The First Hunt

The last bit to the Origins of a Powerbar series I started a while back, is finally done! =D

If you have yet to watch its predecessors, please watch them beforehand, below :

Equilibrium

Think of the world as a washing machine.

You and I, we are the clothes being washed.

With the current society at its peak, let's say we turn the dial to delicate, warm wash, 40'.

The Weight of Words

Like everything else on Earth that relates to the G-force, words too also have a weight.

Regardless if it's not an actual physical object or phenomena, it can affect and change us as much as physical contact can.... Maybe even more!

Words are like the weapons of mass destruction in the ethereal world. While you can force others to do something for you (good/bad), you would have to risk a retaliation. However, with words (the right ones), you can get people to "help" you willingly and happily (Zero-risk, everybody's happy, long-term commitments). 

Look at how the politicians today do it. They use words to influence our minds. They bind us and bend our will to their wants and needs, creating a country of mindless zombies who actually support the zombifying cause!

Now compare [insert favourite politician's name] to Pol Pot "Brother Number 1" or Kim Jong II "The Dear Leader" and all the nasty tyrannical baddies. History is meant for us to learn from, not repeated over and over again!

Look how Osama bin Laden had flourished in his reign! Although he may be the "bad guy" to most people, learn from him before judging him.

Leroy

Does it matter?

What you want to be.

Will it matter?

If you are all you can be.

Should it matter?

If you are not this, nor that.

If it matters?

Then I've been wrong all along.

How To Cut A Chicken?

Traversing the jungles,

Following the Sun.

Encountered a clearing,

A man found his son.

20 years has gone,

Many a story he had to tell.

Older, mature, with the look of a man,

He was still a boy.

Now that mama was gone,

He had to cook.

Papa is back,

He is the cook.

To put on a show,

A chook he killed.

Papa furrowed his brow,

Waiting for his hunger to be fulfilled.

A feast he prepared,

Salad, soups, and a hare.

The chook was the attraction,

Papa smiled with satisfaction.

Used to dining alone,

He knows not how to serve,

Nor cut or chop or shear,

For the chook we all fear.

Erratic Behaviour