3 A.M. When the War Began

(Read while listening)

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O’ what can stop the sound?

The metal waging an argument again.

The soul from body?

The heart from mind, and the forsaking of everything inside.

The Brother-Against-Brother World War, in a torn field for the lilies?

O’ what sight to behold, a dying bee too weak to drink the sunflower.

A soldier unarmed, without the strength to carry on.

Like a dying gunman too weak to drink the water from the canteen?

Or a dying Christian just outside the church, too weak to pray?

What will be the hour of the day?

When war will decay, and old things pass away?

The heart too gone to return.

O’ What unsaid words unearthed?

The mind is a book opened for all the read.

A face is a mural on the wall, painted for all to see.

The eyes are hands reaching out to embrace.

O’ What New World will be discovered here on Earth today?

3 A.M. (When The War Began) (Chronologue Suite Mix)

Hello buds!

Gregory Thomas, Everybody’s Favorite uncle here!

Please enjoy this awesome Chronologue Suite Mix I did of the awesomely talented composer Yu Ya Huang’s 3 A.M.

I edited it to sound like the listener is right in the middle of an intense Avalonic Machine Siege!

Gunfire, and all!

Very emotional tear jerking work indeed, perhaps you will check out my book

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In the year 2257, humanity as we know it is challenged when an AI threat called The Avalon Republic manages to self-replicate itself. By the hand of the insane mechanical overlords, America and the other countries are put to the test as the green eyed apparatus’ hack our AI powered cars and technologies, clone their mechanical militia, and lay siege to our world in their efforts to turn humans into other machines. The Fight War wages as we send forth boots on the ground with our flags swinging through the air in bulk to defend our world. The fate of all existence lies in our hands…Should we fail, all hope will be lost.

Chronologue: Your Invitation into the future!

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Note:
The song is just for creative purposes; the song and effects are not mine, I just mashed them up together.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqC0OQZ02AY
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQn1Ipz1G…zbFqIN2cmq36BQtVO
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AXENeFFv…mq36BQtVO&index=2
www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9JMGZPXL…mq36BQtVO&index=3

The Psychology Behind Bob Ross’ Art (How deep does the Happy Tree Forest Go?)

Hey buds! Guess who? That’s right, it’s your favorite uncle ever! Gregory Thomas!

I have another podcast that’s pretty interesting.

The topic is the psychology behind Bob Ross’ artwork.

Ask yourself, now that you know that Bob Ross was a war vetern. Do you think that the reason he paints trees all the time, is because he thinks about the Vietnam war? A whole forest filled with people might be, subliminally a whole forest probably filled with American and Vietcong soldiers…But a full lush forest not filled with any people presence, could be considered a Utopia. Pure, before the war began.

This indepth Analyses of Bob Ross’ artwork goes into great detail behind his artwork, here’s the introduction to wet your gums and appetite.

Enjoy!

-Sincerely, Your Favorite Uncle ever,

Gregory Thomas

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I will not give up on my dreams.

Military Proverb

A young man was drafted into the American military. He never wanted to be a marine, but due to the war he was stationed right in the heart of the Iraq wars.
He and his squad never got along, and had great distaste for him, as he would always get into run-ins with his superiors. Being insubordinate one too many times, the military had enough of him, and they gave him a dishonorable discharge.
Fired from his civilian job due to the altercation, and virtually impossible to find another job, the young man blamed America for his problems. Wanting vengeance, he took the last bit of money he had left, and a plane all the way out overseas into Iraq, where he knew his squad was still stationed.
He went there, and found the enemy encampment that his team was scouting, in hopes they’d let him join their terrorist regime. He greeted them, and told them where his old squadron and superiors were stationed at willingly, and to his surprise, the terrorists captured, tortured and killed him. After which, they put his head on a pike, and not only did they kill off all of his squad and old superiors, but they surprise-attacked the American military with an airstrike, killing over 200 men and women, and capturing thousands of civilians in the process.

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There is an old African Proverb, that says this:
“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth”

In the end, it wasn’t the young soldier’s betrayal that shocked the military, it was the chaos that unfolded soon after out of something small that escalated so quickly,

but a village is not always guaranteed.
Mercy is not always ours.
Soul is not always body.
Fate is not always set.
Time is not always fleeting.
The mind is not always fair.
A smile is not always friend.
A memory is not always ally.
A spouse is not always constant.
Love is not always strong.

And wisdom is not always peace.
This is the logic of what’s in front of mankind.

Bob Ross Goes to War

Bob Ross says, “He’s just tryna turn over a new leaf”

With body as the canvas does this man make ends meet…

They in the trees, because there’s no way out.

Bob Ross war torn, and opening fire;

the heart of mankind, is this fellow man’s desire.

For the soul, like light, plays tricks on the eyes.

For her voice, like a knife, cuts through the veins frozen over from ice.

A body floats across the canvas called your heart.

The shadowy figures painted in the desert, are the ones forgotten and left in the dark.

The memory is a cruel jest, for it remembers all your failures.

The mind is a mirror’s stone in flesh–

for it sinks into the unblinking eyes, like a plane using a bird’s nest.

Missiles launch out, the civilians are soldiers next.

The way the kingdom dances in the moonlight with the soul. The way the heart; invisible, cold, and skips the creak like a war torn stone–

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Like a machine gun, only with a brush instead; blood from our bodies, only its just alizarin.

A swing of the bristles, and the trees for Vietnamese spring up!

A red sky for the fire, and my fellow shield brother gears up.

The green is the same color, as American Greed.

The mind is a cabin; it holds the sorrow, and yet it warms the frozen heart.

The mountains painted; but you cannot pass–

for the glass lake gives wake to the movement;

everytime the ground splinters from the cracks. The soul is an easel and our bodies are the canvas–

Very Awesome Youtube video by Ethereal Snake

Hi everybody! How is everybody doing?

I wanted to share a video I saw on Youtube by Ethereal Snake. It’s a very interesting video, it’s supposed to be a parody, but it’s very deep.

If you viewed the video, you’ll find it’s quite gripping.

The plot behind this, the story telling, the scene transitions, are very deep and driven. It’s envokes not only a deeper meaning, but it also yields a psychological tension between war, and the affects of dehumanization upon the American military and it’s soldiers when faced with the morality of the government, versus the morality of a civilian. Goofy represents the minds of the public, and hence will see actions that boon helping society and its people as the most just form of action. But when you’re a soldier, and you have been under the propaganda of the government for so long you’ll become Mickey; which represents “The Man”, in where he stands for the government. In where Goofy sees the choice to help others by delivering the truth to be a clear decision, when you’ve been warped by war and politics for so long, it becomes harder and more difficult to see what’s in front of you as the obvious choice.

In Mickey’s mind, the government is the people, but not the civilians, and if it betrays the government, then it betrays all it stands for. It’s a criminal offense. This is a prime example of the warped mind of a lawful evil (or maybe lawful neutral) arch types. The are wrong, because they don’t utilize any form of empathy. They go by the book, and thus, they become more evil then the enemies they’re fighting–In where they would sentence their own mother to die for breaking the law. When you live by a lawful evil arch type for a long time, you will inevitably slide into the lawful evil, because without morals, there is nowhere else to go but down, because you’re incapable of understanding true right from wrong. When you’re a lawful evil, and society refuses to obey your commands, then will you start to slide into a chaotic evil, because instead of obeying your own laws, and seeing the thin line between wrong and right, your only wish slowly morphs and starts to become vengeanful; this is where you’ll kill anybody just to see them die, because they won’t accept your values, and you start to enjoy the killings. Very gripping stuff here, and you should highly consider yourself being an book writer, and make movies.

I know this was supposed to be like a parody, correct? But in truth it wasn’t, and you think deeply about these things, involving war and heart ache; pain and loss, right and wrong. This is why you should continue and please keep me in touch, as I’m an author and writer myself. Good luck in your skills good dude.

-Sincerely, Gregory Thomas, Everybody’s Favorite Uncle

The Memories of a Soldier

The Cold War of change, is an unblinking man’s game.

The face warping, with rage and heart ache.

The way the ground shakes, and everything decays. Like the mind slipping away.

Two friends go to war, and kill each other over the very last cigarette.

Because the pain is just too much to bear, at the empathy of this man’s share.

A mother and daughter both fall into the joker-pit. The soul is a kite—

hanging in the balance.

The way the average stay average, and the alive only dies.

Two buildings tell each other war stories, until the other one falls down from old age.

Two flags frolic in the breeze, until the rips from fabric-skin tears at the seams.

And as it seems, they that lead. They that need, and they that dream.

Only the mind is the light in the attic; the same one afraid of change—

that fears to proceed.

There is no war, and yet my eyes still shake,

from the heart beating knives, and the war torn heart aches.

Does War Have Emotion?

The pilot in the air. The killing air.

Soldier on the ground; The killing fields.

A soul in limbo; another widow.

For the ground, a quicksand abyss;

and it is indeed the quote, the very saying in this;

if you stare into the void, the void stares back with a thousand yard stare.

Finding hope, on the battlefields of despair.

Galloping to and frou, you lonely soul. Following the Freedom Flag home.

The ribcage; iron bars.

My eyes hurt from seeing the pain; everything the light touches is a glass shard’s regain.

The regiment of valor, at war a’gain. The mind is a rock that is down to earth.

The clouds in the sky? Cotton balls; nothing but a floating hearse.

Pilots in the sky get hit with a missile; then their souls float the white chariots to heaven; where they are given their wings. A hit and miss swing through solid clear skies; and the rain is just the teardrops, falling down from their eyes.

For a warrior is cursed to fight; his anger inside.

The Earth is planet Mars’ war-torn brother in disguise.

The War torn Mind

The war torn mind, like an eye;

seeing the carnage unfold. The roving eye.

The apparatus on the battlefield, and the bullet rain.

The fatigues on the body, used for a shield. And the apparatus on the battlefield insane.

The rage, unlocked by war at the door. The knight is used for the fray;

And The Art of War he became.

The world at war, with it’s own hand; like the eyes at war with it’s own lids;

crimson arms, drenched in rain, leaving nothing behind but sin.

For two agro dudes, test their mettle; and to the death they duel.

It’s like two harlots, throwing steel into the flank of fate; and roleplaying as destiny’s fool.

And does the war ever end?

back to civilian life, does the war torn pilot glide;

he is but the angel of death in disguise; staring forth, and unblinking is his eyes.