Ridiculous

 
A nebulous term at best. It can mean what you want it to mean.
good, bad, indifferent.
silly, misunderstood, inane.
chaotic, entropic.
Pretty much all about me. LOL maybe I should change my name.
I work, I sleep, I play. Seemingly NOT ridiculous, and yet it is. My choices are my own, and yet sometimes it seems that choices are made for me.
That is ridiculous. Meaning: good AND bad, silly AND yes, random. 
What is ridiculous about it? The universe works in mysterious ways. Chaotic, silly. Perhaps my life is part of a grand plan. Perhaps it is all just a roll of giant troll dice... That is a question of life that most people, I think, have to deal with.
Nothing is set in stone, you can make your own fate or at least nudge it in a different direction. I have to believe that, else all is for naught. If my path is predetermined and it can't be changed, that sucks. I like ridiculous. And random.


speaking of paths, and random acts of random ridiculousness...
next Interregnum:


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                The tall man with the fair skin and the black hair is standing on the balcony, looking out over the vast expanse of concrete. He is looking for something, scanning the horizon. He brings the distance viewer to his eye and continues to search.

                “Ah, there you are, beautiful lady.”

                There is a breeze developing, the trees that line the edges of the Spaceport bending their trunks as though in welcome. The breeze builds into a storm of wind. The man is focusing the viewer on a portion of the sky where a small speck is just barely visible to the naked eye. As the wind increases, so does the sound, low at first, but growing louder with each passing moment.

                The man watches intently as the huge, black-as-Space Starship comes ever closer, the air swirling around him, the noise almost overwhelming. The Spaceport Crew gathers at the edge of the landing pad, waiting. The door to the balcony slides open, and another man emerges, a blond man in a flawless Federation uniform with a gold Admiral’s Rank on the collar.

                “She is a sight, isn’t she?” The newcomer is awed as well, but he cannot allow his feelings to show.

                “Indeed she is, Admiral.”

                “Are you ready for your Ceremony, Commander Bianchi? They are waiting for you in the Amphitheater.”

                The black-haired man is solemn, lowering his head for a moment. Then, his unusual, deep grey eyes sparkling, he looks up at the Admiral and smiles. “Yes, Sir. Shall we go?”

                The Amphitheater is filled, humming with the voices of the excited crowd.

                The President holds up his hand for silence.

                “And now, Captain Paolo Bianchi, your Command awaits. The Aquarius is at the Spaceport. Your Crew is aboard. All she needs is you.”

                Anything further he might have wanted to say is drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. The newly promoted Captain is quite popular with the Fleet.

                Suddenly there is a commotion. A young man, wearing a Fleet Academy uniform, thrusts his way through the Security checkpoint. He is screaming something incomprehensible.

                The Security Force, two Military Police Officers, pull their weapons, looking to the Admiral for orders.

                “Hold that Cadet. Minimum force.”

                “Aye, Sir!”

                The young man is strong, he struggles with the MPs. They are trying to get hold of him, to subdue him without harming him. Captain Bianchi looks on, frustrated for a moment. He recognizes the Cadet, younger brother to a former rival at the Academy. But the young man smiles. His face shines with self-assurance. He allows the MPs to subdue him and restrain him.

                “You should not be here! You should not! You will not!” The words, ominous and threatening, hang in the air as he is led away.

                The blast follows those words by only a few moments. The audience and the Officers are still reeling from the shock of the interruption. They are taken completely unawares and unprepared for another incident. The stage erupts into a ball of flame, the natural wood floor boards becoming missiles, the display monitors and equipment disappearing in the inferno. The pressure wave whips through the Amphitheater, toppling furniture and people alike. Screams and exclamations of pain are heard over the sound of the crashing and pounding of the aftermath.

                No-one in the arena is watching as the Admiral and the Captain make their slow, painful way around the debris of what is left of the stage. The Captain is holding the Admiral’s arm as they crawl over the planks and other rubble. But there is blood pouring from his wounds, and he is growing weaker. As he falls to the ground, his hand moves, to grasp a shard of metal that has embedded itself in his chest.