Late Night Quote

"All men dream; but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds
wake in the day to find that it was vanity:
but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men,
for they may act their dreams with open eyes,
to make it possible"
                       - Lawrence of Arabia (1888 - 1935)

Ghosts

Ghosts
Playing With Traffic

Your fishbowl eyes

Are seeing things backwards, now

You're hearing lies

That sound of laughter, girl

So they're feeding

And they're dipping

In to your soul again

But you're feeding

Ya you're dipping

In to my soul again

I'll watch your back

When there's ghosts all around you dear

I'll watch your back

Cause there's ghost all around you dear

I'll watch your back

When there's ghost all around you dear

You're not alone

When the Devil's inside your head

Don't live your life

thinking 'bout what's to come

Cause the one you're living

It's here and it's begun

But you're feeding

Ya you're dipping

In to my soul again

So they're feeding

And they're dipping

In to your soul again

Lyrics written by Cory Davis in collaboration with Allan Mitchell 

Just a Quote

"It is as though the words spread out like dye in water and colour everything around them. A strange and mystic business, writing"
                             - John Steinbeck

An Idea on Ideas

Combined Creativity

My blog today is inspired by Roy H. Williams' Monday Morning Memo. Within the Memo was a video created by Steven Johnson entitled Where Good Ideas Come From. Johnson's theory is that the best ideas are derived from a collections of ideas (or hunches), and that it can take an extended period of time before they evolve into their true form.

The video is genius and Johnson's idea is spot on in my opinion.

I have always said that teamwork will create something better than that of an individual effort; the value of combined creativity and collective thinking is far greater than working alone without the friction of outside opinion.

Steven Johnson can say it better than I, so I implore to watch his video! - Where Good Ideas Come From

Also, if you enjoy creative thinking, interesting thoughts, and mind altering tidbits, than I suggest you subscribe to the Monday Morning Memo.

Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Cheers,



Cory Davis

The Tale of Bumble the Dwarf

Part II - The Traveling Waresman 

         An hour before midday Bumble had come up with a plan and was preparing to put it in action. A nervous excitement coursed through his veins as he surveyed the room one last time. The plan was simple. During the midday feast, citizens of Dwellham all gathered in the main hall leaving virtually every cave in the underground village unattended. Even better, since Horase sat at the head table with the king and his council members, the weaponry was sure to deserted. All Bumble had to do was take his mule and wagon down to the weaponry and gather what he needed; if all went to plan, he would be above ground before his treachery was discovered. He could be far away before anybody came looking for him. If they even came looking at all, Bumble thought to himself. The council had already banished him from the village, and the clan members had long ago announced their desire for his head on a pike. Bumble was hoping his thievery would be overlooked considering he was obeying the order to leave the village.

        “Do I have everything I need?” Bumble muttered to himself before leaving the room. He had packed the basic necessities in a leather backpack given to him by his father. He went over the items in his head for the third time. In it was a change of clothing, an atlas containing maps of land above, several strips of dried meat, a couple loafs of bread with cheese, and a canteen full of water. All was in check, so Bumble put his traveling cloak on and swung the backpack over his shoulders. He now wore his mythril shirt beneath the blue tunic and it chaffed his skin. Despite Horase's message, Bumble knew the clan members to be conniving bastards – a knife in the chest prior to the eviction deadline was not out of the question.

         “A small price for success,” whisper Bumble as he adjusted the pack into a more comfortable position and without looking back, he left his house knowing he would never return.

        Bumble found his mule in the stables chewing happily on a bale of hay; the grey animal paid little attention to the dwarf as he approached. The mule, much like his owner, was short, stocky, and had a long beard flowing down from his aged muzzle. The beard was pure white and strands of hay were tangled throughout.

        Bumble patted the animal on the head, “Well, Buckley, the day has finally come. I've been banished.” The mule wiggled its ears once and continued to munch on a mouthful of hay. Bumble stroked Buckley's head a few more times before walking towards the wooden wagon next to the stable. He took off the backpack and placed it inside next to a small hatchet.

        “I was thinking you might come with me, old pal.” said Bumble turning towards his mule, “It would be nice to have some company.” Buckley wiggled his ears again and proceeded to devour the bale of hay.

        “Even if you are just a dumb ass,” Bumble joked as he strode towards the mule and opened the gate to his stable. Buckley jerked his head up, bayed loudly, and stomped his hooves on the stone ground as if preparing to charge.

        “Whoa, boy! I was only kidding!” exclaimed Bumble stepping back from the snorting animal. “I know you are a loyal mule and not some stupid donkey. I was only looking for some sort of acknowledgement.” Buckley bayed again, but this time not as loudly and without stomping his hooves.

        “Come now, boy, lets stop this foolishness and get a move on. We've got something to do before we leave this hole in the ground,” Bumble beckoned the mule. Buckley looked hesitantly at the dwarf before wiggling his ears and moving towards to wagon, the clamping of his hooves echoing behind him.

        Bumble gathered up what was remaining of the hay bale, an empty pale, and a small keg of water and placed them in the wagon along side his pack and the small hatchet. Buckley placed himself in front of the load and snorted briskly.

        “Oh, don't you start already!” shot Bumble as he began hitching the mule to the wagon. “There'll be more weight in this wagon yet, and your complaining won't get you anywhere.” Buckley lifted his head high but remained silent and allowed Bumble to finish attaching the wagon to the harness.

        After inspecting his work Bumble stood next to Buckley and picked the hay out of the animal's scraggly beard, “Don't worry, old boy. I'll walk beside you not ride upon your back. Now I need to go to the weaponry. Let's move.” The mule looked thankfully towards his owner, wiggled his ears, and started trotting down the dim-lit cave.

       Dwellham was one of the few dwarfish realms that held open trade with members outside their race. Imports and exports were exchanged frequently between Dwellham and the village of Mount Grove above. As a result, the caves were wide, and traveling with a mule and wagon was not an uncommon sight making it easy for Bumble to walk with ease towards his destination. The bell for the midday feast had rung as Bumble was leaving the stables and the caves were now empty – the only sound to be heard was steps of Buckley's hooves. They crept along down the twisting and turning road listening for the sound of any stragglers until finally they came to the end of the trail. A large wooden shed stood tall against the smoothed rock of the cave. It was unguarded just as Bumble had hoped. However, as he approached the shed, he could see that the door was locked shut. Bumble ushered Buckley to stop and strode towards the shed to inspected the lock. A hitch covered the door and its frame; the lock was firmly latched to the hitch. Bumble smiled to himself. Horase had attached the hitch to a wooden door and a wooden frame.

        “What an idiot,” chortled Bumble as he retuned to the wagon and withdrew the hatchet from within. 

        After collecting the ax, he walked back towards the shed and took aim, “Thanks yet again, Horase,” he said and started swinging madly at the wood around the lock and hitch. The wood gave way after only a couple swings. The lock clanged loudly on the floor below, and the door swung open revealing the weaponry of Dwellham.

        Now inside, Bumble could see that an archway had been cut into the back of the shed; a large room had been etched into the rock which the shed stood against. It seemed that the exterior appearance of the weaponry was simply a farce, a distraction from what was inside. Bumble surmised it was a tactic to deter robbers from the outside world from stealing the renowned dwarfish arms of Dwellham. Luckily for Bumble, he was not from the outside world. Not yet anyway.

        Bumble quickly packed the wagon full of goods. He laid the bottom with shields and piled various pieces of armour on top. Next, he slid swords, spears, and axes of several different sizes into any opening he could find. Buckley looked towards the dwarf with a suspicious look in his eye.

        “You're right.” Bumble answered sensing the mule's penetrating stare, “I'll need something to cover all this,” he continued motioning towards overflowing wagon. Without another word Bumble shuffled back to the weaponry and disappeared into darkness of the shed. After a minute or two he returned with a large piece of canvass and began covering his recently acquired merchandise.

        “Going somewhere?” asked a deep, methodic voice from the shadows of the road leading to where Bumble stood tying down the final corner of canvass.

        Bumble jumped staring ahead into the darkness with wide, frightened eyes, “W-who's there?” he asked in a shaky voice.

        A tall dwarf with a short red beard and grey, malevolent eyes walked out of the shadows. The stranger wore a red jerkin with a matching kilt; the emblem of an anvil-headed hammer was stitched into each piece of clothing with black thread, and the dwarf's chiseled muscles flexed violently as he approached.

        “You're a... you're a c-c-clan member,” stammered Bumble. He wanted to run for his life, but the determined stare of the clan member blatantly stated that escape was not an option.

        “That's right, Bumble, I am. And I've come to show you what happens to those who betray the dwarfish ways!” the clan member barked as he unsheathed a hunter's knife from his belt.

        “But the council said I had until after the midday meal!” demanded Bumble trying to sound braver than he felt.

        “I'm a quick eater,” responded the muscular dwarf stepping within reach of his prey.

        Bumble tried to back up but the wagon stood in his way. He was cornered. He searched frantically hoping to find something that would save his life. The hatchet lay atop the canvass covering, but it was just beyond his grasp. It was too late anyway, the clan member was upon him.

        “P-please...” whimpered Bumble.

        “No. It's time to burst, Bubble Boy!” bellowed the clan member as he thrust the knife into Bumble's stomach.

        The knife sliced through Bumble's traveling cloak and cut open the tunic beneath. But the blade stopped short as it came in contact with the mythril shirt. The clan member stood still looking bewildered. Bumble seized the opportunity by knocking the knife from the clan member's hand and reaching out to pick up the hatchet. Before the clan member had time to react, Bumble swung hard hitting the dwarf on the head with the blunt side of the ax. The clan member's eyes glazed over and he collapsed in a heap on the ground with the confused look still painted on his face.

       Bumble looked at the hatchet in his hands amazed by what had just happened. Somehow he was still alive. Somehow he had knocked out a clan member, a trained warrior of Dwellham. Pride swelled up inside him as he stood over the unconscious dwarf. The sound of Buckley's loud baying snapped Bumble's attention to the task at hand.

        “Right you are, boy.” Bumble replied to the animal, “Let's get out of here before any more visitors drop by.” 

He dragged the clan member off to the side of the cave, and after getting Buckley and the wagon turned around, Bumble crept forward away from crime scene and towards his freedom. 

        The time that passed while they stole through the caves of Dwellham was a blur to the dwarf. They met no others while weaving their way to the exit above, heard no shouts of alarm, and had no hint that anybody knew of Bumble's treason. He replayed the past events in his mind over and over again until suddenly they reached the mouth of a cave that opened up to the world outside the mountain. The sun's bright light shinned through the opening illuminating the cave; wind blew fresh, clean air into Bumble's lungs; and the songs of the birds' chirping came echoing through the cave.

         “At last,” Bumble thought to himself, “I am free of the darkness.” He led Buckley outside into the vastness of a lush-green valley and took a deep, refreshing breath.

        “Well, my friend,” he sang to Buckley, “say hello to your new master. From this day forth, I am Bumble the Traveling Waresman!” And with that, Bumble and his mule ventured off into their new found home.

A note from the author:

        For those interested, Bumble's adventures had only just begun with his exile from Dwellham. His exploits in the outside world lead him far and wide, and just as in his dream, he establishes a shop in Mount Grove. And one day a young boy does appear outside of that shop. However that is where I will leave you. But fear not! The tale itself does not end here. The story of those who have their names written in the Pages of Destiny is continued in my first book: The Adventures of Dade & Cazem - Curse of the Dream Warriors.

        Keep an eye out for details and release date. It's sure to be a thrilling read!

                                                                                                                                                - Cory Davis 

The Tale of Bumble the Dwarf

Part I - The Oust

        Bumble was as ordinary a dwarf as one could call such creatures. He had a round, chubby face with a plump nose and dark, mischievous eyes. Like most of his kind, Bumble wore a beard and was short and bulky; in fact, his shoulders were so wide that when he approached a doorway he had to turn sideways in order to pass through. There was one strange thing about Bumble though. A difference that separated him from the other dwarves. Bumble loathed the underground caves that were home to his people. He lived in constant fear of the mountains above caving in on him.

        Eventually Bumble's phobia led to ridicule and harassment from his fellow dwarves They cast him evil looks wherever he went and called him names in their native tongue – names that cannot be spoken in the language of men – and there came a time when Bumble was drove out of the caves altogether. Now as fate would have it, this is exactly what The Makers had planned for Bumble. You see, he and several others had their futures written in the Pages of Destiny, a scroll containing various prophecies which dictated the battle between good and evil.

        The night prior to Bumble's dismissal from the caves beneath Mount Grove, he had and an extraordinarily vivid dream. In the dream Bumble was a traveling merchant selling drawvish wares; he was filthy rich; and most importantly, he slept each night beneath the stars. During his escapades he had traveled the world and learned a great many things from elves, sorcerers, and men. He had even established a shop next to Mount Grove as an insult directed at the caves he had once called home. Bumble continued to sleep until a young boy appeared in the dream. The boy introduced himself as... Bumble woke with a start as a loud knocking came thundering into his dream. Reality came flooding back, and Bumble sighed loudly before pushing himself out of the low cot and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The smell of fresh grass still lingered in his nose making him long to be back at his home in the dream. “Home...” Bumble mused to himself while he absently stroked his long, dark beard.

        “Dammit! Answer at once, Bubble!” shouted an angry voice from outside the room. Bumble staggered towards the door after quickly dressing himself in a blue tunic and his plaid kilt. Before he was able to open the door, however, a surly looking dwarf with a braided beard burst into the room.

        “Took yer sweet assed time, Bubble!” spat the intruder as he brushed passed Bumble and helped himself to a piece of bread lying on the table. The dwarf turned to face Bumble, a sly grin etched into his face, “Although I, the brave and loyal Horase, Weapons Keeper of Dwellham, am mighty pleased to be the one given you yer banishment.”

        “My what?” questioned Bumble with a startled look, his eyes growing wide with anxiety.

        “Yer banishment. It seems you've outgrown yer welcome in these caves, and it's the councils decision that you should be exiled before some of the clan members take it upon themselves to oust you. And they can be very nasty bunch, Bubble. Consider yerself lucky.”

        “B-but...” stammered Bumble. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help himself from picturing the dream in his head. Was it some kind of sign, was he meant to leave the caves and become a traveling merchant? It all seemed so confusing, so impossible. How would he afford the items to sell in the first place? And who was that young boy? That particular question had been nagging at Bumble the second he awoke from the odd dream. It seemed as if he should know who the boy was.

        Horase's voice snapped, “There be no buts this time, Bubble, yer out. You've got until after the midday meal. If yer not gone by then, the clan members will be out fer blood.

        Anger rose within Bumble as he finally registered that Horase had been mispronouncing his name, something the others did often as a joke. “My name is Bumble,” he retorted confidently.

        “Whatever,” replied Horase as he walked back towards the entrance, “Just remember, after the midday meal, yer fair game.” With that, Horase walked out of the room slamming the door behind him.

        Bumble stood silently for a few minutes trying to collect his thoughts. The anger inspired by Horase's arrogance had left him feeling exhilarated. He had never stood up to anyone before, and the confidence the confrontation had bestowed upon him felt great. Horase had always been a bully. It was about time somebody put the 'brave and loyal' in his place Bumble thought to himself. A smirk slowly spread wide across his face as a plan slowly started to come to fruition. 

        “Thanks, Horase.” Bumble whispered to himself, “Your rudeness has given me an idea.”

        Bumble now knew where he was going to find the first items he would sell as a merchant. He was going to steal them. Steal them from Horase.   

The Same

The Same
Playing With Traffic


Last chance to say goodbye
One dance, with romance
Addictions take their toll
But why run, just have some.

When I walk away
She will call my name
Please back one day (and)
Still be the same
Do you see the way
Clouds will turn to rain
She just called to say (I)
Still feel the same

Kept silent for too long
There's no hint, I'm hell bent
Before I stand to leave
I want more, I need more

Lyrics written by Cory Davis 

My Friend

My Friend 
Playing With Traffic 


When you're down and out
Taking shots in the bout
Don't hide or run away
Patience will purge this pain

My friend, you gotta set yourself free
My friend, you gotta let yourself be
Be still, no hurry, no need to run
Be still, it takes time to be at one

Life will you toss you around
Never setting you down
But buckle up and ride
Currents change with the tide

My friend, you gotta set yourself free

My friend, you gotta let yourself be

Be still, no hurry, no need to run

Be still, it takes time to be at one

Lyrics written by Cory Davis 

River of Deceit

I've been listening to a lot of bands that formed - and disappeared rather quickly - during the grunge era. One such band is Mad Season. 


Mad Season was a side project of Pearl Jam guitarist Mike McCready; a band he formed after going to rehab and becoming sober. Mike approached Layne Staley of Alice in Chains and asked him to join the band as lead singer and front man. McCready had hoped that being around a sober bunch would inspire Staley to get clean himself... unfortunately, the plan didn't work. 


However, during their time together, Mad Season recorded the album Above. Writing the songs on the album Staley quoted as being a "spiritual journey". That evidence is clear on the song "River of Deceit". I have a certain relationship to this tune, and I thought I would share it in hopes that I could revive some of Staley's most honest and beautiful work. 

River of Deceit - Mad Season - YouTube Video


My pain is self-chosen
At least, so The Prophet says
I could either burn
Or cut off my pride and buy some time
A head full of lies is the weight, tied to my waist

The River of Deceit pulls down, oh oh
The only direction we flow is down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down

My pain is self-chosen
At least I believe it to be
I could either drown
Or pull off my skin and swim to the shore
Now I can grow a beautiful shell for all to see

The River of Deceit pulls down, yeah
The only direction we flow is down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down
Down, oh down

The pain is self-chosen, yeah
Our pain is self-chosen

A Thought About Books

Some books should be tasted

some devoured,

but only a few 

should be chewed and digested thoroughly.

Cornelia Funke, Inkheart