Cold Ambitions

By The Wonton

One of the few consistent aspects of my life is that I can be described as a people watcher. It is a hobby I engage in every time I am in the presence of others. From my observations there is no trait that we humans possess more obvious, consistent, plentiful, and yet, undeservedly shunned as a monstrosity of power hungry men, than the very trait of ambition. I am still always a little surprised when a cringe follows the allegation of such conduct. If thought about in an everyday context I could envision few circumstances, outside of the atom bomb, which would evoke that same recoil. Certainly, I would say, no one would detest written language, civilization, interstellar technologies, and every other realm where mans ambition carries us onward and upward.
I do, however, fully recognize the dark side of mans desire and confess my intent fascination in it. I find it oddly commendable the risks some are willing to take. If administered in the right dosage ones success cannot be quantified. But as in life people do choose to overdose. It is in these choices, and the consequences thereof, where the book resides most heavily.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491839690

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© 2013,2014 The Wonton. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/29/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3971-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3970-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3969-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921813

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Table of Contents

Preface

‘A Haiku No Coup’

‘The Fish Fry’

The Hiker

‘Lily Leapfrog’

‘Orange Crush’

‘The Parrot and the Peacock’

‘The Pyrex Persona’

‘The Periodical’

‘It was but Work’

The Golden Chest

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

‘A Rock and a Shot’

‘The Factory’

‘Efficient Rent’

‘The Smoking Gun’

‘We Talkin’ Bout Practice’

‘Mr. Weird Worm’

Stuck On Stupid

My Happily Ever Beginning

Sharks and Shampoo

Newport Rhode Island

My SoliloqWHY

Randall CANningham

My O.G.

The God Particle

Spilt Milk

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A Knightlife Production

To my son,

I want you to know that anything is possible. Never stop being you. Never stop dreaming.

We have no government armed with power capable of contending with human passions unbridled by morality and religion. Avarice, ambition, revenge or gallantry would break the strongest cords of our Constitution as a whale goes through a net.

John Adams

Preface

Ambition is nothing new, nor was it at the founding of our nation; it is a quality of man that has been widely apparent since The Garden of Eden. For men such as John Adams, and the majority of our other founding fathers, ambition was the scourge of the earth from which everything powerful and evil emanated. It was the trait which made a man untrustworthy, and as he said would easily tear down this newly created and fragile nation. It was thought, and often still is, that a man with ambition is a selfish man who will only adhere to his own agenda.

While that may ring true, and even logically followed, it is not necessarily always the case. To disparage a man simply because he possess this character would be to put the cart before the horse, to paint too broad a brush. The indictment should be dependent upon the actor’s conduct, not the principle. To throw stones at the principle, is to live in a glass house.

One of the few consistent aspects of my life is that I can be described as a people watcher; it is a hobby I engage in every time I am in the presence of others. From my observations, there is no trait that we humans possess more obvious, consistent, plentiful, and yet, undeservedly shunned as a monstrosity of power hungry men, than the very trait of ambition.

I am still always a little surprised when a cringe follows the allegation of such acts. If thought about in an everyday context, I could envision few circumstances, outside of the atom bomb, which would evoke that same recoil. Certainly, I would say, no one would detest written language, civilization, interstellar technologies, and every other realm where man’s ambition carries us onward and upward.

I do, however, fully recognize the dark side of man’s desire and confess my intent fascination in it. I find it oddly commendable the risks some are willing to take. If administered in the right dosage, one’s success cannot be quantified. But as in life, people do choose to overdose.

No doubt this unquenchable thirst for progression is one that has allowed us to become the greatest species to have ever graced this earth. Ambition is the sail to our ship, and, yes, at times, the whale to our boat. But without this fuel nothing around us would be possible. Ambition is the womb of tomorrow. The only question is, what will tomorrow look like?

‘A Haiku No Coup’

Without desire

You have nothing

But deep regret

‘The Fish Fry’

Steam from the grill makes shapes in the sky

Like a poem read your mind decides

What cloudy visions form in your eyes

The size of the plate depends on the man

The seasoning he uses, and the utensils in his hand

As long as no perch bless the menu plan

I will question you not for the grill you chose

Or when the smoke from the grill gets in your nose

Even when it sticks to your clothes, I would say it is no foe

The trick is the fish

Waste no time, fry the big wish

And when it is time to serve, feed no man you will not miss

For your time spent over the grill

Is quicker than the fish with the ailment of ill

THE

HIKER

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One late snowy night, a man sits in front of a fire warming his callused hands. He repeatedly rubs them on top of each other in an effort to stay warm.

The man is a husband, a father, and a worker. His house is small, and the fireplace is even smaller. It has been a hard year for his family, and he has struggled to keep food on the table; but the greater struggle is the one within his own mind.

As the kids are sleeping, he begins telling his wife the grandiose dreams of riches and success that have cluttered his mind since he was a child. The man’s wife, a homemaker, has never dreamed such dreams, and can only nod and listen as she cannot relate or tell a story of her own.

The man is full of ambition, the type that is unusual and possessed only by the greats. Furthermore, he is a scrupulous man who has never deceived nor injured his brethren, even at his own peril. Sadly, however, this kind-hearted man was born with nothing, he is the descendant of nothing, and according to history, will die nothing. As a child, he grew up watching the elite live a wonderful life of splendor and awe. He swore that one day it would be his turn.

Though what is even more unusual than his makeup are the man’s surroundings. Every morning, he wakes up to a giant mountain watching over his town as a father does his children. The mountain is so large, in fact, that the peak cannot be seen for it is hidden by the clouds. Since the days of his first memory, the man has heard inspiring stories about the few who have successfully hiked to the top. Many of these men lived the same life and had the same dreams as he.

Along with the mountain’s gigantic size, comes an even more gigantic legend, one that has been widely told in the village since the town’s conception. The story itself is enough to erect a smile upon even the most unhumorous of men, but the fact that it is actually true makes it extremely dangerous. Hearing a nice story is one thing, but to hear a story and develop hope that your dreams can actually be fulfilled is the dangerous part.

The story goes that a powerful wizard sits atop the hidden peak and grants unbelievable riches to those who can successfully reach him. Upon receiving their riches, the hikers are then free to return home and live out the rest of their lives in grandeur. The process, however, is also the problem. Most men never make it, and their souls remain on the snowy cliffs for all eternity.

Back in front of the fire, the man ends the talk with his wife. Unlike the previous times, however, the man is not simply pacified by his words. Unexplainably, he is suddenly filled with courage. The man stands up and tells his wife he must go and seek the wizard. In his eyes, he will die having never lived if he does not attempt to achieve his dream.

His wife pleads with him not to leave, telling him dead men cannot dream. He wipes the tears from her face, promising to return. The two embrace more passionately than on their wedding night, as if it were their last night. He then grabs his bag, slings it over his shoulder and heads out. She stands on the decrepit porch as the moonlight hits her face. Once he disappears into the horizon, she walks back inside and closes the door; assured she will never see her husband ever again.

The mountain is a three-hour walk from the man’s home, and he arrives at the base shortly before sunrise. Once the man begins the hike, he knows there is no turning back. He takes one last look at the life he is leaving behind, a past that will soon become obsolete. The last thing that runs through his mind is all of the men who have been successful on their journey. He knows that he could soon join them in history. He looks up at the mountain with an unfettered spirit and begins the ascent.

The base of the mountain is an easy victory for the man, but things are soon to change. After a day of hiking, the elements begin to pick up. With the passing elevation, his breathing becomes much heavier and the snow much thicker. Minutes pass by as if they were seconds, and yet, pass by as if they were hours. Before long, the sun’s rays disappear under the horizon, blanketing him in darkness. Alone on the mountain, the moon’s light brings him an odd comfort as his shadow befriends him on the fluffy snow adjacent him.

With little time for a companion, he stabs the jagged ice above his head and uses the handle of the pick to fight on. Having vowed to never rest until he reaches the wizard, the man is unbothered by the force of the growing blizzard. Though his vision is greatly impaired by the downpour, he has little trouble seeing the iced-over remnants of former hikers. The unmarked remains litter the mountainside and cause indentions in the thick, white pallet. Yet, he pays it little mind and climbs through as if the bones were broken twigs. The man will not allow his mind to think of death. He knows if the thought creeps in, he has already lost.

The sunrise brings no change, only a new day and one less friend. The hours slowly pass as the man continues his ascent through the wintery monsoon. Soon falls another sunset, followed by another night, and another sunrise. Before long, the sun rises and sets with no rhyme or reason, and the man loses all sense of time. The hiker begins to wonder if he will ever lay eyes upon the wizard. He ignores the doubt and fights on.

Soon, though he believes it to be the middle of the day, the intensity of the storm becomes so great that he is covered in the whitest darkness ever imagined. A sea of ice begins to rain down and cut his face like a knife. The flakes of snow become so numerous that it cakes on his thick, brown beard. Though he is no reindeer, his nose becomes more red than Rudolph’s, and his ears do its best to mimic. His eyelashes become tiny icicles obstructing his already strained vision. And now, his most important article of clothing, once whole, now more resembles a pair of open-toe sandals. Frostbite soon fills the void left by his shadow.

Another night comes, this one very well his last. Running only on fumes, he struggles on, refusing to quit. Thankfully, his prayers are soon answered with a new sunrise. But it is not the sun which gives him life; it is the revelation. For now, before his eyes, appear the clouds he has seen and dreamed of touching since his childhood.

Full of newly found adrenaline, he scurries up the mountain and bursts through the clouds as if he had been trapped in a cage. Immediately, he drops to his knees and thanks God for allowing him