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Twenty-First Century Mankind
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TITLE (EDIT)
Twenty-First Century Mankind
DESCRIPTION
I chose to write a modern day myth which tackled subjects that I thought should be looked at more clearly. This was for my LB170 class at CSU and gained much attenetion. It is my first work of real creative writing, even though when I was writing it, it felt like something was writing through me. Notice the irony of Conqueror's name and how the story relates to our time. Just what are we accomplishing? Please email what you liked/disliked about the myth because I like to hear what people think.
[1,273 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Mystical
AUTHOR
Eric A Hofmann
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Student at Colorado State University majoring in Technical Journalism. Dream job would be to work for Car and Driver, Motor Trend, etc. I like reading and writing about the mystical, but often personal issues of our lives. I hope to write a book when I go back to Europe next year and to someday teach in higher education.
[January 2003]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
Hofamange@hotmail.com
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (4)
A Verse Of Doubt (Poetry) - [41 words] [Mind]
Misguided Man (Poetry) I wrote this poem in my Study of Lit. class. It is about my bad relationship with my father. notice the metephor of the hand throughout the piece, and a I hope you can gain a better understanding of ... [67 words] [Relationships]
Our Ignorance, Our Sight (Poetry) I just sat down and wanted to seek out the big picture of why we believe and act the ways we do. I know that it really has no structure, but I was searching for words more rapidly than my mind could ... [106 words] [Psychology]
Thoughts At An End (Poetry) Met a girl. It didn't work out like I thought it would. She was my first love. It is a pretty personal poem and I am surprised to be writing this for some to read. Do not look at the pushing as ph... [179 words] [Relationships]
Twenty-First Century Mankind
Eric A Hofmann

The Great City was bathed in concrete and isolation, with its inhabitants seemingly oblivious to one another. There were buildings as trees and sidewalks for supple grass. It was thought that the great city was born from a being called Oneman, who had muscles that could build such trees and a mind that knew no boundaries. Each day he gained a new piece of intelligence and used it to invent assets that would make his life easier. But he yearned so much to know all that he became crazy with the lust to become the conqueror of all things living and non-living. He even set out to conquer natural law. Each day his city grew bigger and stronger with the new inhabitants who looked upon their master with awe. They said to themselves, “Oneman is great; we will listen to him and not question his authority. We will go about our daily lives, walk his sidewalks, and strive to be like him.” And so, they went about life seeing time as Oneman had. It was of the utmost importance to all; schedules dominated free time like a tyrannical ruler. Oneman decided that everything was great and took pride in his work.
It went like this for a long time, but times were changing, and Oneman felt it burn within him. Age came upon him and took its toll. He did not show his weakness of doubt and concern, for his ego kept his conscious at bay. His power must take a new form, but he loved himself so much that kin would not do. Therefore, he thought, “I am great and seemingly omniscient, why don’t I create myself again?” And so he took it upon himself to learn how to clone. Learning from everything natural Oneman tried his best to use the resources at hand. His first creation, the first abomination, could not speak, walk or even reason. Oneman vomited at the sight of this “thing” and decided to kill it out of anger with himself. As his muscular hands constricted the creature’s pulsing neck, it stared into Oneman’s eyes with the look of years of wisdom. When it met his soul, it half pitied it and half despised it. The being died in silence and it’s crimson blood spilled upon Oneman’s hands. For seven days he created these monsters and each day another set of eyes peered into his soul. Silence. Blood. Failure. Silence. Blood. Failure. This was the schedule that haunted him. On the eighth day Oneman learned from his “mistakes” and created Conqueror, who was like Oneman in every way, except one: he lacked pride. However, Oneman did not know this.
Growing up, Conqueror learned from the great creations of Oneman. He was diligent in his studies, stalwart in his muscles and clear in his mind. He could not see Oneman’s faults because trust in authority had been ingrained in him. And so the years passed.
Conqueror awoke one morning to the sight of snow, for it was the first day of winter. Ever since he was young Conqueror had liked the sight of the first snow. He slipped out of his covers, walked past where Oneman was studying, opened the door and breathed in. He did not invite Oneman to come outside because he always thought snow impeded his work; it was against him. He put out his muscular hand and a snowflake drifted upon it. The crystal shape did not melt and Conqueror became entranced by it. He saw the beauty of the natural, looked up at the buildings, and realized that Oneman’s innovations would one day crumble at the hand of the natural. The enlightened Conqueror walked calmly inside and stared at Oneman, just as the abominations had done so many years ago. He opened his mouth to say what they had wanted to say, but silence overtook him. Oneman was oblivious, for his pride blinded him from seeing Conqueror as wise.
That night Conqueror slipped back into his sheets and fell asleep in agitation. He walked in a place foreign to him with mist covering the sidewalks, but he knew it had to have been in the Great City. One by one hideous creatures stalked him in the shadows. He turned around, feeling their presence, but the wind was the only being touching him. He ran faster and faster until finally coming to a standstill where oxygen could revive his tired body. There, with nowhere to run, Conqueror caught a glimpse of seven figures hiding amongst the darkness. Exhausted, he tried to speak, but nothing came out. The creatures started to whisper something, but the words were so incoherent that Conqueror could not make it out. All at once, the seven creatures spoke in a chilling and shrill voice, saying, “And he will fall by his own hand.” With sweat pouring from his forehead, Conqueror woke up. He lay there until the break of dawn pondering the dream.
And so, the years passed.
The time came when Oneman sat Conqueror down to explain the future. He said, “I have given you my gifts of strength, knowledge and power. You will become what I have become. The time comes near when I will rule through you.”
Conqueror knew that this was his time set himself apart. All that he had observed and held within came out of his mouth with the force of a knockout punch. “Do your gifts carry any obligations? Do you take pride in me or the fact that you only see yourself in me?”
To this Oneman replied, “How dare you use my gifts and at the same time scoff at them. Foolish being, have you forgotten who you are talking to?”
Conqueror looked Oneman up and down and saw what others couldn’t see. He replied, “No, I have finally realized who I am talking to. You are the foolish being. Do you not realize that you are mortal and the things you create are only temporary? You cannot conquer that which cannot be conquered. Pride has taken you over like a demon that only lives for itself. It works through your hands and through your mind, never letting the heart beat with the virility of wisdom and compassion. You may as well be dead because the demon cannot live forever.”
Oneman became enraged and looked at Conqueror with distain. He laughed aloud and evil poured out every breath. “You plan on destroying me, don’t you? Well come on then, you little wimp. Just remember that I made you and I can destroy you.”
Remembering the dream Conqueror said, “I now see it all so clearly.”
Matching each other in muscle, their bodies clashed with the sound of an earthquake. They fell hard to the floor with adrenaline pumping through their veins. They got up, trying to regain balance while grappling for the upper hand. Each one knew the other’s moves, for they were one and the same. Punches landed and bruises ensued. Blood spilled forth like a flood. Finally, Oneman grabbed Conqueror in a chokehold who, in turn, became dizzy with the lack of oxygen. Oneman cried out in fury, “Don’t you see, I will conquer all.” Hearing this but barely conscious, Conqueror used his last drop of energy to flip Oneman over, knocking the wind out of him.
Oneman lay on the ground, his ego shattered into a million pieces. He looked up to Conqueror in astonishment, looking straight into his eyes. In return, Conqueror stared right back. He took Oneman by the neck and said, “And he will fall by his own hand.” In silence, Oneman breathed no more.

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2003 Eric A Hofmann
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
January 2003
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1107
 

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