Musings on the Big One

by Bruce Carroll

It would be hard to see, were it not for the sunlight reflecting from the clouds. It gives off no light of its own. But while it may be hard to see, no more than a dot in the darkness as you look at it, it is easy to hear, if you know how to listen. It groans and quavers in the 0.6–30 MHz range. [1]

If you were to go there, you would doubtless notice the banded clouds. While not particularly colorful – mostly ochre and various shades of brownish-orange – the cloud bands are quite distinctive. As you get even closer, you would doubtless notice the clouds are moving. The whole thing rotates every ten hours or so, and you would easily be able to tell by following the famous “red spot,” a storm which has been churning in the upper atmosphere for at least two hundred years (and probably much, much longer). If you watched closely, you would see that the alternating bands of clouds move in opposite directions as the whole thing rotates.

As you keep getting closer, you begin to realize it is big. Very, very big. In fact everything in the solar system, other than the sun itself, could easily fit inside it, if it were only hollow; every planet, every comet or asteroid, all of the dwarf planets, bits of rock and ice and dust, all would fit inside with room left over. No wonder it is named after the king of the gods!

It is also cold. The mean temperature there is around minus 232 degrees Fahrenheit. It has impressive auroras and massive lightning storms (which make its radio signal “spike”).

It has been known as Marduk, Dias, Zeus, Jove, and the name by which we know it today, Jupiter. Not that it cares; it goes on rotating as it revolves around the sun, its storms roiling, its auroras shimmering, its lightning flashing, belching forth radio signals no human ear can detect.

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October Update (My life as a monster)

Photo by Patty Murphy

by Bruce Carroll

Every year, for five or six weekends in September and October, monsters invade the theme park.

It is all part of Fright Fest, a spooky celebration at SixFlags Great America in Gurnee, Illinois. I have worked as one of the scaractors (scary actors) in the park for five seasons, now. I’ve played a zombie pawn shop owner, a demonic “Founding Father” figure, and a clown (or as we scareactors like to refer to it on social media, a klown). There are monsters in haunted houses and monsters on the midway (not to be confused with the Chicago Bears). I’m usually one of the “street actors,” delivering my scares on the midway.

Last season, there were two major changes to Fright Fest. First was a new guideline referred to as #NoMercy. The monsters come out at six p.m. Anyone in the park after that time is a fair target. We are allowed to scare anyone, of any age, virtually anywhere in the park. The second change was the addition of a new character, Nox, the Demon Overlord of Fright Fest.

Nox is big. Nox is scary. At just a tad over seven feet tall with a strong baritone voice, Nox easily inspires terror in the hearts of nearly every guest in the park. But he also inspires admiration.

Two weekends ago, a little girl came to the park. She met Nox and became a huge fan.

That night, she went home. She had an idea; a creative project she wanted to do. She asked for her parents’ help, and they gladly gave it.

The very next day, the little girl came back to Fright Fest dressed as Nox himself! Her parents had helped her modify a mask to look like the Demon Overlord. Nox saw her, and was pleased. (His response was, “I have no words.”) He dubbed this new junior demon Nyx.

I don’t know what other name you go by, Nyx, but I am glad to have you as a part of our monstrous family. Let the scaring begin!

Update on the Update

A different child created this:

Clearly, Nox has his fans.

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BOOK REVIEW: The Hidden Soul

Reviewer: Bruce Carroll

Author: Reagan Colbert

Retelling a familiar story has got to be one of the most difficult things an author can do. Many make the attempt, but few pull it off successfully. Nineteen-year-old award-winning author Reagan Colbert is one of those few.

In The Hidden Soul, Colbert retells the story of Christ’s Passion and Resurrection clearly and simply, yet compellingly. Everything is seen through the eyes of Marcus, a reluctant Roman soldier. Marcus is lost, out of place as both a soldier and as a person. He hates Rome, hates the violence he and his fellow soldiers are required to dish out. He also doesn’t believe in gods.

Then Marcus meets Simon, a former zealot who has given up his violent rebellion to follow a certain Jesus of Nazareth. Shortly after that meeting, Marcus’ life takes a turn and follows a path from which he can never return to the man he once was.

Marcus serves as an everyman, allowing the reader to experience the events of Christ’s Passion in a very personal, intimate way. He also serves as a reminder that God not only loves all of us, but each of us. As pastor Greg Bostrom has said, “God loves each of us as if there were only one of us to love.” Marcus is an excellent example and illustration of that steadfast love.

I have only two complaints about the book, and they are both minor. There are a few typos (or possibly spelling errors) that a copyeditor should have caught. They were neither so glaring nor so frequent as to detract from my joy of reading the book. My other complaint is that the book is apparently only available as a Kindle book. I hope both of these situations will be corrected in future editions.

You can purchase The Hidden Soul HERE.

Learn more about Reagan Colbert, her writing, and her ministry HERE.

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Why I Love Being an Indie Author

by Bruce Carroll

Being an author is fun. I love being able to create stories. There is a great satisfaction when I create a particularly good one.

Being an author allows me to share my creative endeavors with others. My heart leaps each time a reader tells me how much she enjoyed my writing. And being an indie author allows me to be published. Without the power of indie publishing, I’d reach a much smaller audience.

But what I love most about being an indie author is the support I get from other indie authors. There is a real sense of camaraderie among them. Most of them are eager and willing to offer encouragement and feedback. Some even become fans. Without that network of authors, I doubt I’d be a writer at all.

#PoweredByIndie

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Song for October

Lyrics by Bruce Carroll

Music yet to be written, but should be a gentle country tune with acoustic guitar

The sun shines down upon my face

And life moves at a slower pace

In the summer, in the summer

Though the sounds of summer laughter I hear

I long for a different time of year

In the summer, in the summer

The leaves turning colors so prettily

As I sit on the porch drinking pumpkin spice tea

Wearing a cozy sweater knit by mother

The smell of a campfire from the neighbor’s yard

Though life isn’t easy it doesn’t have to be hard

October is a time like no other

We remember fallen soldiers as children return to school

And the weather is no longer so hot, though not exactly cool

In September, in September

And though it’s been a fruitful year

My favorite time is drawing near

In September, in September

The leaves turning colors so prettily

As I sit on the porch drinking pumpkin spice tea

Wearing a cozy sweater knit by mother

The smell of a campfire from the neighbor’s yard

Though life isn’t easy it doesn’t have to be hard

October is a time like no other

After the harvest some like to rest

But after the harvest, what I like best is...

Zombies rising in the dead of night

The quiet broken by screams of fright

Thinking of Norman Bates and his mother

The blood of the neighbors on the picket fence

The glowing eyes of vampires looking so intense

October is a time like no other

October is a time like no other

Sometimes I think of you.... Sometimes I think of you....

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Striving to Keep My Wits

by Bruce Carroll

Let’s face it; none of us is getting any younger. Last year I turned fifty.

As we grow older, memory becomes a more and more tenuous thing. This is not news for anyone who is leaving middle age behind. More alarming than simple forgetfulness is dementia. Diseases such as Alzheimer’s claim the memories – and eventually the very souls – of their victims.

Being – shall I say, more mature? –  I began reading about neuroplasticity, a phenomenon that has been studied extensively only in the past decade or so. Scientists have discovered that the human brain is much more malleable than was previously thought. This malleability is called “neuroplasticity.”

Our brains change throughout our lives, and researchers have discovered it is possible to guide those changes. It is even possible to stave off age-related memory loss and dementia. One easy and effective way to do this is by learning something new as one grows older. A person could choose to learn anything: how to play a musical instrument, how to rebuild a car engine, how to cook, even how to write and speak a different language.

About the same time I was learning about brains and how to keep memory loss at bay, I read How to Learn Any Language in a Few Months While Enjoying Yourself by award-winning author Nate Nicholson. The techniques Mr. Nicholson offered seemed straightforward and effective. If I were going to learn anything, I decided, I would learn a language. After all, language is used to express every aspect of our lives. What could be more effective for brain development?

Once I had decided to learn a language, I had to choose which one to learn. There are many Spanish-speaking people in the U.S. Perhaps I should learn Spanish? But my exposure to Spanish had been rather limited. I had studied French formally throughout school. Maybe French was a better choice? (Funny how little of it I could remember after all these years.) I had also studied Japanese informally in college. Ah, Japan – there was a culture very different from my own!

I hadn’t yet decided on a language when I happened to be watching an interview with the Japanese Idol group Babymetal. (Yes, I am a fan – kitsune up!) The trio spoke only in Japanese. There were English subtitles, but I remembered enough Japanese that I questioned the translation I was reading. Was that really what they were saying?

After I watched the video, I read some of the comments people had left. There among them I found an extremely racist remark against the Japanese people. Somehow that brought me to choose Japanese as my second language.

Since then, I’ve begun learning (or relearning) French, too. Spanish is next on my short list.

What about you? What do you do to keep your brain healthy? Let me know in the comments.

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Math, Mother, and Memory

by Bruce Carroll

It's funny how an insufferable experience can become a fond memory, given time. Homemade candy helps, I suppose.

As a child, I struggled with math. Multiplication was a bear. Fractions were even worse.

When I was in sixth grade, I brought home a particularly daunting worksheet as my math homework. My parents insisted I begin doing homework almost as soon as I got home. I was granted enough time to consume a snack, then it was time to hit the books.

I endeavored, I toiled, I sweat. It was several pages and the answers were not coming easily. I was allowed another break for dinner. Dinner? I'd already been working two hours and still had a long, long way to go.

After dinner, I was back at my worksheet. I'd complete a page and have my parents check it, only to discover I had done the entire thing wrong and had to do it over.

As a sixth grader my bedtime was early; eight p.m., if I recall correctly. I wanted to go to bed. Badly. My head hurt. I was indescribably frustrated. I just wanted the night of mathematical torture to end.

Finally, at just past ten p.m. I managed somehow to get the last problem on the last page solved correctly. Exhausted, I said good night to my mother.

But she had a surprise for me. She was proud of my hard work, she said, and she went on to tell me that earlier in the day, while I was at school, she had made some Heavenly Hash. Now Heavenly Hash is my absolute favorite candy. I was surprised and delighted when she said I could stay up just a bit longer and eat a couple of pieces.

Sadly, my mother passed away a few years later, succumbing to cancer. I've grown older, and today I can no longer recall what kind of math problems I struggled through that night. But I remember the lesson my mother taught me about persistence and hard work.

What fond memories do you have? Let me know in the comments below.

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