We Can Save The World

Hello dear readers, are you still there? It has been a while, and aside from one person who has relentlessly badgered me about new posts, I am sure you have all given up. Ever the optimist however, I am going to assume that you are all there, salivating at the prospect of some further amazing content. I shall not ignore you, my legion of adoring readers, I shall not forsake you in your need. No, in fact I would like to run a little test, and I hope that you will become my willing test subjects.

To try and stir up some actual response from you, and, of course, to help me help you satisfy your unquenchable desire for for more content.
I am going to post a little teaser from a short story that I have been playing with. You can then let me know if your interest is piqued and if you would like to read the whole story. You can leave a comment here, or even e-mail me.

We Can Save The World
Part 1:
Double Edged

...
The whine of the propellers had changed. James unbelted, just as Andy looked back and flashed five fingers at him from the cockpit. James looked down at the carpet of green below them. Not quite a complete carpet, there were ink stains of darkness where rivers and slight clearings cracked the forest canopy from beneath. Flashes of light burst on and off streaking the darkness, and although James could not hear anything above the chopper's engines, he knew what they were.
No one had fired up at them yet, and that was a little surprising, their chopper was not exactly the latest stealth model, and surely even the most ill equiped forces as the ones engaged below would have some sort of radar operational. Perhaps they are just too busy shooting at each other . Fighting over the big bomb.
Where was it? James just hoped it was actually down there, getting decent satellite and intelligence from this jungle war was an absolute headache.
"Go!" The voice boomed in his ear, and then his right arm was yanked. He barely managed to snatch his helmet before he was whipped over the edge and caught in a dizzying spiral towards the forest. He locked his arm around his companion’s neck and pulled his knees as far up as he could.
They hit the forest floor with an audible thud, the shock of mike's impact kicking up a shower of mud and leaves. James timed it perfectly, he had had practice, and pushed off from Mike’s back in an aerial somersault, switching his night vision goggles on as he landed. Ahead of him, Mike pulled himself out off their crater, mud slipping down the smooth casing of his metal legs. “Razor Get to the prize...

Another late post

Again dear reader, again I find myself having to apologise for the lack of meaningful update, or indeed any update to the blog YOU CANNOT RESIST. In this case, of course, meaningful is being used in an entirely subjective manner.
As usual though I have an excuse, which I am sure you must be aware of; that’s right GBSOD has been moving. Spug and I have scoured Wimbledon and Colliers Wood areas, wearing our feet away under an unseemly hot sun. Neither of us really believed that England was supposed to experience temperatures above 30 degrees. In fact I am fairly certain Spug was expecting the max temp to be no higher than –5, at all times.

I am currently job-hunting, and pestering BT about our Broadband. As it is I am going to have to go and pay exorbitant amounts of a dwindling capital just to post this in a net cafe. The things I sacrifice for you dear reader.

I have to admit that 4 months ago I would never have expected to find myself queuing in a Job center for benefits, the dole. Never have dreamed of queuing for the sorts of jobs, I erroneously thought, my education would have elevated me beyond. Yes blue collars surround me.
Look at me a snotty nosed, bourgeoisie, pretentious snob! In truth I am really happy, to get the chance to see the world from another angle. An angle that most people with similar backgrounds from Zimbabwe might never see otherwise. As a white in Zim, there is a line that you can never cross, no matter how poor and desolate you are. You never quite reach the bottom of the pile. It isn't easy that’s for sure, living in zim is tough no matter what colour your skin, no matter how tanned you may have become over the generations, but there is a distinction still, a big one - if you are a honkey.

What always brought it home to me, what always made me to want to shout in frustration, was when a white haired old man, would call me, Sir, the only reason because I was born into a particular skin pigment category- no more, no less.