Aaron B.'s Blog

His hoofs clicked on the rocky stairs, he held his knife up and ready.
He hoped the stairs would end soon, but as he continued walking-he began to figure this is all he’d be doing for quite a while.
Springing from one corner, a guard who held two knives in each hand, he yelled.
He sliced Darak’s armpit, then cut Darak’s cheek.
“Get back down, creature!” Yelled the man in a frenzy.
The space between the staircase and walls on either side wasn’t that huge, which made fighting nearly impossible.
Darak grabbed a hold of the guard’s head with one free and jammed the blade of his knife into the human’s eye socket. He yelled as Darak tossed him down the steps. Hitting his head with crunching sounds.
Clutching his wound, Darak turned to see a wooden door and busted it down. Hoping to find a bandage or something to stop the bleeding from under his arm.
In this new room, he found a bedroom with a neatly made bed.
Ripping the light blanket up into strips, Darak wrapped his wound tightly, moaning in pain.

“Come out slowly! I have a gun!” Yelled Julie as she fearlessly approached the fallen ship. To her, it looked broken beyond repair.
Her ears were ringing a bit from the massive blast of the chaotic landing.
From the top of the jet, a green Barg revealed itself. Julie had only seen the giant robots-never the aliens responsible for their operation. The lizard-like body was instantly recognizable. It’s very human-like as far as arms and legs go.
It wore a tight black jumpsuit. Its smooth, reptilian head was clear as day, it looked like a seven ft. tall gecko or Komodo dragon. Its yellow eyes glowed as it cocked its head from left to right.
It hopped from the cockpit of the craft and landed on its two feet.
Julie ran towards the creature, like a football player, she tackled it to the ground and began rapidly punching its face.
“Where is my son?!” She yelled into its face, gripping its throat with her hands which felt rough upon his flesh. Hands that had dug through the ground and hands that were now used to kill.
“Who?!” The alien croaked between gasps.
“You! I-I can understand you! Why?” Her grip tightened. She was kneeling upon the athletic-looking creature. If she wanted to, she could easily overpower him and kill him right now.
“Let go!” The lizard spat, revealing a pink mouth with rows of sharp teeth.
'A creature. An alien. Most would want to study it, ask it the meaning of life. Ask it where it came from. What came first, the chicken or the egg? I was convinced it knew where my son had ended up.'
She finally released the Barg, stood on her feet, and stepped back; her gun aimed directly at the space creature.
He rubbed his throat gently with one green, clawed hand.
She frowned; a tear escaped her eye. “I’ll ask you one last time, you son of a bitch. WHY do I understand you? Who are you?” Her hands shook, a trickle of sweat dripped down the side of her head.
“Stop yelling at me. I actually want you to understand me. I’ve studied earth. I’ve studied your language. What the hell are you going on about? Your son? Who I didn’t take by the way.” The lizard spoke in an irritated tone.
The humanoid creature stood; arms raised above his head. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his crashed ship sticking out of the ground.
“You must know where David is, Barg scum.” She cocked the gun, the barrel nearly touching its reptilian snout.
“Gunner.” He snapped, then took a deep breath. “My name is Gunner. How did you know I was a Barg?”
“Shut up. You-you things have names?” Julie lowered her weapon slowly, keeping it at her side, gripping it so hard, veins started popping from her wrist.
She looked into the yellow eye of a cold-blooded creature.
Its eye. Like a snake. Yellow iris with a black sliver for a pupil. Mysterious, but deadly no doubt. Well, look into my eye, you alien bastard. I bet you see rage. Rage from a mother who wants her baby.
“I gotta name. Not all of us do. My father did. Or still does. He’s down here I bet. It’s because of him I know earth culture” He lowered his toned arms.
“So, you like earth huh? Why the hell would you take it over? Hm? Ruin billions of lives? Destroy our cities? Kidnap children?” Julie walked around the creature, unblinking, her heart pounded. Seeing its muscles and its spandex-looking, black jumpsuit. She took notice of the texture, the elbow, and the knee pads. Around Gunner’s waist, was a silver, leather utility belt. His grey boots flashed tiny lights.
“If it were up to me, we would’ve stayed out. My father, Taurus is the leader of the Barg. He’s the one you should hate.” Gunner looked to his boots.
After a deep breath, she holstered her weapon and nodded to the creature.

I know to a lot of people District 9 is just a movie. And I respect that. I totally get how it maybe didn't connect with audiences like it did with me on a personal level.
I was 15 when the movie came out. I saw it with my dad. Afternoon showing. I hadn't been exposed to many 'creatures being nice' movies. It was a concept I thought about, but I had only seen horror monsters tearing people up. I had only seen aliens abducting people and doing bad stuff. And I walked into the cinema, thinking it was going to be a horror sci-fi movie. With evil aliens.
Of course, after 20 or so minutes, I realized wow. No. This is completely different. And the style of it was so unique. It felt real. I had never seen a movie that made humans the bad guys essentially.
As the movie went on-I kinda forgot I was in a theater. Once Sharlto Copley began to turn into an alien (or prawns as the racist term) I really was so invested. Yes, I was invested in the human element. How a prejudice guy could turn to tolerate 'the other'. That element was just so dramatic and so perfectly done. It reminded me of how I felt about learning the history of slavery. Of course, I was never 'for it'-but I remember how saddened I was learning about how America was essentially founded on blood and torture. I couldn't fathom hurting another living being and forcing them to work. So, that made me quite invested in the film. So, the movie re-enforced my deep feelings of being anti-racist and wanting to fight for equality.
I was maybe more fascinated with Christopher and his son. The bond they held. How a father and son were stuck in a terrible environment. How these bug-like creatures had families and friends. How all they wanted was to be accepted. How we basically just looked at them and threw them away.
The scene when Chris discovers that MNU (the corporation responsible for putting the aliens into slums) has been experimenting on his own kind-almost brought me to tears in the theater. I couldn't imagine seeing that kind of thing.
I loved the idea of a human and alien working toward a common goal. Moving past their differences and wanting to make the world a better place. A lesson I think we all can take from in today's political climate. To fight against the millionaires who hoard crap for themselves and fight for higher minimum wages. To not look at humans as 'upper class' or 'middle class' but to all rise up and fight the true evil ones. The pharmaceutical companies who charge too much for meds. To fight against our unfair healthcare system. Instead, we fight ourselves while those at the top shrug and laugh.
Those concepts of 'working together to fight a bigger evil' really happened for me because of District 9. The movie inspired me to be vocal about treating others unfairly. To vote. To donate. To listen to those who feel marginalized. I have District 9 to thank for bringing all those important life lessons up.
My dream is to one day meet the director and just tell him how much his movie touched me. And as for the sequel? I am so, so ready. I know I'll be an emotional wreck when I see the trailer.

When quarantine started I knew I was going to be bored. I had written my first book FORLORN. I wanted something fantasy-esque. I thought of Game of Thrones but I thought the books looked too long. Mr. Martin is a talented writer, but not the kind I want to read just yet.

I remembered the original movie Conan the Barbarian. And how many times I has re-watched the original over and over. I also knew they were based on books. Now their was something I could sink my teeth into. Short stories / novellas. Accessible. Don’t have to follow 9 different characters.
I admit, the first time I picked one up I was surprised. This wasn’t easy reading. This was pure emotion. So much passion put into each action. The violence reminded me of that Starz TV show Spartacus. And the character of Conan was way more dimensional than I initially thought.

I was hooked. And still am hooked. I’ve now read maybe 8 or 9 of the stories and plan on reading all of them. I truly love the poetic style, the plots which feature monsters and a big muscular man coming to the rescue. As a writer, I really could FEEL Mr. Howard’s passion with each page. I can picture him smiling behind his typewriter and just pouring his soul into this world and enjoying it. That joy truly seeped into me.

The character inspired me so much in fact that I’ve brought one of my own characters into the spotlight. Darak the Minotaur. He’s someone I’ve had in my head for quite a while but didn’t know how to write him. Thanks to REH now I know what sort of stories I want to tell with him. If I can hold a candle to Conan, then I’ll be shocked honestly.

There are two factors I should mention. Sexism and racism. One of which I see and the other not so much.
Howard seems to write about females being strong a lot. Granted they’re the ‘damsel’ types but I feel that they’re also witches and warriors who fight along side or against Conan. I think it was the film adaptations that sorta painted Conan in a certain way. In the books, he doesn’t say his famous ‘crush your enemies’ speech.

Racism. Yes. And that’s my gripe. The story Red Nails is especially racist-which is a shame because they’re lots of good story beats there. I don’t excuse racism. I feel icky when I read anything like that. I hate that Howard thought that way. Yes he grew up in the South at a time when a lot of people didn’t have rights. Even some of Howard’s colleagues were put off by these ideas. But he still inspires me as a storyteller. I love the character of Conan himself. He’s addicting.

I wish that a company would release Howard’s stories and put a notice speaking of Howard and how his beliefs are inaccurate. No harm with putting labels on things. Or even taking it out all together. The stories themselves wouldn’t be affected.

I think everyone should be able to enjoy Conan. Teens and young adults especially. I think in high school teens would love Conan and really find the tales fascinating. I know I would have back in class. I urge anyone who writes or hell, anyone who just wants good entertainment to pick up Conan.

"Darak just enjoyed watching nature. The various bugs that buzzed around. He couldn’t describe exactly why he loved watching nature and wondering why there was a big gold ball in the sky which shed light onto the earth. He didn’t have any concepts of Gods, whether something created this majesty or if it all was scientific. He just enjoyed life for what it was. Directly in front of him. Not thinking of deep meanings as he watched the sunset. It simply calmed him in a way he couldn’t put into words."
-Darak the Minotaur, Second Chances

(https://www.wattpad.com/1056334884-da...)

Inspired by Conan the Barbarian, these stories tell the tale of Darak, a half man, half bull creature who gets everything taken from him.

https://www.wattpad.com/list/10463405...