Keep the Shine...

Perhaps not everyone knows this...but a Dragon Shines. It's the scales, you see. Bio-armor. Bony plates. Or--my personal favorite--horny overlaps. Where is your mind? Umph. Humans. I speak zoologically, of course! Horny, as in a "sheath of protein encasing bone". A lovely hide, coat, cover of protein, hard as diamonds, smooth as ice, warm or cold depending on surrounding temperatures. Therein lies the Shine.

Ha! What that proteinaceous carapace does to light--! Why, it takes my Dragon breath away. Our sturdy but flexible exterior breaks light down. Splits the rays, if you will, parts the beams, reflects and skitters the particles over the surface, scatters them like sun on dancing water. S'not that we glow like a bulb, flicker like a torch, flare like a comet searing the night sky. Since it's derived, generated, spawned by an external source over which we have no control (although, indeed, some Dragons think the sun and moon rise and set on them! Not moi, of course) the intensity varies, colors fluctuate. To look upon a Dragon, be it in strong or wan light, is to look upon a rainbow in motion. A multihued activity. A continuum of luminosity! No, Dragons aren't multi-colored, but when light scampers about your form/shape/anatomy, a single color takes on many tints/tones/hues. A glorious profusion. Why, we're as lovely as oil afloat on a puddle!

Dragon Shine, to put it succinctly, is without equal.

S'not to say that humans don't Shine. Take heart, my human friends (and it is all about that chaotic organ, you know), you do, indeed, have Shine. However, you tend to be less overt, explicit, blatant than Dragonkind. Even though we Dragons carry fire inside, it is humans who can claim mastery of the internal glow. 'Tis an entirely different kind of heat, you see. Ours derives from internal combustion, gaseous ignition, an incendiary explosion out of gullet and throat and jaws...your heat, however...well, it is less spectacular in display. But display it does. I have personally been exposed to this demonstration of inner human heat, fire...heart.

The human male (sometimes it is a female; let us not slight by gender), devoid of any hint of armor such as I bear, has been known to dash, hasten, scurry into the very jaws of ruinous flame (not, I must emphasize, a Dragon's flame) to save a friend, a child. A stranger. A noble action, dear humans. Gracious. Decent. Humans have been known to fling themselves into icy/freezing/brrrrrr water to the same purpose. And don't forget the warriors who thrust themselves between the sword/bullet/explosive and their fellow warriors to keep their companions alive. A Dragon can only shake his great head and marvel. After all, what other creature do you know who would do the same? Oh. Well, yes, on occasion dogs are known to do these things, but they, too, are generous creatures. And, yes, Dragons do these things, as well, but since there is no true danger (fire can't harm us and haven't I already discoursed on how well a well fed Dragon floats?) in all modesty I cannot label such actions as nobility on our part. But to put yourself in danger, to flaunt death or injury, for your fellow man--ah. That my human friends is Shine.

It manifests in other, less obvious/observable/apparent ways. Sacrifice can be and is expressed in many forms. A father working three jobs to feed his family. S'not like he can run out and snatch a bovine (cow) for dinner. Humans have such restrictive rules/laws/requirements even for so simple an act as garnering food. A mother going hungry so there is enough on the table for her children. But then a mother's love is sacrosanct. Or it should be. A human who offers to share their home with a friend who has lost all; or, more telling, the one who opens their home to a stranger who has lost all. I'll admit, this one would give a Dragon pause...we are territorial beasts, after all.

Even such small an action as giving books to poor schools, clothes to the needy, meals to the elderly, aid to the depressed, a hand to the fallen--in a Dragon's eyes, these, too, are noble acts.

Humans alone (all right, not all humans, but most, one likes to think/hope/believe) have this capacity to stretch their soul. Essence. Spirit. Makes for pretty tight skin in some cases, but never so tight that they would shed their skin as does a snake. Human skin simply stretches to accommodate/provide/make room for that inner bloat of character. That Shine.

Oh, the veritable beauty of it! A living flame/spark/ember within as hot as any Dragon's heated effusion.

Do you know what I love about humans? They Shine the most when times are tough/difficult/ hard. Such as now. Indeed--lift your head, gaze/look/stare about. The glare is almost too much even for a Dragon's eyes. Everywhere--glimmer and glint, glitter and gleam and glisten. Flash and flicker! Sparkle and spark. Shine. Is it a herd/band/pod of Dragons on wing? Not at all. It is the humans all about you.

Adversity? Misfortune? Hard times? Ho--Dragons and humans alike, we spit upon all harsh aspects of foul fate. Heads high, we fly (or walk, whichever one's anatomy allows) through the clouds and on. We survive.

After all, do we not Shine?

Oh Joy! The documentation/record/script extraordinaire is Published. Very well, call it a Book.

There are so few things for a Dragon to accomplish these days. S'not as if one can traipse about in daylight and tackle affairs as they did in the olden days when humans believed in Dragons and didn't get so upset seeing one on their doorstep. Or on their roof. Or sipping from their well. Everything must be done covertly/secretively/under cover of darkness nowadays, else every gun toting, pitchfork wielding, crowbar swinging brawny human is shooting, prodding, smashing your body parts. They've no respect for size or fangs at all! Note I mention only the brawny ones; the thinkers are less physically negative toward those of us who are different from them in bulk/shape/form. So I try to do less physical interaction, myself, and limit my efforts/endeavors/activities to more brain centered tasks. Such as writing. But one never knows if their efforts will be rewarded, acknowledged, credited. Even viewed. Oh, the pain of obscurity. The depression of being unappreciated. The dismay of wasting words on the emptiness of an unread page!

But--thank the beings of ethereal spaces. Writers Exchange E-Publishing has come to my rescue, feathered my wings and my pen (well, the pen my scribe wields). The tales of my deeds in the world of Isoladia have at last found their way onto the worldwide screen of the Internet. And the small mobile devices, electronic gadgets, all those fascinating doodads that seem stuck to human fingers these days. Bliss. Ecstasy. Happiness...now...if I can only get those entrenched in electronics to actually download, obtain, gather the words onto a suitable screen and READ!

I'll not give up hope. The words will continue to tumble out, flee the forked tongue, trip tunefully from my brilliant Dragon brain. The Writing Dragon, having writ, writes more...

The Fat Assed Dragon - or why I'll never get a butt tuck

Tonight we will discourse on weight. Mass. A load on the rear. Very well, fat asses, if you will. I come before you as an advocate of staunch sterns, beefy buttocks. Rousing rumps.

Were one to approach this subject in an erudite manner, they would point out that statistics indicate today's average/normal/typical Dragon is a good ton--2,000 pounds, to be exact...more or less--heavier than his predecessor. Of course, when you live as long as we do--ho, a few centuries are mere child's play!--you wing your way through so many socio-economic-cultural changes that an alteration in size/mass/bulk is to be expected. I mean, does it not make sense that when civilization improves and food sources increase both in size and quantity, that one's appetite grows in direct proportion? Appetite is natural, wholesome, hearty. Absolutely, positively there is Nothing wrong with a good appetite. Not that there aren't lean times. I've seen my share of skin and bones living, Dragons grown so emaciated they are little more than a shiny skein of scales draping a skeleton! Pathetic. Sad. Wretched to behold. It happens when resources are depleted. In simplistic, basic, unsophisticated terms, skinny deer equate to skinny Dragons. Few deer equate to very skinny Dragons. No deer--its too horrific to express in a public communication. The same can be said were I to speak of cattle, pigs, sheep, goats, birds, and even fish, small though they are.

The point to which I come is this: fat is strength. Gaunt is difficult to look upon! Ergo, a fat-assed Dragon is good. A healthy rear, tush, derriere gives one's tail power, suppleness, vitality. A gathering of adipose globs upon the haunches provides an excellent cushion upon which to settle when one lands, to comfortably ensconce one's rear when sitting on sharp cave rocks. And swimming! Fat floats, my dears. Water loves cushy fat. Ever hear of a Dragon drowning? Impossible. Unfeasible. Brawny buttocks bunch and bounce across the waves, skim like silk through surf, drift like flotsam over wild white water. Substance, solidity, immensity--the joy of heft is without equal. Why, then, one must inquire, would any Dragon select, choose, prefer to be narrow of girth, scrawny of leg, bony of butt?

There you have it. The anathema to this theme is the dreaded, dreary, dismal diet. The abominable cut down. Fast. Starve! The state of mind that denies the necessity of food. Fare. Groceries. Chow. As if by not eating, one believes they don't want to eat. Detox. Purge. Cleanse. Flush. Eliminate. Scour the innards of every minuscule spec of cellular stoutness.

Resist, my fellow Dragons. If you would have the strength, the essence, the vigor to fly amid the stars and flirt with frigid peaks, eat. Gorge. Stuff every gullet, bowel, nook and cranny with the glorious profusion of edibles laid before you. Salute, I say, the tremendous tush!

Sigh. I'm hungry. Anyone have a plump bovine on them? Or a doughnut?

A Dragons' New Year Resolutions

Oh, yes, Dragons do make resolutions. Oaths. Promises, declarations, decrees of change, intent, aims, goals. Objectives. I've made over a thousand of them, myself, one for every year in which I have trod upon or flown over this good earth. Well, I probably missed a few, one or two, when I was a dragonette--I wasn't as focused in my early days. But eventually I did start making resolutions and, indeed, I have even kept a few of them. After the Great London Fire in 1666, I promised that I would never--ever--ad infinitude--sneak chocolate cake from a bakery again. Or, at least that I wouldn't melt a door to get into the establishment. A bit of an error that night, I'll admit. But I made a promise and I haven't done that again. Occasionally I slip up, err, fail to achieve a goal--after all, I am only a Dragon. Now, I wasn't around for the destruction of Pompeii in A.D. 79, but knowing of that misadventure by a relative, I vowed to avoid sleeping in volcano caldera's or in deeper chambers where an unexpected sneeze could cause a bit of a disruption. A basic blowout. Well, alright--one big eruption. Vesuvius was, in truth, an accident. I swear I was Not sleeping in the underlying chambers of Krakatau when that one blew! Wasn't sleeping at all...just tasting a little of the lava and my tail hit something it shouldn't. Things shifted. Whoa--I've never achieved such a high flight so fast in all my thousand years! I do not, however, claim fault for the temperature changes that followed that one...

It is not easy being large/huge/an intimidating bulk, or having to control a length of tail and rather awkward wings at the same time. Humans have no idea. I'm much better at it than in my youth, but others of my breed will never achieve the finesse/refinement/expertise of body control that I have. Many of the world's disasters have been cause by them, not yours truly.

In any case, back to resolutions. This year my goal is to achieve a bit of notoriety for myself. I've remained hidden/low on the horizon/out of the line of sight for most of my life--but this book thing, being the hero of several novels; well, s'not as if I can keep my mighty self unknown now. Once humans read of my exploits/achievements/capabilities, once the awe has settled, curiosity will follow. Humble though I am, I cannot in good conscience keep my jaws clamped. I have much to say and share, and therefore have vowed that my efforts will be toward expanding my influence, words, thoughts, wisdom into the world via this marvelous little dragonette called the Internet. What, you didn't know this whole business is born of Dragon magic? Haven't you noted the wings and tail and claws inherent to this swift flying screen that flashes faster than an exhalation before your eyes? Ha. It is a Dragon invention, born of Dragon fire and bone and heart...ergo it is, in truth, a dragonette. Can't imagine how big or strong it will be when fully grown. Oh, but I feel the pride of a father even though I'm not certain if it sprang from one of my escapades or not. No matter. It takes a village to raise a proper Dragon, and I shall have my part in it.

So...to help me fulfill my goal, you must read the written word upon these pages. Scroll down for what has been said, and tune in for what will be said. I will be so bereft if my efforts come to naught. I will shortly begin posting more of the books in which I play so pivotal a part. The story, after all, must go on.