By now, most have heard about the video of U.S. marine throwing puppy off a cliff in Iraq. This sort of behaviour isn't new to war. There was a Vietnam veteran in Cahill 3 with me. He told me a story that seems now eerily similar to this.

The guys in his unit called the orangutans "rock apes", because they would catch rocks you threw at them and then throw the rocks back. They had fun playing catch with the orangutans until one day one of the guys in the unit decided to pull a pin out of a grenade and throw it at an orangutan . Of course the orangutan caught the grenade and was blown to pieces. That ended the fun they had with the orangutans. The difference is that they didn't have camera phones then.

Should we be surprised by this sort of behaviour? These soldiers have been sent to kill people. Most humans view other animals as less than human. If they're killing people left and right, what's the odd puppy or orangutan ? Who is more evil then: the marine that killed the puppy or the politicians sent him over there to kill?

The more I think about it, the more I know Rob killed himself. Over the past couple years, I've found myself repeatedly looking at his last entry, trying to make sense of it. Or perhaps, trying to avoid making sense of it. He rode his bike off that cliff intentionally. He felt dead when he was alive. He wanted to be alive, and thought death was the only way to accomplish that. I hope he found what he was looking for.

I miss him.

I was quite productive yesterday, well more productive than average for me at least. In addition to my daily chores (animal care and cooking), I reglued the twine on my staff, I did a much needed load of laundry, and did an good hour of cleaning the downstairs of the house_of_clocks with recoiling.

Yeah, it's kind of pathetic what I consider a good and productive day. But, I want to surf this wave and see if it builds. After Skye's vet appointment at 3pm, I want to do some more cleaning at the house_of_clocks and do some crafting. Perhaps I'm on the verge of at least getting my surroundings and activities in order. I've been on this precipice for a long time, so I'm not going to get to carried away with optimism.

Rob (mutehalo) was a good person. He was kind to everyone, didn't have a mean bone in his body. I've missed him since he went missing in August and they found him at the bottom of a cliff yesterday. Apparently he was riding his bike in the woods and went off the side of it. It was an accident. In that I was glad. I was worried something more sinister happened to him. At least it was quick. Goodbye Rob. You are missed. You are loved. Always.

I only slept for 3 hours. But in those three hours I lived for a long time. I came upon a house inhabited by four children. The house was carved into the side of a cliff by the sea. The children were obviously troubled. I went into the house and spent time with them. They were insane. I tried to take care of them, but I didn't know where I had come from or exactly where I was. They worked in a pool of running water at the bottom floor of the four floor house, making items to sell to support themselves. I found out there parents had died in the house. As I stayed there trying to figure something out, things got more and more odd. I felt sanity slipping from me. I knew it had something to do with the house. I tried calling 911 to get help, but they wouldn't believe me that something was dreadfully wrong. After several weeks, an alien probe from a galaxy in the constellation of Orion failed to provide meaningful assistance as well. It messaged home for help, but came back with the answer the none would come. Many months later, looking at the rocks, I came to find they were made out of a strange material. A material that leached into the water that flowed through them. This material was the source of the children's and now my insanity. We all left the house in a raft, but we had no where to go. We ran into some friendly pirates who offered us desperately needed money for the top two levels of the house. I agreed to the deal. Having money meant the children didn't have to work in the water. They gained there sanity back. However, I knew that the money wouldn't last long, and the children would end up having to go back into the water. The children were itching to spend the money on everything. And I was busy clearing away the diseased rock. Being in contact with the rock kept me insane. In fact, I was going more and more insane. The world was beginning to melt away. I knew I would end up dead like their parents. I, however, had to clear the rock, while at the same time keeping the children from recklessly spending the money that they got from selling the top two floors of their house. I got electrocuted on some wires in the rock, but survived. I cleared and cleared, but there was so much rock. I knew I had to get rid of it all. But as the months past I lost more and more of my grip on any semblance of a stable reality. The world melted away as spaceships fought overhead. Everything began to change, and I floated out into the ocean. I ended up walking on letters. E for excellent. F for fail. Grades. I was in some strange school. The letters were huge and psychedelic. Purely a fantasy. Everything drifted away and I woke up. I only hope I got enough of the rock cleared and the children will be okay.