Post by Bhu ♥ Irwin on Feb 1, 2011 18:28:43 GMT -5
I remember mentioning a while back that I was going to turn BT into a book. Well, I had started to, but I only got the title page complete (cover still needed). So, today I had the inspiration to start it! I got the introduction done 
Tell me what you think of the into, since this is as much yours as it is mine!
Introduction
Hello. My name is Dio. I’m neither a cat, nor a dog. You will find this surprising because all those who fear me are canine, and those that worship me are feline. I must be some a huge creature with razor sharp teeth and blood shot eyes, right? No—I’m a baboon; a plain, simple, nothing exciting about it baboon. Well, except for one fact I did forget to mention at the beginning; I’m a god.
This story isn’t about me, though. In fact, I merely lay down the foundation of this hectic life; it’s the worldly characters that play it out. They endure the pain and joy, tears and laughter, hot and cold. I only watch, with the occasional word given. They call me a hero, but I’m only the chooser of heroes. I’m no hero; I’m just a compassionate observer—just that guy on the sidelines throwing the occasional ‘rebound’, ‘steal it’, ‘pass it to Jimmy’ comment at a basketball game. It is those on earth that have to hear my call and decide how to execute the advice given.
I forgot to mention: I have an equal. You see, the felines know I’m here because I died for them. I’m like the Allah for Muslim Murder Apes, or the God for those of Christian faith. But canines can’t see me, don’t hear me. Like Murder Apes have different religions with different gods for each, so do the animals. My white Folami canine friend that works by my side is Skoll. I chose him to help bare my burden—I have yet to ever regret that decision.
Anyway, this isn’t your typical story. There are no ‘evil verses good’ situations. This is life, and it isn’t so basic as to follow a set of guidelines. There’s tragedy and celebration, life and death, sinful and righteous, lost and found—and lost being found. This here is a telling of an existence that shouldn’t have been. I didn’t need to die to save the felines, or I shouldn’t have had to. Skoll, if there was any justice in the world, should not have had to rise above hate and disbelief to come and be a god to his kind. In fact, Skoll and his kind shouldn’t even exist.
This is a tale of when people play God.
Tell me what you think of the into, since this is as much yours as it is mine!Introduction
Hello. My name is Dio. I’m neither a cat, nor a dog. You will find this surprising because all those who fear me are canine, and those that worship me are feline. I must be some a huge creature with razor sharp teeth and blood shot eyes, right? No—I’m a baboon; a plain, simple, nothing exciting about it baboon. Well, except for one fact I did forget to mention at the beginning; I’m a god.
This story isn’t about me, though. In fact, I merely lay down the foundation of this hectic life; it’s the worldly characters that play it out. They endure the pain and joy, tears and laughter, hot and cold. I only watch, with the occasional word given. They call me a hero, but I’m only the chooser of heroes. I’m no hero; I’m just a compassionate observer—just that guy on the sidelines throwing the occasional ‘rebound’, ‘steal it’, ‘pass it to Jimmy’ comment at a basketball game. It is those on earth that have to hear my call and decide how to execute the advice given.
I forgot to mention: I have an equal. You see, the felines know I’m here because I died for them. I’m like the Allah for Muslim Murder Apes, or the God for those of Christian faith. But canines can’t see me, don’t hear me. Like Murder Apes have different religions with different gods for each, so do the animals. My white Folami canine friend that works by my side is Skoll. I chose him to help bare my burden—I have yet to ever regret that decision.
Anyway, this isn’t your typical story. There are no ‘evil verses good’ situations. This is life, and it isn’t so basic as to follow a set of guidelines. There’s tragedy and celebration, life and death, sinful and righteous, lost and found—and lost being found. This here is a telling of an existence that shouldn’t have been. I didn’t need to die to save the felines, or I shouldn’t have had to. Skoll, if there was any justice in the world, should not have had to rise above hate and disbelief to come and be a god to his kind. In fact, Skoll and his kind shouldn’t even exist.
This is a tale of when people play God.
