve exceedingly.”

“Tell me,” entreated Susa-no-wo, “what manner of fish is this monster?”

“It hath eyes as red as a ripe mountain cherry, a noisome blood-inflamed body, armed with eight fearsome heads and eight forked tails. Moreover its back is all overgrown with firs, cedars, and pines, and it trails its tortuous coils over eight valleys and as many mountains.”

Quoth Susa-no-wo: “Aged stranger, I will gladly slay the loathly dragon, if thou wilt but give to me this thy beauteous daughter in marriage.”

“With all reverence be it said,” replied the father.

“I am ignorant of thine august name.”

“Thou beholdest in me,” boasted Susa-no-wo, “none other than the brother of the glorious Sun Goddess Amaterasu, Heaven-descended ruler of Yamato.”

Whereupon the deities Ashinadzuchi and Tenadzuchi made no further ado, but assented joyously to his request.

Forthwith Susa-no-wo took the maiden from the arms of her honourable parents and transformed her into a many-toothed comb which he thrust into his dishevelled hair.

He then bade the aged crone brew a great quantity of sake of eightfold strength, and fashioned a rampart of pointed logs wherein he hung eight goodly doors. At each portal he set a vast vat which he filled with the sake of eightfold strength. Then, with the utmost deliberation, he awaited the coming of the dread monster.

After a little the great serpent came lumbering its enormous carcass over hill and ravine until it reached the rampart of pointed logs. Here it paused at the portals and lapped up the liquor with its eight forked tongues. Whereupon it became unseemly drunken, laughing hilariously, slashing and cavorting its several tails like one bewitched, until, overcome little by little by a great drowsiness, it lay down to sleep.

Thereupon Susa-no-wo of a sudden drew his ten-span sword and slashed the monster into a thousand fragments. A river of blood gushed from each separate head, and as he severed the last remaining tail the edge of his august sword was notched. Marvelling greatly, he slit the tail of the serpent and discovered therein a miraculous sword, the divine Kushanagi (Herb-queller), which he delivered to the God of Heaven.

Then Susa-no-wo retransformed his many-toothed comb into the beauteous Kushinada-hime, whom he wedded forthwith in the province of Izumo, composing for that occasion the following verses:

Like high ramparts manifold
Lo the clouds appear:
On all sides they firm enfold
Kushinada dear,
Prisoned mine for e’er to hold
In their ramparts manifold!

Thoughts
Again, kinda hard to read, almost like they are writing with a British accent haha. I bounced back to Japanese mythology after last week (week 6) because Yamato the great samurai was just a really good inspiration. Susa-no-wo was a dragon Yamato slayed I could have recalled but maybe it was very similar. In this story Susa is the warrior that slays a great eight-headed dragon with trees on his back, to earn a beautiful wife and save a morning family from grief.

Japanese style is cool to me from the dress to the warrior code. Their dragons are really classic as well. They are kind of what we think about as a young boy anytime a dragon is mentioned. Dragon Ball Z had a big influence on any youngin of my generation and lower. My little brothers even love it, and that show includes a great forest green dragon with a yellow belly, stag antlers and the stash whiskers Japanese dragons are known for. Japanese historical culture is very fascinating to me.

Japan

Week 2 Storytelling - THE Pack

An Agreement between the Wolves and the Dogs

an Aesop fable

The original story // Inspiration // * Read first for a better understanding:

The Wolves found themselves in a great Straight once how to deal with the Dogs, they could do well enough with 'em one by one they saw, but were still worsted and over-born by Numbers. They took the Matter into Debate, and came at last to this conclusion: That unless they could make a Party among them, and by a Parcel of Fair Words and Pretences, engage them in a Confederacy against their Masters and Themselves, there was no good to be done in the matter.

Upon this, they sent out their Spies among the Dogs, with Instructions to go to those among them that were nearest their own Make, Size and Colour, and to reason the matter with them, after this or the like manner. "Why should not we that are all of a Colour, and in a manner all of a Kind, be all of a Party too, and all of an Interest? You'll say perhaps, that your Masters, and your Fellows may take it Ill, and pick a Quarrel with ye. Well, and what will they be able to make on't then, against You and us together? If it comes to that once, 'twill be but One Push for all, and the Work is done."

This Discourse wrought as well as Heart could wish; for a great many of the Wolf-Colour'd-Dogs cry'd out, "Well mov'd upon't," and so went over to the other side.

And what came on't at last, but that after the Dogs had Deserted, the Wolves Worry'd one Part of their Enemies by the help of the Curs that went over to them; and they were then strong enough to destroy the Revolters themselves.

____________________________________________

THE Pack

Inspired by the original Aesop fable:
An Agreement between the Wolves and the Dogs

Pack of Wolves
Deadliest of the forest.
Nature's canine.
Swift, enduring, and structured.
Killers to survive.

Herd of Buffalo
Strongest of the plains.
Thundering bunch.
Gentle giants, constant grazers.
Movers to survive.

Pride of lions
Deadliest of the savannah.
Warlords of the golden grass.
Powerful, athletic, structured.
Killers to survive.

Pack of Humans
Bringers of death to whatever we choose. 
Chaos creators. Atomic bomb makers.
Wipes out heaps of land with a gentle push of a button,
followed by a bright flash and bang.
Rioters. Destroyers. Dominant over the helpless.
Takes nature's innocence like a murder takes a life.
Removes ugly life-giving trees,
like a toddler tosses broccoli off its plate.
Rips open the sky with burning black fuels.
Requires everyday machines of destruction.
Manipulators of everything we touch.

Deadliest pack of them all...

The Deadliest Pack 

_______________________________

Author's Notes

My story is inspired by an Aesop's fable named An Agreement between the Wolves and the Dogs found in Fables of Aesop and Other Eminent Mythologists by Roger L'Estrange (1692). To summarize, the wolves in L'Estrange's story are outnumbered while the dogs have plenty, but the wolves still plan to wage war. They use a 'divide and conquer' tactic to convert 'wolf-like' dogs to their side and tilt the numbers in their favor. They then attack and kill the dogs with the help of their converts. But in the end, they kill the wolf-like dogs because they are not truly wolves themselves. Its a twisted story of manipulation, war, and dominance. t's almost like a wolf/dog revolution. Wolves hail victorious through savagery, tactic and will. They are the dominant pack. My story doesn't necessarily have a plot like L'Estrange's, but it definitely has a moral. Humans are the top dog. We are the deadliest pack, not the wolves. Humans are clearly the most dominant force on earth besides the natural phenomenon of extreme weather, but even then we have found ways to combat and control that. We have locked away the other animals, and have slowly disrupted this world into a irreversible paradise of decrepitude.

I am not too extreme but in the instance of writing, and for creative writing's sake I like to be somewhat dramatic. I definitely strayed far away from the original story and all that seems to be left in my story is a violent manipulative tone and the idea of one dominant pack - that being the humans. Now I comment as humans and our destruction of the earth:

Yes, I think fossil fuels are bad and we need to hurry up and find alternative energy, but I also know we depend on these types of things and they are conveniences to us. We ,however, as humans, are historically violent, from sport, to rioting, for our passions, stubborn ways, and all of our other flaws. My competitive nature doesn't mind some of the violence, I think being a gladiator sounds amazing, but these are just words of course, and real situations bare real feelings, not just words on a blog. But humans can be too much, our social issues, and mass wars, and ill manipulation of technology will be our downfall.. Even for the nice people, the do-gooders, the innocent, and helpful. Most of us stand on the line of good and bad. Reality is the only true measure.

Author's Back to Chill Notes - So wow I got too real for a second, I dislike that. Back to chill mode I go haha (smiley face emoji) with some FIFA, Trap music, Gatorade and trash talk to the roomie. Hope you enjoyed it.

Humans are the deadliest pack of wild things around. Like my teacher Laura said, "we are more wolves than wolves, more lions than lions!" We are the survivors. The beast. The warriors. We are naturally violent. Think about the history of war and the warriors we honor and the ones that are forgotten. The history of the earth is written in blood. The sword is the pen. The warrior the poet. I use this as a  transition from the wolf to the warrior. More stories to come.