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CERAMIC D.M. the final judgement is in!
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<blockquote data-quote="Taladas" data-source="post: 614016" data-attributes="member: 448"><p>Speaker vs. Taladas</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>My mother (pic #2) was very young when she met a British naval officer. She was enthralled by my father. She married him despite her family disowning her. Even in Hong Kong marriage to a foreigner is difficult. And it is harder when the marriage lasts less than six months. My father Ensign Jon Peters left my mother and sailed away. I was born three months later. </p><p></p><p>Mother worked hard labor for the crime she committed. Laundry, cleaning, gutting fish whatever would pay. She was stooped and shriveled. Her hands slowly becoming arthritic claws. She always was loving to me and doted as she could afford but the bitterness of her life ate at her like maggots in her soul. Self-hatred and despair rose like the ever present tide and though it might subside like the tide it would rise again. Eventually it took her life. The official reason was pneumonia but she just refused to take care of herself. She wanted it to end.</p><p></p><p> I grew up angry and always hungry. Living practically on the streets I was in a gang and stealing before I can remember. One day I overturned a cart of some vendor and grabbed something or another and ran down the always crowded streets. Rounding a corner at high speed, I ran headlong into Lee Hung. Yeah, Lee Hung the director and star of dozens of wuxia movies, including “Soaring Falcon, Pointing Staff”. (pic #3) I had no idea at the time who he was and I tried to take off. What I remember after that was being on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. </p><p></p><p>“Where are you going in such a hurry?” He said. </p><p></p><p>“ I smelled your breath and was headed for fresh air.” I said still too woozy to get up. </p><p></p><p>He laughed and pulled me up. His grip was firm and unbreakable. I should know I tried like hell to get away. </p><p></p><p>“Would you like some easy money. I have a part for a feisty street kid in this movie.”</p><p></p><p>It was then that I noticed the camera and equipment and the four guys he called a crew. He was serious he wanted me in a movie. I leapt at the chance. He quickly explained the scene to me. The bad guy would walk out of the building and I the brilliant street kid would run into him. He would ask me what I thought I was doing and I would make a smart alec reply. Too easy. </p><p></p><p>The scene began and the bad guy walked out and I ran into him. He asked me what I thought I was doing and I made my smart alec remark and then he smacked me across the face sending me to the ground and then walked off. I was stunned and bleeding, his nail had caught me across the face. Before I knew it Hung handed me five pounds. Looking at the money I decided I liked acting. </p><p></p><p>I hounded Hung for weeks after that trying to get into his movies. Eventually he let me on as an assistant and an occasional bit part. I learned martial arts, at first from some of the actors and then later at schools. I learned a lot not only about martial arts and stunt work but also about mythology and mysticism. </p><p></p><p>I soon became Hung’s sidekick of choice and eventually a star in my own right. With real money I decided to find my father and confront him. I hired private detectives to search him out and hunt him down. I so wanted to tell him what he had done to my mother and to me. Finally after months of searching my detectives had an answer. </p><p></p><p>My father had died about three months ago. He was dead but that wasn’t going to stop me. You see legends and mythology are the stuff a wuxia pictures. I knew every legend, every bit of occult lore there is to know. And there is a ritual to bring the dead back, and an ancient vase, The Vase of the Ever Reaching Octopus (pic #4) to do it with. I spent a fortune to get it. A fortune I didn’t have. </p><p></p><p>I have cast the spell, here at the crypt of my father. He will rise and know what he has done. Death will not be an escape for him. Wait I hear him stirring. He rises. The door opens and he shambles out. (Pic #1) His stare is vacant as he stumbles toward me. I begin my rant, shouting obscenities at him. He reaches out and grabs me. The smell of death is everywhere. He hangs on me, tearing my flesh. I still scream at him telling of my pain of my mother’s pain. It bites into my shoulder and I realize this is not my father but a soul less monstrosity that I have brought up from hell. My last thoughts are that its breath is horrible and I want to get away.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Taladas, post: 614016, member: 448"] Speaker vs. Taladas My mother (pic #2) was very young when she met a British naval officer. She was enthralled by my father. She married him despite her family disowning her. Even in Hong Kong marriage to a foreigner is difficult. And it is harder when the marriage lasts less than six months. My father Ensign Jon Peters left my mother and sailed away. I was born three months later. Mother worked hard labor for the crime she committed. Laundry, cleaning, gutting fish whatever would pay. She was stooped and shriveled. Her hands slowly becoming arthritic claws. She always was loving to me and doted as she could afford but the bitterness of her life ate at her like maggots in her soul. Self-hatred and despair rose like the ever present tide and though it might subside like the tide it would rise again. Eventually it took her life. The official reason was pneumonia but she just refused to take care of herself. She wanted it to end. I grew up angry and always hungry. Living practically on the streets I was in a gang and stealing before I can remember. One day I overturned a cart of some vendor and grabbed something or another and ran down the always crowded streets. Rounding a corner at high speed, I ran headlong into Lee Hung. Yeah, Lee Hung the director and star of dozens of wuxia movies, including “Soaring Falcon, Pointing Staff”. (pic #3) I had no idea at the time who he was and I tried to take off. What I remember after that was being on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” He said. “ I smelled your breath and was headed for fresh air.” I said still too woozy to get up. He laughed and pulled me up. His grip was firm and unbreakable. I should know I tried like hell to get away. “Would you like some easy money. I have a part for a feisty street kid in this movie.” It was then that I noticed the camera and equipment and the four guys he called a crew. He was serious he wanted me in a movie. I leapt at the chance. He quickly explained the scene to me. The bad guy would walk out of the building and I the brilliant street kid would run into him. He would ask me what I thought I was doing and I would make a smart alec reply. Too easy. The scene began and the bad guy walked out and I ran into him. He asked me what I thought I was doing and I made my smart alec remark and then he smacked me across the face sending me to the ground and then walked off. I was stunned and bleeding, his nail had caught me across the face. Before I knew it Hung handed me five pounds. Looking at the money I decided I liked acting. I hounded Hung for weeks after that trying to get into his movies. Eventually he let me on as an assistant and an occasional bit part. I learned martial arts, at first from some of the actors and then later at schools. I learned a lot not only about martial arts and stunt work but also about mythology and mysticism. I soon became Hung’s sidekick of choice and eventually a star in my own right. With real money I decided to find my father and confront him. I hired private detectives to search him out and hunt him down. I so wanted to tell him what he had done to my mother and to me. Finally after months of searching my detectives had an answer. My father had died about three months ago. He was dead but that wasn’t going to stop me. You see legends and mythology are the stuff a wuxia pictures. I knew every legend, every bit of occult lore there is to know. And there is a ritual to bring the dead back, and an ancient vase, The Vase of the Ever Reaching Octopus (pic #4) to do it with. I spent a fortune to get it. A fortune I didn’t have. I have cast the spell, here at the crypt of my father. He will rise and know what he has done. Death will not be an escape for him. Wait I hear him stirring. He rises. The door opens and he shambles out. (Pic #1) His stare is vacant as he stumbles toward me. I begin my rant, shouting obscenities at him. He reaches out and grabs me. The smell of death is everywhere. He hangs on me, tearing my flesh. I still scream at him telling of my pain of my mother’s pain. It bites into my shoulder and I realize this is not my father but a soul less monstrosity that I have brought up from hell. My last thoughts are that its breath is horrible and I want to get away. [/QUOTE]
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