There comes a time when a boy becomes a man.  It often does not occur in a bedroom, or in a van, or any special place.  A boy becomes a man when tossed into the elements, in the world, in a common place, in an extraordinary situation, all alone.  For a fifteen year old teenager, in high school, becoming a man meant riding big waves, radically, with commitment, for the entire world to see. For Wracks, his time comes now.

“Let’s go down to Diego, “says HP

“The surf is flat, I checked it myself,” says Cool

“There might be something coming in at staircase,” says HP

“Do you have smokes and brew,” asks Cool.

“We have smokes and brew, “promises HP, “I need company.”

“I have gas money,” says Wracks, “I’m in.”

“Get your gear and throw it in back,” orders HP.

Kool has a green Meth model shaped like a teardrop, and a green robe that grandma made him and a duffel bag filled with goodies and he tosses them all in the back hatchback of the yellow and white Volkswagen van.  Wraks has a purple and red second hand NatPro purchased for a song from Bee aye the seventh member of the room.  HP has a red pintail BK potato chip.  Wracks has drilled out the glassed in fin on his purple monster and installed a neon orange large fin of his own design.  The result yields a blatant diamond tail billboard meant to handle large surf.  He delicately places his board in the back of the van along with his blue druid robe and a sack of food liberated from his parents house.  The ride down to Diego bodes long and boring and Wracks falls asleep, like always on the bed in the back of the van as the tuned exhaust blare a blatant note of existence. 

Kool drinks a Budweiser sixteen ounce in a huge gulp, finds someone to throw the can at and heaves the crumpled mass at them on the freeway.  The can bounces off the windshield of a sedan, the sedan swerves and an angry driver displays the finger to Kool.  Kool displays the finger back and grabs a cigarette, then lights the Marlboro with a Bic butane lighter, smiles and draws a huge puff from the reefer. The who blares from a tape deck suspended from the metal dashboard of the van and time passes.  Smoke drifts in eddies out the side exit windows and the town of little happenings comes into view.  Looking down the cliff, the three surveys the beach break with rocky reefs interspersed amongst the long expanse of sand.  The waves break at two to three feet with a light wind blowing the soup into a delicate froth of soup.   

“Let’s go to seven eleven.”  Says HP “ I am hungry.”

“Yeah dah.” Screams cool, “Hamburger, candy and a huge slurpee to go for me.”

The yellow white van growls into town and the first 7-11 looms in front of it.  HP pulls in, he and Kool exits the car and go inside the store.   They both return with brown bags and large slurpees in blue and red cherry.  Wracks eats his bread, a packet of Kraft cheese bits  and savors a can of red sugared coca cola. 

“We are going to Windiness, “   smiles HP

“The cashier inside the 7-11 says that a hard south swell currently focuses on Windiness and the surf should be larger there. “

“I have never been to Windiness,” says Wracks

“The break appears to be a deep-water reef close to shore and the waves break right and left depending on the season and the swell direction.” In the summer the lefts are better.  “It is only fifteen minutes more, over the bridge, at the entrance to Diego Bay.  A colony of small house situates there and the person at the forecasting station told me where we could park safely.”

Over the grey steel bridge and into the southern part of the niche, before Crown beach go the three surf riders with hopes, dreams and ambition.  In ambition, comes excellence and today the excellence tests under the envelope of big.  Windiness beach looks like a short beach strewn with rocks, typical of southern California beaches.  Windiness sets straight like a flat beach break except here, south of The Niche, the bottom of the ocean a hundred yards out spans deeper than one thousand feet.  For this reason, ocean swells attract to the reef and rear up suddenly out of the deep water and break hard with much mass and water coming over  with the breaking wave.  Wrack’s looks out the side window of the van and Windiness, today breaks at over twenty five feet in height.  A tall man in a white helmet and long surfboard enters a huge swell and turns his huge board and banks toward shore on the huge wall of water.  The wave at Windiness rears up as a huge triangular peak and breaks in both directions. At this point in time the lefts break better.  A slight offshore wind makes the surface conditions epic in nature and the waves carom to completion with spray dancing off the top of the breaking waves.  Don’t ever surf deep water windiness alone!

“I think the waves are too large for me,” whimpers Wracks

“We are parking and you are going out,” screams HP. “The conditions are epic and half of Diego watches on the beach.  If you start to drown, they will call a helicopter.”

“Twisted,” screams Kool and the crowd on the beach turn their heads for a second and look at him. Kool tears his clothes off like a man possessed and stark naked pulls on his wetsuit like a hotdog stuffing machine.  Today Windiness breaks like big Pipe on the takeoff and Kool rides goofy foot.  Both HP and Kool prepare with amazing speed and run toward the entry spot on the beach.  They both run to the water and cast themselves out like torpedoes steaming out of a submarine.  Wracks  remains stolid and slowly waxes his board and counts the set waves.  The sets are four in number with the second wave the largest and the sets periodically appear at twenty minute intervals.  Wracks’    decides to paddle out.  At windiness, a channel to the right of the reef sucks water out in a huge riptide when the waves break large and wracks enters the entry zone and the rip aids the paddle out into deep water and big waves.  Out in the middle of the ocean, an extraordinarily large set hits the reef and Wracks gets caught inside the area where the wave breaks and loses his surfboard, comes up after the set and finds him in the middle of nowhere in twenty foot plus waves.  He sees the older man in a helmet and asks him for help.  The older man says,

“Son, in big surf, you have to swim in.  If a rip pulls you out the only way in is to body surf the waves in.”  Wraks again asks him to help him in.   The man in the helmet repeats his command. “Body surf the waves in,”  “It is the only way. “

In large surf the ocean heaves in turbulence and without a wetsuit, most people soon drown.  Wracks  starts to back stroke his way into the beach.  The riptide hinders his exit.  A huge set hits the reef.  Wracks turns into freestyle stroke and scratches hard to enter the twenty foot high wave.  The wave picks him up and Wracks hydroplanes down the face of the wave using his hands like fins  At the bottom of the wave, Wracks turns and points toward the open area and the wave overtakes him and pushes downward, deeply and the turbulence spins him around like an old rag doll.  When deep under water all watermen open up their eyes.  Watermen open up their eyes to see where the bubbles go.  Where the bubbles move signals the direction up.  Wracks swims in direction of the bubbles, breaks surface, and gulps down a huge amount of air.  A second wall of white   water hits his body and Wracks goes underneath again.  Watching the bubbles, he swims upward and breaks surface again.  The set of waves concludes and Wracks has been pushed inside towards the beach and exit from the breakers seems possible.  Within ten minutes, wracks scrambles up on the beach and looks for his board.  Some kind of observer rescues his board from the rocks and sets the purple explosion on a safe stretch of beach.  Wracks sits  on the beach and looks again at the breaking waves.

“It wasn’t so bad,” he thinks, I am going back out.”  

Wracks’ grabs the reins of his horse, gets back on and rides again.  Luckily, no huge close out clean up sets made him swim in again.  Both HP and Cool surf as the time of their lives on the left breaking waves, just like Pipeline.  Wracks surfs the rights which break slower and mushier but still huge in size.  Wracks’ gets three huge set waves presently, and successfully performs two rollercoaster reentries in double overhead plus surf.  Wracks notes that the bottom turns feel good with the large custom fin.   By three o’clock PM. HP waves from the beach and heads up to the car at a parking place that mysteriously appears out of nowhere for the three at this exclusive and fabulous colony community.  The three exhausted wave riders strip their wetsuits and dress slowly.  Then the three sit inside the car and devour whatever remains of food in the car at hand.  Windiness a normal winter surf spot, breaks at incredible size on a hard south east swell, don’t tell anyone.   

“That was epic,” says HP “Awesome radical lefts.”

“Tubular,” asserts Kool as he smiles largely and eats a two foot long beef stick.

“I got two really good ones,”  says Wracks  “I can’t go left yet.”

“I have to work tonight, “ says HP, “lets go.”

The white and yellow van roars to life as the megaphone exhaust shakes and belches mist out of the header.  The van rolls over the bridge, gets on the interstate five and the three head for home.  HP smokes cigarettes, drinks a coca cola and drives.  As usual Wracks falls asleep.  Kool chain smokes and drinks a Budweiser red sixteen ounce beer.  Wracks  wakes up at the refinery, and again at dismal canyon road, past the high school.  At the corner of Mellow man’s lane, Bacon way and Saint Inez sits the Wracks house, with grandma, the dog, and a little bit of home.  Wracks and Cool pull their gear out of the van and Cool takes his board and duffel and disappears down the street towards Marco’s way.  Wraks rinses off his gear with cold water and enters his house.  The little dog wakes up, yelps and seems to smile.  No one resides within except for grandma who sits in her room and watches Lawrence Welk reruns.  She wave at wracks and smiles. 

“I will make dinner in fifteen minutes,”  says Wracks

Wracks finds some chicken with wine left over in the refrigerator, and puts the mass into the microwave oven.  The oven hums, the dog runs in his sleep on the cushion, the house darkens as light leaves the remains of the day, and night in tranquil hills begins.  Here nothing becomes of what it seems.  

Wracks never rode the waves at windiness ever again.  The drive remains too long especially for a person who does not own a car.  The secret of windiness remains.  When a huge storm turns off the coast of Antarctica, in the west, extreme south swells focus on south facing beaches on a north stretch of land.  A huge offshore canyon at windiness captures extreme south swells and Windiness can be twenty feet when everywhere else looks as flat as a lake.  Everywhere of course, except Jalama and the extremely well kept green custom houses last another day in a time when darkness and immensity threaten the world and the intrinsic fabric of mankind. If a wave rider surfs windiness alone, watch out for great white sharks as Simmons disappeared mysteriously there one day in big surf. 

All night long high winds and rain that goes sideways, a fusillade Ocean View.  Lightning booms and light arcs through the window shades and then sleep overtakes Wracks in his little room in the corner, shrouded by trees in the enclave next to campus.  Morning arrives and sunlight beams across the window onto the living room.  Cool sits at the kitchen table along with Koest, an old friend from tranquil Hills.  

“When did Koest get here,” asks Wracks

“He came in last night and you were asleep.” Says Kool.

“I checked out Campus point and Coal oil point and they are at least fifteen to twenty feet. Lets hit it.” Says Wracks.

“No!” “We are going to surf El Cap this morning.”  States Kool.

“I’m ready,” says Koest.

“I have to have a cigarette and a cup of coffee to get me up,” says Wracks

“I will be loading the van,” says Kool.

El Capitan State Beach Park exists as a special place, a hidden place, a secluded place, far enough away that nobody goes there.  To arrive at El Capitan, he or she drives north on Pacific Coast highway one for two hours until they see the big green and brown sign to turn off.  A few miles up the coast from El Cap, situates the City of Gaviota and Gaviota Point State Beach.  Out in the lineup at El Capitan, a rider can see the point of Gaviota in the distance. This is the land of huge white sharks.   Looking in from the air, El Capitan lays as a large comma shaped point oriented in the southwest direction.  Boulders, stones and pebbles form the large point and a campsite resides inland surrounded by large pine trees.  A parking area situates at the tip of the point so day users can enjoy the scenery.  Out in the ocean sit the majestic Channel Islands and the water is dark grayish blue.  From a surfer’s point of view, El Capitan provides a point break type wave that tunnels in six inches of water.  The breaking wave throws inward farther out then it is high.  Although not as pretty as the Banzai Pipeline, El Capitan point breaks with more force and more danger.  The down side of El Capitan State Beach Point stems from its geography.  For the most part, the beach sits in the shadow of San Nicolas Island and Santa Rosa to the south.  For this reason, on a large West swell, El Capitan State Beach point will break half the size of Campus point on the same west swell.  Additionally, the city of Gaviota to the north pumps all the farm waste and sewage directly into the ocean and the area has the notoriety as another shark pit in the red triangle of death.  The factor that allures all wave riders is the reality that El Capitan Point break waves break in a tube that throws out farther than the wave is high.  For example, a six foot wave will be a six foot square cavern breaking down a long point in shallow water. Today four other wave riders brave the white sharks and sit in a pack at the peak.  The tide looms high and backwash from the point balloons the waves into huge monstrosities of pain.  Where Campus turns at twenty feet clean rulers, El Capitan at this moment vomits ten foot ugly monsters down a gravelly, rock strewn point. 

“I’m out,” says Koest. “I may never get the chance to surf it this big ever again.’

“Yeah Dah,” screams Kool.  “I’m goofy foot,” and he waxes his board with paraffin, smokes a cigarette and drinks a Heineken lager beer.  Kool pulls out a large beef stick food item, chews it down and washes the bolus down his throat with beer.   After hiding his car keys, Kool grabs his red Nat Pro pintail gun and runs to the water and is in and paddling.  A huge set rolls in and Kool pushes through a feathering lip and makes it outside alive and unscathed.  Koest and Wracks slowly wax up and survey the lineup.  The sets arrive every twenty minutes and the biggest wave is either the first or second one.  Wracks and Koest hit the beach, time the sets and set outward.  Wracks waits outside as usual so not to compete for waves in the pack.  Wracks wants the big one.  Within a half hour, a big one rolls in, Wracks commits, and is engulfed a huge disgorging, upchucking beast.  At the bottom Wraks turns, drifts up the face, sets his edge, puts his hands together and prays.  The wave turns in front of him, closes around him, convulses and disgorges the wayfarer after four seconds of pure speed.  Wracks glides out of the thing, makes a few turns and kicks out of the wave.  As Wraks paddles back up to the peak with the pack, Koest screams by on a mutant clone and Wracks sees him grit his teeth as he holds his rail backside and accelerates past him.  Kool has the time of his life, screams and starts to attract big shark.  On his third wave, Wracks breaks the nose off of his board in the shallow water but paddles back out and surfs a nose less board covered with duct tape. 

“I might never catch El Cap this big ever again,” thinks Wracks.  Wracks is right.  He will never see El Capitan state beach ever again. 

“We are leaving,” says Kool “The waves drop in size as we speak.”  “Let’s go surf some lefts.”

The Three throw their boards into the brown and yellow van, strip their wet suits, have a cigarette, dress and enter the van.  Koest rides shotgun.  Wracks lies on the bed in back with the boards.  Kool lights a cigarette and pulls another Heineken from his cooler, pops the top with an opener and gulps the whole bottle down in a single draw.   The tuned exhaust on the van booms a raspy growl and the three head out of El Capitan State Beach Park.  Halfway done, the day rolls on, the sun, beams down proudly and few clouds from the previous big storm remain.  Ten minutes down south from El Capitan, sits a deep water reef that breaks left.  At this instant the reef shows at least twice overhead.  

“I am going out,” says Kool

“Me too, says Kost.

The two drag on cold, cold, wetsuits, wax their boards and head down to the reef.  Wracks sits in his Druid robe, smokes a cigarette and watches. He feels sick and weak.  The nose of his Nat Pro homebrew board will half to be glassed back on his board at home.  Wracks does not want to risk ruining the entire board so he refrains from joining the two and surveys the world.   Kool and Koest nab big waves on the reef and surf until they cannot paddle any more.  Arriving quietly back at the van, they dress and the crew drive down PCH back to Island view community. Back at the apartment, the gear stows inside and Wracks sits down on the couch.

“I have to do homework,” says Wracks

“Me and Koest are going to Big D’s, says Kool

“Big D is having a party.”

“Have fun,” says Wracks

The wrack never has the chance to return to El Capitan State Beach Park and look at ten-foot waves.  Like Malibu, the bigger it is the better it breaks.  Maybe the location sits too far away.  Maybe El Cap does not share the things that make a return visit possible.  Maybe the place looms too remote, too secluded and too unpopulated to return to conscious memory.  Wracks never gets to test the secret of El Capitan State Beach Park Point.  A local that day confides to him to check the break on the next huge southwest swell.  The Secret of El Capitan Point is this:  the spot locates exactly at the gap between Santa Rosa Island and San Nicholas Island.  On a big southwest swell, the waves sneak through the gap and focus on El Capitan State Beach.  The local says, “El Capitan breaks biggest and has the best form on a big southwest swell contrary to popular opinion.”  El Capitan breaks better in the summer and when time exists for you, be there on a big southwest swell.” Wracks never receives the luck to test the secret suggestion.  Possibly the local wants Wracks to be eaten by a big white shark, in the summer when they are most active.  The secret remains untested until the next generation in their youthful exuberance happen upon El Cap in the summer, on a road trip, when southern hemisphere cyclones generate huge swells.  Wracks sits in his little den, with a light, a cigarette, and a cup of coffee and a loaf of bread and studies Newtonian Calculus.  In the den, in the apartment surrounded by a grove of trees in an obscured location shaded from the sun, Wracks stays nurturing Cools hydroponic garden until the quarter concludes and the stay in Island View comes to an end.

Laser Optics

Laser optics defines the science of producing coherent light of amplitudes sufficient to deliver energy at a distance.  Laser light origination follows from a correlate of Einstein’s photoelectric effect that won him a Nobel Prize in 1925.  When an energetic photon enters the Heisenberg uncertainty area of a electron shell, the quantum orbital absorbs the incident photon  and reradiates the energy in a photon of lesser energy but of coherent nature as symbolized by Plank’s relation E= h times the frequency of the incident photon. The nature of the reradiated photon reflects the quantum level absorbing the incident photon and reradiating a coherent photon of lesser energy.  For example, if a photon of energy x becomes captured by an orbital of radius y then the difference in energy levels between the absorbed photon and ground level orbital signifies the energy of coherent photon emitted as laser light.  X1-xotimes 1/plank’s constant gives the frequency of resultant photon.

Lasing substrate

Transition metals that undergo oxidation states up to +6 become ideal candidates for laser substrates.  Forming a crystal from transition metals or rare earth metals is the substrate for photons directly related to the quantum structure of the crystal atoms as specified by the periodic table of the elements.  Corundum which is an allotrope of aluminum and silicon is the prototype ruby red laser of historical import.  A crystal of gallium silicon or pure crystallized carbon yields lasers of characteristic frequency and intensity.  In general, any atomic mass that can form a crystal lattice of various oxidation states is a candidate of being a laser substrate.  The amount of Avogadro’s number of crystal atoms is proportional to the resultant emission of coherent photons. 

The total Avogadro mass of laser substrate determine perigee amplitude of laser emission. The energy of incident radiation directly proportions to frequency of resultant emission.

Pumping a laser substrate

Incoherent light historically engenders the excitant energy of a ruby rod laser.  ANY TYPE OF RADIANT ENERGY CAN AND WILL BE USED AS AN EXCITANT IN A LASER OPTIC SYSTEM.  Light is the most obvious example.  However, electromagnetic radiation can pump a laser substrate. Fast Neutrons can pump a laser substrate.  Pure energy from antimatter annihilation can pump a laser to fearsome magnitude. Both nuclear reactions and hydrogen fusion can pump a laser substrate and tailor the resultant frequency and magnitude of emitted radiation.

Applications

As in all actions historically touched my mankind, the primordial application of applied physics is in warfare.  Blasting lasers, melting lasers, drilling lasers will be used to destroy or render inoperable hardened sites or machines of war.  In a peaceful environment huge industrial lasers will drill wells and mine shafts in seconds. Ultimately, energy will be transmitted not by electrons in high tension wires but by photons directly beamed to parabolic absorption units and converted to electrons by Einstein’s photoelectric effect and then used in households.  Transmitting energy with light is more efficient and less transmission loss occurs. Information in data packets will be beamed at the speed of light and captured by absorption domes for processing. Fiber optic fibers have transmission loss due to total internal reflection.

The future

The future becomes the child of intrepid warriors who dare to be sublime.

Your own little world in a room with a lamp and lots of picture books to look at and read.
Mom says Kool is coming to pick you up and take you out because it is getting weird.
Yes Mom
get in some jeans and a nice shirt, he says he is taking you to the club
Kool has long wavy brown hair down to his shoulders, he says it is for work. He got tired of running a skip loader on the job and watching when subs try to sell you inferior supplies.
The door rings and the Wracks lets him in. He wears a denim shirt that Grandma embroidered for him wish multicolored embroidery and swirls all over because Grandma is a seamstress. She has a bad heart and inherited it from her family in France.
Lets go says Kool, we have an invite to the club on the strip, the los Piedras are going to have a birthday party in the Over the rainbow club. The big red Ford F140 pickup truck with a plastic liner for excavation tools. There is no stereo. It gets ripped off he says. Kool opens a new pack of Marlboro reds, extracts one, hands to the Wracks and says
Light it for me.
Moonrise boulevard is a beautiful street strung through beautiful housing filled with beautiful people, with plenty of non-olfactory money that even the great Gatsby would envy. In the sixties and early seventies the richest people in the United States owned a house or condominium in L.A., and now is real and new. The Wracks doesn’t think most of them are Christian.
It is a club, it is square, and of two stories and it sits on a big lot with plenty of space for parking automobiles. All the well to do have big cars.
What is your name says the big bouncer, with taboos in a french T shirt with muscles bulging out of nowhere. Here, I am the law he says
Kool, you are in, enter, who is the runt your bring with you? He is under age but he is with me and we are going to a special party.
O.K. go, you are in
The club is a typical bar, with plenty of bar and plenty of booze and something else if you have money. On the corner is a dance floor where local bands slam their amplified sounds into distortion boxes so pathoknemonic of the generation. In the back of the club is a long stairway or should I say ramp up to the Over the Rainbow Club. Wracks and Kool walk to the top of the ramp and there stations a gate with a man in a suit with dark hair, olive complexion and big nose. He must be roman, thinks Wracks
The Piedras are throwing a party tonight says Kool, We are invited. The Italian looks at the Wracks and exclaims, is this the star child, and people inside turn their heads and smile.
Go on in says the Manager. If the police swarm in go to the bathroom and dump it, the toilets are the biggest that money obtains and they will flush anything. Have fun.
Kool and the Wracks find a booth for four people and sit down. A young waitress stops by and says what will you have.
I want a Gin and tonic, double, with a sprig of mint.
I want……says Wracks
You are getting a Rob Roy says the beautiful like money waitress. You are under age.
Ok says the Wracks and he pulls a Pall Mall gold cigarette from his lapel pocket that he bummed from his fathers stash. He lights up and savors his Rob Roy.
I have to go talk to the Piedras, says Kool, they all have south American girl friends, can you tell?
The Wracks goes to the small bar with his glass to get a refresher. Sitting alone at the bar is e street. He sits alone, very alone, and drinks, and the glasses line up in front of him like a wall and his long black curly hair and rough shaved face look up at the mirror in the bar asking for deliverance.
I drink alone he says
Nice to meet you says the Wracks and he goes back to his table. The manager appears and says to the Wracks. I hope you like our place says the manager, your Godfather owns it, and he hopes that you have a wonderful time at his house. The drink is complimentary.
Do you like that barmaid with the long brown hair, dressed in a mini-skirt with stockings.
She is pretty says the Wracks
She is a doctorate student in Engineering at UCLA, would you like to meet her
To be honest sir, I wouldn’t have the foggiest notion of what to do with her.
Suit yourself says the Manager, Have a good night. It was nice to meet you
The Piedras are having a whale of a time, and the disco tunes are up loud, there are presents and wrappings and bows at the table with the big family. A waitress brings in from the kitchen a huge silver platter with a silver top, sets it on the table, takes off the top and there is a large round white cake, that looks to be fake and she leaves and disappears. The head of the Piedras takes the cake with both hands, lifts it up and underneath is a huge mountain of white, cleanly shaved. It is not regular white, cut white, but slivers of crystal, lighter than air that seemingly float away.
The host smiles and everyone takes a large tablespoon and digs a heaping helping of hospitality.
Get a noseful, says Kool, the host wants you to have a noseful.
Will it hurt says the Wracks?
No it wont says Kool
I feel different says the Wracks, kind of like in outer space. Is this stuff supposed to make you feel sexy?
That what they say says Kool. I am going to get another piece of cake.
Time moves on, People of all sorts stop by at the table and when they see the Wracks is not a rich midget, they move on, and the disco plays, south American women dance and the night is long.
We got to go, says Kool, I have a private party to attend at 2 AM, go find the truck.
The ride on moonrise boulevard around 12 AM is a well lighted montage of well polished decadence. Bacon way is just a chuleta away and the Wracks waves as Kool turns around and drives off. He puts his key in the front door, opens it and to his amazement, Grandma stands there in her bathrobe waiting for him.
I wanted to make sure you are all right she says
Yes I am Grandma, now you can go to bed.
The Wracks takes off his clothes, says a prayer, and hopes that tomorrow twenty foot waves will hit the coast. Even Panga is good if you can dodge the rocks, he thinks. And the moon, and the moon rays stream into the bedroom, through the curtain, with aplomb, and the world is beautiful once again.

Wracks is walking down his canyon with his homemade surfboard. It was supposed to be a pintail minigun, but eck and big D were high and turned the template backwards and it turned out to be a minipin. It works well nonetheless with hard down rails almost square. The canyon is his canyon, shared with one other, and all the wildlife that were there are now gone. The scrub and scenery and dried up riverbed coalesce to an exit near the all religions sect, and the Wracks walks to go surfing. He doesn’t have a car. He is too wild and reckless says his mom. The Wracks is going to surf the Bu. Malibu, shows its best shape on a west swell and when it hits a rider can ride it all the way in. Of course Malibu gets biggest on a long period southern hemisphere swell, but now, in the winter, a west is best. All his friends are at pipe with the IC, surfing Lanikea early in the season, and Sunset when there is no swell. Like Eddie taught Wracks, surf Sunset when there is absolutely no swell in the winter on the north shore, It will be six to eight feet on the inside and perfect. Never surf Sunset when it is big, if you wipe out the currents will drag you all the way to Kwai. Right now Wracks walks down Moonrise boulevard to PCH and will hitch up to the Bu. On the corner, down from Fort on the sand up to the mountains, the Wracks sticks out his thumb and hitches a ride with his backwards minigun.
The Wracks waits for at least thirty minutes with no takers and is thinking of surfing the mush at moonrise point like the pick used to do. Finally a dark grey Ford van, looking brand new slows down and a man rolls down the passenger window and says
Hop in.
The man seems of average height with black, immaculately coffered hair and wears an impeccable grey suit, almost the color of the van. The Wracks opens the side of the van, puts his surfboard on the bed and notices that the entire cab is soundproofed. He doesn’t care, it is a ride
Once in the man with dark eyes and a handsome face, closely shaven says to him,
where are you going
Up to Malibu says Wracks. Want to smoke some puff. It is brown tops from Columbia and it makes you one of the mumbilese. Hp got it for me. I have lids.
Light one up says the man
The Wracks pulls a doobie from his vest pocket and lights it with his Bic lighter. He passes the joint to them man. He takes a puff and inhales it deeply. He hands the joint back to the Wracks.
Together they smoke the joint and the Wracks throws the splib out the window. Soon they arrive at Malibu.
This is where I get off says the Wracks.
The man pulls over, the man in a suit and tie, ready to go to an executive brunch but driving a van without windows. The Wrack retrieves his board and says thanks, the man waves and says
good luck, I have some work to do.
And the door closes and the van slowly accelerates and heads north. Malibu want that good that day, about three feet with decent shape and a westerly wind at 10 miles per hour. The beach people are there, the girls are there, wearing windbreaker over their sheer bikinis and the Wracks goes out an soaks like a tea bag and puts his belongings at the wall where the crew nestles. When he is done, someone offers his a ride south and he throws his board on top of his car and rides down to moonrise point. He gets out and starts to walk up the canyon past the fort of the sand secret street with the vampire at the top. The brush is green because it rains in southern California in February and March, and he walks up the canyon toward his home on Bacon way. Once inside he cuts a chunk of cheese and has a cheese sandwich with a coke. The sunset in Tranquil Hills is beautiful and different and almost every day, and the night divides the day. Try to run, try to hide, break on through to the other side. That what he said thinks the Wracks, and the tensor lamp is on and night ensues.

Overview

Building a hydrogen bomb is quick and easy.  The difficult part lies in the effort to obtain enriched uranium or plutonium to be used as a detonator.  The critical mass of plutonium lies within forty to sixty pounds of enriched fuel.  If such a mass lies in one place, it begins to fission.  The fission reaction builds to crescendo and the fission nucleus becomes a fissile.  A hydrogen bomb can be ignited with a fissile. The color of fast neutrons screaming from a fissile pile demonstrates as a sky blue light of amazing intensity.

Fission devices

An atomic bomb can be either a fat boy device or a thin man device.  A fat boy device builds as crescent wedges of plutonium that assemble into a sphere.  The wedges drive together with the force of an explosive blasting cap. Thin man device evidence as three rods of enriched plutonium that fit in a tube.  The three remain separated until driven together by a blasting cap.  The thin man design remains as the most reliable of the atomic bomb designs and the Russians use this design solely in their atomic devices.

Their possibility exists for other ways to coax subcritical masses of plutonium to fission.  Submitting enriched plutonium masses to intense pressures forces the plutonium to fission.  Spinning spheres of plutonium at high rotations per minute stimulate plutonium to fission.  The half life of plutonium is around 5280 years at which time a plutonium atom degrades and emits a fast neutron.  The capture area of slow neutrons in a plutonium atom is small so that random degradations do not initiate a chain reaction.  Crushing or spinning plutonium increases the capture area as an arithmetic function of rotational velocity or when spinning as a   circle inscribed by a rotating mass with radius alpha. By artificial means such as the aforementioned, subcritical masses can be cajoled into a chain reaction.

Fusion bomb design.

Classically, an atom of deuterium fused with an atom of tritium becomes an atom of helium with a liberated mass deficit in energy.  The truth exists to the effect that all alkali metals in the periodic table of elements can be fusion fuel if the conditions of fusion are met. Quantum physics is the same idea as chemical enthalpy in the equation delta H equals the energy of the system times pressure and volume. A hydrogen bomb, simply stated; is an atomic bomb with hydrogen surrounding the fission mass.  The hydrogen can be in the form of tanks of gas or as a hydride. Hydrogen gas remains the most stable form of hydrogen to be used in a fusion device.  Hydride may be better; lithium hydride might be best.   Pure lithium metal undergoes atomic fusion and the calculated mass deficit of lithium fusion equals the mass deficit of hydrogen fusion into helium.  The next generation of fusion devices will use lithium metal as fusion substrate.  Each element in the alkali earth metals can undergo fusion if the increasing activation energy proportional to the atomic mass is achieved.   With the knowledge of the above parameters, miniaturization of fusion devices becomes possible and within the realm of plausibility.  Achieving a temperature of 5000 degrees in a closed system may coerce fusion in a deuterium-tritium system.    Spinning subcritical masses of actinide-lanthanide purified metals at high rotational velocity can initiate fission in a subcritical mass.

Peopleism

God gave man the gift of intelligence and thought to separate him from animals and beasts.  The strict policing and governing over enriched uranium and plutonium production ensures no criminal to access the basis for explosives of incredible magnitude.  As is the plight of human existence that continues, small lithium bombs on portable hand-held missiles will soon enter the theatre of modern warfare. The burden of the next generation will be the humane and constructive use and application of nuclear power in an atmosphere of permissiveness and proliferation.  

A winter wonderland greets the imagination on Monday morning.  The snow is ten feet high.  How this much snowfall can occur in two days remains a mystery to the wracks.  One of the residents who is a retired pitcher from a minor league team throws a packed snowball at the wracks head.  A good reaction time saves the day and a medical book takes the damage.  The blow stings the fingers exposed to the missile.  “Thanks for nothing,” Dr. w says.  “I like you,” says Dr. A.  He then proceeds to bean another helpless doctor in a white smock. “I love snowball fights,” he says.   The rest of the team hurries to the main building before Dr. A can pelt any more of us.  At the doorway is Dr. Lecter.  “Give me my key back,” he states with his hand outstretched like a beggar.  “I have it with me,”  says dr. w.  “Here it is nice and warm from around my neck.”  Thank you he says.  Dr. Beck storms into the room and says. “You bastards left on Friday without finishing interviewing the in patients.”  “I am going to flunk the lot of you,” he promises.  “I was here,” says Dr. w.  “Shut up, I was not talking to you.”   “We had to get out before the storm,” said the rich Dr. who drives a Lincoln town car.   “Your first duty is toward the patients,” stammers Dr. Beck.  “You have not heard the last of this.”  Dr. Beck then spins on his heels and vanishes in a flash of anger.   “After taking role, go to your respective wards and interview your patients,” says Dr. Lecter.  Back in the lockup Dr. Lecter and Dr. w. go to interview Mr. Glitz.  Mr. Glitz sits in the padded cell in a hospital gown and underwear.  “Mr. Glitz, a person can not run around hurting people and get away with it.” Says Dr. Lecter.  “I have my reasons,” says Mr. Glitz.  Mr. Glitz appears to be a Caucasian of average height and build in his early forties.  Brown hair and a fair complexion do not reveal that his job in Viet Nam was to interrogate prisoners and cut them with a bowie knife if necessary.  Dr. w pities the poor slob who gets in a knife fight with him. He has traumatic stress syndrome and when put under pressure has a breakdown and beats up everyone around him.  This could number up to ten people in an episode.  “Mr. Glitz,” says Dr. Lecter, “I hear you stopped taking your medication”.   “The medicine makes me restless and makes my jaw stiff, “says Mr. Glitz.   “We will change the medicine to something else that does not make you restless.”  Says Dr. Lecter.  “However you must stay here until you are stable.”  “When you are stable, you can go home.” “I understand,” says Mr. Glitz. “Hello Mr. Glitz,” I am Dr. w.  “I remember you.” says Mr. Glitz. “Nice to meet you,” Dr. w. says.  “Today you will administer Psychological therapy to Mr. Heim.  He is a paranoid schizophrenic who used to be a financial genius. See what you can do with him.  “I will,” says Dr. w.  “But first you are to interview Mr. O.  Your rotation nears its end.” I will be in my office.”  Dr. Lecter turns and disappears into the corridor.  “Be sure to maintain distance. He regards proximity as an affront and will break your nose.”

     “Hello Mr. O. “says Dr. R. “Can I sit down?”  “Silence” Dr. R pulls up a chair in front of Mr. O.  Mr. O sits in the recreation room in the Pookipsie VA center.  He wears a long red dress and a string of pearls around his neck.  His dark black curly hair sets close on his head.  He wears a big grin on his face. “Mr. O, how are you doing today?  Do you like your medication?” “Silence”  “Would you like to relay any concerns to Dr. Lecter? I will see him presently.”  “Silence.”   “Before I go, is their any thoughts that you would like to share with me.”  “Yes, he says.”  “Can I have two cigarettes?”   “Sure,” says Dr. w.  As Dr. w. hands the cigarettes to Mr. O, he keeps the distance between Mr. O and himself to a maximum and pays particular attention to Mr. O.’s hands.   “Thank you.” Says Mr. O.  “Good day. “Says Dr. w.  Dr. w then looks for Mr. heim.  Mr. heim locates in his room.  He is not so sociable.  “Can I interview you in the consultation area,” Says Dr. w.  “Yes,” says Mr. Heim Dr. w  leads Mr. heim to the consultation area.  He decides to use Rogers’s sounding board implosion therapy.  Mr. Heim is a small man with dark black hair and not muscular and should be easy to dodge should he decide to strike.  Rogers sound board implosion therapy translates to mimicking what a patient says or does just as they do it and locate the mimicry temporally so the patient sees for themselves what behavior they manifest simultaneously when they exhibit it. Mr. heim sits down and starts telling Dr. w about the stock “Chock full of nuts.”  Dr. w mimics him.  Mr. heim finally discovers that Dr. w repeats what he says like a tape recorder and starts making animal noises.  Dr. w mimics the animal noises.  Finally Mr. Heim leaps up on to the table, pulls down his pants and exhibits himself.  “That is enough.” Says Dr. w.  “Pull your pants back up.”  Do you understand the content of your verbal discourses?  They make me angry too.” “Some of what you say has no basis in reality.”  Mr. heim sits back in his chair and thinks about it.  The revelation becomes so awesome to his psyche that he sits their dumbfounded.  “Thank you for the interview. I must leave now.´” Dr. w gets up from his chair and with his eyes still on the patient fluidly exits the consultation room. Mr. heim sits their dumbfounded.  Dr. w moves on in his rounds. 

     Unless a person stirs the muck and becomes intrepid, nothing really happens in a Chronic Psychiatric facility.  The patients come and take their medication and sit like dazed animals in house until the Psychiatrist dischargers them.  Some patients stay forever.  Some patients return periodically as they lose the ability to cope with the environment.  Mental illness stigmatizes human beings. Mental illness is a self-fulfilling prophecy in the sense that if a person can not be trained in a new line of work they become slaves to the system and permanent part time inmates.  The urgency with mental illness remains to try to get the person back to reality in the workplace as soon as possible.  This maneuver becomes inordinately expensive.  Money has been and is the power to drive reeducation of a person with a shattered existence.  Without money to send a person back to school, to retain competent health advisors and physicians who monitor the chronic medication and to house mental patients, mental illness stigmatizes human beings and converts them to useless appendages of society who die alone, unhappy.  Most people can not afford the cure.   The cure comes from money, honesty and the undying care from health science personnel.   “Time for my plus three dinner,” thinks Dr. w

     On the last day of the rotation, Dr. Beck approaches me.  He asks, “What did you do to Mr. Heim.”  “Rogers sounding board reverberation therapy,” says Dr. w. “Sounding board therapy becomes efficacious when used with a high functioning schizophrenic who can learn from his behavior what works or not.”  “What ever you did cured him,” says Dr. Beck. “He is going home tomorrow.” “I guess I am really lucky,” says Dr. w.  “Thank you for the rotation.  I learned much about Psychiatry.”  “After you finish your fifth pathway, come back here if you want a job,” says Dr. Beck.  “Thank you very much, I will certainly keep your offer in mind.” says Dr. R.    

     In life luck is everything.  Beginners luck is even better.  Chalk one up for the gipper.  Victory is sweet

The train in Pookipsie looks like the train in Harry Potter’s “The sorcerers Stone.”  The train rambles slowly downstate and eventually ends up at Grand Central Station.  On the train sits Dr. w, in a suit and tie, with his bag of medical books bound for Amityville and the surgical rotation about to begin the next day.  The scenery in the country side after a late winter storm swims by slowly.  White juxtaposed on evergreen, separated by skeletons of ash and birch. Connote the scene.  Dr. w reads from one of his books and occasionally looks up to view the panorama.  The train rocks and sways, slows and lurches and rumbles with a knocking vibration heard and felt at the same time.  I will probably do simple stuff like wound suture and suture removal.  This will give me time to review for the California board Examination.  The train rumbled on and darkness slowly permeated the scene and the interior lights of the train card turned on.  The seats were comfortable enough and the comfort is the day drawing to an end.  Dr. w thinks he is on easy street.  Just a little cutting and tying in surgery and checking outpatient bandages, thinks Dr. w.  Amityville hospital is about to administer a surprise to Dr. R like he has never been surprised in his life. The hospital staff will also throw in the ICU as a bonus prize. “Tis folly to be wise when ignorance is bliss,” muses Dr. w.  “Amen.”  “…..and so it goes.” Time to pick up a copy of Farenheit 451.  Paper burns well. 

The need for human packed red cells and serum components to alleviate or stem chronic disease states is paramount.  When a human being is shot, or in a traumatic accident, or involved in a difficult birthing, blood products directly infused into the patient saves their life.  The human dilemma of life remains complex and the population at large as donors shows infection by viruses notably Hepatitis B and the AIDS virus.  As such, human populations are not good sources for transfusions.  Only when dire consequences mandate should human blood products be acquired and used to save lives.  The need for a synthetic blood source presses as the most important research topic in Medicine.  This brief essay aims at providing the insight and inspiration to create such technology that yields a Eureka of logarithmic magnitude. 

Human blood cells are biconcave disks coated with the protein spectra and invoked with an electric charge known as the zeta potential. Human blood cells are small and have no nucleus.  The lifespan of human red blood cells in the body is approximately 120 days.  Human blood cells are approximately seven microns in diameter; 45 mm cubed in volume, and holds a matrix of hemoglobin that complex to iron in the plus two oxidation state. The body uptake iron in the plus three oxidation state and converts it to the plus two oxidation state which readily binds oxygen in an electronegative van der Wahl’s reversible dissociation.  The crux of research aims to secure a synthetic blood source with the above physical parameters

Pig Blood

Blood from an aseptically raised pig may provide a suitable donor for emergency situations.  In the insulin molecule, pig differs from human in only one amino acid. Clinic studies show porcine insulin to be the most well tolerated foreign insulin for type one diabetics and similarly for donations of packed red blood cells, porcine allograph of red blood cells for short term therapy will be viable.

 Polymerized hemoglobin

The chemical feat of linking hemoglobin molecules allied with iron molecules has been achieved.  Unfortunately, polymerized hemoglobin clogs up the proximal nephron and puts the patient into renal failure directly and ultimately.  Otherwise, polymerized hemoglobin functions famously in the intravascular compartment.  Because free hemoglobin flows through the nephron filter without stopping and polymerized hemoglobin clogs up the kidney, the product is no longer used.

Genetic Engineering

The act of inserting the human ABO blood grouping system into porcine stem cells has not been tried. The protocol of inserting genes with Sendai virus shuttles or insertion of genetic material with micro capillary needles into the nucleus is old school technology.  The problem lies in keeping pigs clean enough to be used as donors for human transplants.   Pigs are farm animals. 

Chloroplasts and the future

Chloroplasts are a plants equivalent of red blood cells. Although smaller in size then red blood cells, chloroplasts are large enough not to fall through the 180 nanometer sieve in the proximal glomerulus. Furthermore, the dissociative ligand binding oxygen in chloroplasts is magnesium in the plus two oxidation state.  Whether the PKa of dissociation of oxygen for chlorophyll magnesium ion is similar to the dissociation PKa of iron hemoglobin has not been published in current medical textbooks. However, using chloroplasts instead of red blood cells is worth a clinical trial. The only drawback pertinent in using chloroplasts as donor cells is the green color imparted by the chlorophyll.  Patients given emergency transfusions of chloroplasts as oxygen carriers might turn green and start to look like the Jolly Green giant of vegetable fame.  Keeping plants aseptic and collecting chloroplasts remains far easier then advertising for human donors or fostering pigs in child care centers.  The use of chloroplasts as blood RBC products, and maybe potentially as energy sources for hybrid human species, is part of the future and subsequent analysis and discussion.

The RBC and the chloroplast have similar physical parameters of around 7 microns.   They are large enough not to slip through the fenestrations of the nephron.   While current discourse states that the chloroplast cannot carry oxygen like the RBC, magnesium versus iron +3, they can produce oxygen when exposed to visible light predominantly in the red region of the visible spectrum.   Therefore, infusing people with chloroplasts and irradiating them with visible light, the chloroplasts can produce enough oxygen for survival until a safe blood source acquires or the host replenishes the red cell mass.  At this point it seems pertinent to administer prednisolone because the auxiliary property of this corticosteroid is to stimulate erythropoiesis.    Like Thomas Edison states, “genius is 1 percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration’.   Back to dog labs and federal high security prisons for subjects.   An so it goes. 

 On the bulletin board in the staff area is a notice. The notice reads, “All residents and fifth pathway students report to Dr. Beck’s office at 0700 today.”   The whole gang of Doctors crowd into Dr. Beck’s small room with a huge brown desk.  Dr. Beck reports, “Everyone must leave the complex by 1500 today or stay here the weekend. A huge winter storm will drop at least eight feet of snow tonight and leaving otherwise will be impossible and dangerous.  Make all preparations for evacuation now.  The clinic will resume on Monday or Tuesday when the snow blowers clear the roads.  Any Questions?”

“What if you have no place to go?” asks Dr. Wracker. Dr. Beck says, “Anyone staying will assume the duties of the regular staff and remain in general quarters. The cafeteria will be open at a reduced level on standard meal times.”
Working in a Psychiatric hospital is boring. As long as a person integrates protocol into a mindless act, the rigmarole gets boring. Open the doors and make sure they are closed as a person exits. Genius experts evaluate each patient individually and place them on appropriate medication. What a clinical Psychiatrist does is watch for side effects of a particular medication and administer antidote or note overt change. Any dramatic change of a patient’s behavior in any way indicates failure to take the medication or evolution of florid psychoses mandating a change in pharmacotherapy. Most patients after evaluation and medication do not change very much and the evaluation of these patients becomes automatic and quick. The main exceptions are split personality, catatonic schizophrenia and undifferentiated Schizophrenia. A clinical physician treats all patients with these conditions gingerly, as stress precipitates psychoses with a violent outcome. Once a patient becomes violent he or she must be restrained, paralyzed with medication, and if no remission ensues ultimately terminated. To be a clinical Psychiatrist a physician must be highly intelligent to memorize the pharmacology of the medications and recognize symptoms, the side effects of the medications and the antidotes or remedies for treatment failure. A clinical Psychiatrist must be religious because mental patients in a high percentage are doomed to a precarious existence for life. Once a patient confines to a mental hospital, he or she most likely returns periodically until they die in an abbreviated and shortened life span. To realize most of your patients will die in a filthy or sordid way sobers even the most optimistic of human beings. If you choose surgery, it is a hopeless addiction.
Most young doctors come from rich families. Only rich families can afford the lengthy and expensive medical education. By 1400, all the residents and fifth pathway interns are on the train out of Pookipsie or hook up into carpools to take them downstate. These people will have a tremendous weekend because New York City never sleeps. A bar, a nightclub or restaurant remains open 24/7 somewhere in the city, usually on the upper-class side. All it takes is mountains of non-olfactory money spent in a casual and frivolous way. Money remains the rate limiting factor in the Gibb’s free energy equation. Probably if Wracks had money he would float on a surfboard somewhere in the sun. Dr. W makes his rounds and heads to the cafeteria for the one plus one plus one meal. “It’s so you do not get fat,” she says. Dr. Lecter finds him there. “Why aren’t you gone,” Questions Dr. Lecter. “I have no where else to go and no money.” says Dr. W. “I did not have anywhere to go either,” says Dr. Lecter. Here is the master key to all the wards. This key opens everything, anywhere on the complex. I want you to do morning rounds in our ward and again at 2300 hours before you turn in. We have a new patient from a wealthy family. He was a Viet Nam Veteran and forced to kill people with his bare hands. He was one of the last out at Da Nang. He has become violent and lies in a strait jacket in the padded holding cell. Pay particular attention to him. Remember; do not let chronic schizophrenics get between you and the door. I live close by and will remain in touch. Wear the key on your neck and sleep with it. If it is lost, all the locks in the whole veteran’s complex have to be changed.” “Goodnight,” he says as he walks off into the long corridor.
The Pookipsie Veterans Hospital is a huge apparition set in a park like arcade. The buildings link by means of catacomb tunnels with locked doors at each end. Large fluorescent lights hang in the long, cold, grey, concrete tunnels and sound echoes eerily and reverberates into nothingness. The environment is kind of like a Lon Chaney Frankenstein movie. It must be here where Lon got the settings for the movie. wracks walk alone here late at night in the tunnel leading to Ward 4. He sings and say words to see the ramifications of the reverberations. “Spooky,” Dr. W. says to himself. “Real spooky.”
When the Wracks arrives at Ward 4, everything is mundane. Drugs medicate the patients and they are asleep. The nurse, who looks overworked, stressed and tired, beckons to me from behind the glass blast shield. Dr. W waves back. Dr. W moves to the restraining cells and removes the shield from the glass porthole. As Dr. W Looks into the cell Mr. Glitz looks him back eye to eye in the glass. Only one inch of hardwood door separate our two faces. Mr. Glitz looks more frightened then mean. He must be frightened because he knows that payment is expected for his violent behavior. He stands in a strait jacket in hospital bed clothes. Wracks introduces himself. “I am Dr. W. I will check on you periodically this weekend. Do not be alarmed, nothing changed. Dr. Lecter will see you Monday morning. Get some sleep, it is late.” Dr. W. then looks into the room of the catatonic schizophrenic. Mr. M sits in his chair, wrapped in his usual sheets facing away from him. Dr. W looks away down the hall and looks back in through the porthole. Mr. M does not sit in the chair; he moved out of view. Dr. W instinctively checks the door to make sure it is locked. In ten milliseconds, Mr. M. senses his appearance and moves out of view. He could be juxtaposed behind the door if it is opened. Dr. W does not open the door and walks on. “Make a mental note,” Dr. W says to himself. “Mr. M can feel me.” Dr. W leaves Ward 4 and enters the tunnels. He walks alone through the tunnels. He makes sure the doors lock behind him. He enters the Residents lodging and his cubicle. Dr. W hangs his white smock on the door. Dr. W heats water with his tourist prong and makes instant coffee. Dr. W makes sure the key is around his neck. He adds powdered creamer to the coffee. Dr. W lights a cigarette, opens his books and reads until sleep overtakes him. Locked in a little room in the darkness with the door barricaded with a desk.

It is cold in Northern China, in the winter, away from the city. The wolves assemble, because they are a formidable force, together in a pack, and the temujin is there because no body else wants him. They look at him, and he looks back because he is theirs and they were his a long time ago. Now, amongst people he assembles an army, to unite a nation, but mostly to dispense the pagans who prey on the poor. His men are his, and he is theirs, and they fare well in a fist fight but now they have swords, spears, arrows and more. It is the temujin who invented gunpowder in a standard sixty-forty twenty mix, and his men, and his women, and their children bind bamboo together with sisal rope to make a tube, and with this makeshift canon, he destroys the world. They fire, rocks, stones, and grenades at an enemy that becomes no more. He takes their assets, mostly gold, because it is a noble metal, very strong, but with the ability to be forged with a hammer when warm, into shields, body armor and arrowheads because it is also heavy. His army bathes in gold, they dress in gold, pure gold, and their shields glimmer and reflect in the sun from miles away. The horses too, wear body armor. Leather when soaked in horse urine overnight and then dried becomes a plate that can turn an arow, a lance or an axe. They venture into battle, destroying everything, taking no hostages, and bringing the people together in a nation that will last a thousand years. The men, the women, and the horses too, live on rice made with a gravy simmered from blood. Rice is chosen over the other grains because it is portable, spoils very slowly and cooks in ten minutes. He is the temujin, and they are his men, and they are one, and the women sharpen their swords, rear the children, and care for the animals. In a well formed army, they are indispensable. In this era, with an attack by fire, that is chapter nine, no one can withstand them, no one will withstand them, and if they try, they will perish.
The temujin likes the Russians, maybe he might be part Russian, no one ever told him. He is an orphan. He marries Aphrodite Russia, queen of Russia, with the other and they produce children that color the Siberian epoch for years to come. Now he owns the world, the world is his and he and the other want to go home. The world is too big to rule alone. She is beautiful, even when she dies she is beautiful and Yahweh made her his gift to him for the ends of time. She is tall and strong and wears skin tight leather, not to show off her figure but because tight leather is hard to grab and hold. She wears a dagger in front of her thigh in a leather throng, and a broadsword hung on her back, not because she goes into battle, but because she has to protect his children. She stabs anyone with her dagger that approaches him from behind because he is the temujin.
time elapses and everyone is only here for an instant and the great nation is united, has a capitol and a successor. She eventually dies, in his arms, and he carries her body to the temple of Anghor Wat where she is entombed forever and for all to see because without her, it never would have happened. The temple in Cambodia at Anghor Wat is the holiest place in Cambodia and Gauguin are forbidden to enter it under penalty of death.
The temujin is human, and humans have enemies, and if they outnumber you, they will eventually win. The temujin eventually emigrates to Africa and sits with the great Nebucanezer the great of Africa, in Kenya, until his death. The temujin and Nebucanezer are burried side by side at Mount Kilimanjaro, and anyone who violates their grave will be entirely destroyed. The Nebucanezer who share the same eyes with the temujin are his descendent.
In military history, it is the weapons that define the army that prevail. Exceptional attacks come out of the sky, and a number greater than 3 wins. It is those weapons that are forgotten that become something today. They were called the golden horde not because their skin is yellow but because they dress in 24 carat gold. The wolves that assembled when he was there have gone into Siberia and they watch with bright eyes.