Finding Truth Forum TAKING ON THE TRUTH #1

Here we are, 2012, but twelve minutes a head
�hickery-tickery
tock�
You moved me in time, to save me from... pain?
Everything is now altered, though it all looks the same
�Tick-tock�

Or did you kill me for twelve minutes
�the mouse ran up the clock�
Did I sell you my soul?
I can see, it wasn't worth it at all!
�Tick-tock�

You said everyone will die
�the clock rang one�
This was the only way you said
But everyone's happy, what happened? I missed it
�The mouse fell down�

Sold my soul to fear, just to escape the unknown!
�hickery tickery
tock�
Stop singing, can't you see?
You're forever lost with me...
�Tick-tock�

The Harvest

A bleak future came today
as the harvesters arrive
from beyond Alpha Centuri,
load ships filled with human prions
to feed the native hunger
for the latest foreign craze.

A bleak future lies before us,
pushed through gates
and chutes like cattle
en route to certain slaughter.
Centurion ranchers own us
and they�ve come to cash their checks.

Twenty-twelve the year anointed
by Mayan astrologers in their wisdom,
or were they paid caretakers
who knew that when we bore fruit
Centurions would claim their fun
as the human race�s last was run?

Free will, well it�s illusion
when you�re just a foreign crop
and the harvesters are coming
to feed markets with their cunning,
The public wants its crazes
and the hunger never stops.

� 2007 David P. Eckert

two thousand and twelve
cherries blossom, buds wither
perhaps I shall too

Standing alone as the red sun rises
Expecting this day to be full of surprises
They say that the Earth ends today
But I�m not really one to pray

Reflecting on the past, hindsight clear
For our wicked lives, none shall shed a tear
Four numbers that spelled our last stand
Apocalypse in the sky and Armageddon on the land

And as the noon-sun engulfs us all
In our final hours, we stand tall
No regrets abroad, no remorse to be found
We�ll die not with a bang, but without a sound

The clock beats on, turning day to night
The stars in the sky shine particularly bright
The wind rises, sweeping over our vast metropolis
Today�s paradise, tomorrow�s necropolis

The digital clock reads one, one, five, nine
It appears as though our last moments will come just in time
Clouds obscure the moon and stars hold the sky
We all release one final breath; we�re ready to die

As the moon lowers in the sky and the waves leave the shore
We�re all still here and our spirits soar
The end of days was just a new beginning
The sun will shine and the Earth keeps spinning

On and on, our lives remain
Still full of love, still full of pain
So as we hold our lovers and the day leaves on a draft
We know that tomorrow we�ll all look back and laugh

But as tomorrow emerges and today fades away
We are still filled with somewhat dismay
For who can say what the next day will bring
Perhaps this was a test and tomorrow is the real thing

But it�s better that we can�t understand our fate
We can�t give it a face or mark it with a date
But we�ll tell you this on we stare into the face of dawn
Live your lives to fullest for when the end comes
We will all be gone

DECEMBER 20, 2012

Dear Diary,

I sit here in the darkness of my meager bedroom and stare out the window to the chaos below. I watch as the people hustle about franticly on the streets, absolutely ridden with panic and fear. I can�t believe how foolish they are acting. I can�t believe they have fallen for the garbage the media has been feeding them. It can�t possibly be that tomorrow is to be the last day of this earth. Do they really believe that tomorrow is to be judgment day, just because that was the last date on the Mayan calendar?

I mean seriously, what if the calendar maker just died before he made the next entry or what if he just got bored. I would think that since we have managed to create cars that fly, we would be able to predict the end of the earth. But, yet oddly everyone seems to willing to believe anything these days. Logically it doesn�t make sense that the Mayans could predict such a day, since they didn�t even believe in the same god as most of us do. How could they predict a judgment day involving a god they did not acknowledge? Beats me.

Mystery Inside



DECEMBER 21, 2012

Dear Diary,

Just as I had suspected the whole world had gone nuts over nothing. The worst thing that happened to me today was a scabbed knee. No judgment day today. Maybe next year?

Mystery Inside

It�s the end of the world as we know it- and I feel fine�

The song kept running through Jim�s brain as he scanned his article for errors one more time. It had been on the radio several times in the past week; sound bites played before every talk show from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Halifax, Nova Scotia and beyond. An odd blend of that song and White Christmas, coming from the office radio, drove Jim to take two concentration pills, just to get those songs out of his mind.
�End of the world driving you nuts?� Donald drained a cup of water and threw it into Jim�s trashcan. �Or is it just the Crosby deal?�
Jim saved his work and swiveled around in his chair to face Donald. �It�ll be the end of the world to Penguins fans if Lemieux goes through with it,� Jim yawned as Donald helped himself to the candy dish.
�So you don�t think it�s gonna happen?�
�Not really. It hasn�t happened now, why should it?� Jim questioned, taking a Tootsie Roll. Donald shrugged.
�Well, it is December 21, 2012: Our Final Day, as predicted by the Mayans,� Donald pointed out. �Even Fred Hansburger is letting people know!�
�Fred Hansburger is a talk show host who�s never taken a Theology and Theological History class in his life. He�s a political analyst; Hans is just as ignorant on the subject of the Mayan calendar as any member of the media present. But how should I know? I�m just- �
�Jim our Canadian hockey writer! How�s the article coming? Is Lemieux�s decision to send away Sid Crosby gonna halt the world, eh?� Harry knocked on the side of the cubicle before entering. His bright beam was almost too supercilious for Jim to handle. He turned back to his computer screen, scowled, pretended to look over the article, and turned back, wearing a new fa�ade.
�Lemieux is not making a statement on Crosby�s position until after Christmas, Harry. I think it�s the Pittsburgh media causing the Earth�s imminent demise,� Jim replied.
�No statement! We won�t be here at Christmastime!� Harry proclaimed.
�We will be,� Jim said. All the while, he fingered the little jewelry box inside of his pocket. �We will be, or else I can�t give Alexa her Christmas Eve gift.�
�Shame,� Harry said, not really listening. �Can�t you get some sort of statement? What about Crosby? Aren�t you guys buddies? You can get a statement from him, right?�
�Harry, for the last time, I don�t know Sidney Crosby! I know of Sidney Crosby, I�ve interviewed Sidney Crosby, but I�m not friends with Sidney Crosby!� Jim said before he could stop himself.
�Well get acquainted with him soon! Before this world ends, please!� Harry demanded.
�You know how improbable that is, Harry. The world won�t end today. Some say the Mayans never actually finished the calendars. There�s even one source saying when Europeans began drawing up the calendar for the next hundreds of years, they offset the actual year by one hundred years! So now it�s either 2112 or 1912, and either way, the world won�t end today,� Jim huffed.
�If it�s 1912, I better get Don on that Titanic article! Ships gotta sink!� Harry laughed. �Get in contact with your buddy Crosby. I want some sort of statement in your article!�
�He�s oblivious even when you�re the smartest of smart asses,� Donald observed as Harry left for his office.
�Oh yeah. I know Crosby. We�re best pals, seeing as there are only three other people living in Nova Scotia besides us,� Jim grumbled, ignoring Donald.
�You know Harry�s clueless. It�s not his fault he�s a prick,� Donald said, grabbing another piece of candy from the dish.
�He hired me because I�m Canadian. How much of bullshit is that?� Jim saved his article one last time and closed the document.
�But you wouldn�t have met Alexa otherwise,� Donald reminded him.
�I know. I know,� Jim said. A smile returned to his face. �We�re having dinner tomorrow night.�
�Really? Where?�
�The William Penn Omni Hotel. Don, do you think I should pop the question there? Or wait until Christmas Eve?� Jim asked.
�Wait. It�s more romantic that way,� Donald patted Jim on the shoulder. �I�m going home. It�s quittin� time!�
Jim passed his eyes over the computer�s clock and grinned. He logged off and snuck out of the office before Harry, who was on the telephone, could see him.
�If the world is ending, Harry, why are you still putting out a paper?" He laughed to himself.

That night, Jim sat at his home phone, attempting to reach the number of Superstar Sid Crosby, just to make Harry happy. After hours of frustration, he hung up and sat back in his chair. Useless. If anyone had a chance to get hold of him, the other Pittsburgh paper would have already picked up on the story. He shook his head. Slowly, Jim removed the little box from his pocket and cracked open the lid. A brilliant diamond stared back at him; it cost half a year's paycheck to buy, and he was proud of it. Would he be able to give Alexa this precious gift? The entire world would soon come to an end, and he would be left... where would he be left? No one knew what was to come; suppose nothing happened? The media wrenched into everybody's lives. Because of them, grocery stores were empty. Because of them, people overstocked in blankets. Because of them, churches were full. The world was in frenzy; after work, every man and woman, with child or children, flocked to the shopping malls to buy any last-minute necessities for when Satan devours the world. Jim thought it was ridiculous, however, a part of him said the lie was true. The world couldn't end just because an ancient calendar stopped on that certain day. It was almost laughable. Just as laughable as the millennium "Y2K" incident.
Jim closed the ring box and left it at his desk. The moon lit his entire apartment as he snapped the door to his room shut. December 22, 2012 would be a busy day. Jim fell asleep wondering how he would explain to Harry that Sid the Kid had no statement. At 11:59 pm that night, The Final Word swept across the world. The paper would never reach press.

How will it look to the kid
who'll wake up to find what all of man has done
comein' from greed and power, torture and pain
methods to fill their empty hearts
cheap thrills to make the sky rain hell

How will it sound as everyone screams
riots and booms explode in the streets
and as the mind of man turns
to steal from his neighbor
under firey skies raining hell

How will it look when those few who have power
who live to represent our voice
put their feet in thier mouths
and their heads up their a*s
light the fuse to get the sky raining hell

how can i say i'm the innocent one
america's son and a victim of nature
assimilation to the constitution
to take what i can as the sky's rainin' hell

I'm sure God'll be watchin
as man turns to man
to turn man to dust
and this gift of life
was burnt into rust
maybe God has something to do with it
but it's so hard to tell
where God and man'll be standing
in December 2012

Aug 22 2012
My birthday.
I think of all the birthdays I've had since now. Most of them were honored in the traditional way. Some were spent hard working in fields, stores, and warehouses.

I've watched my son grow to be nothing but a teenager. He died last week. The plague took his body and deformed his skin. I always thought he'd bury me. It was sad to see him go.

The fire gets brighter. It was miles away. I can't wait till it takes me. I can no longer walk. I am covered in sores from the plague that took both my wife and son. It will be a good day when the fire gets to my body.

My wife went first. Leaving me to care for my dying son. He was screaming as he looked at his mother one last time. I saved a couple of his tears. They're in a vile close to my heart.

I will leave this earth as nothing but dirt and ash. Hopefully God hears my call. Hopefully I will start my family again. Hopefully I won't have to bear this much longer. I will clutch what I have left of my son. I will die peaceful. I will die. I am acceptance. Thats all there is left.

He's coming accept our offering
Here, take it now it will soon be time
He's coming to end all of our crime
He's coming to end all suffering.

They say he'll take you in
Forgive your heart if you repent your sin
They say he'll leave no soul behind
His truth will show the way to the blind

He's coming now that time is short
To take account of all our deeds
He's coming with four coloured steeds
He's coming after hell's escort

He will take you in
If you just have faith in 'i am'
His will has come to pass
So drink from that everlasting glass

"Let the wicked still act wickedly, and the filthy still be filthy. The righteous must still do right, and the holy still be holy."