Authors Carlos

First publication Feb. April 1993.Rewrite Feb. 2006.

EXCERPT

Arabian philosophies and styles selected by the writer are not in anyway intended to contradict any religious dogmas. The expressions of the language used, is written in the style most suited to the period of each event.
It is not always wise to sharpen your blade, in case a protagonist cuts through your reputation=: a bit of Bacon, perchance?
This version is especially for the intellectuals to fragmentize at their own
risk to tie or not to untie, a knot or two.
Many arguable fabrications linked to the third child of John and Mary
Arden Shakespeare, are played out close to the boundary of Stratford-upon-
Avon. Several rebuffs, along with conjectural mysteries are confined within
the spirit of William of the Oak. Even so, predictable accusations cast at
William, is in truth unproven, and in truth, remains unproven. Whereas,
dissentious and deliberately false statements are pronounced improbable by the
many pundits going to great lengths to earn a bob or two, by spouting their cases.
The basis of The X Argument, are the protruding-abdomen of England versus the literary-common of England.

CARLOS
The X Argument.
Will of the Oak.
It was the season of growth when Carlos sighted the copse near
Stratford-upon-Avon, where the spirit of William of the Oak was in compulsory residence. The copse was commanded by a solitary massive majestic oak tree, and ringed by clusters of white hawthorns, in their springtime productive prosperity. Three centuries earlier, the copse was a nest of stinging nettles, dock leafs and decaying acorns.
Carlos's memory endures only for one day at a time, however, certain memories, for instance, the massacre of his nineteen his family remain as vivid as a crisp clear morning sunrise blasting across the Spanish Seria Nevada. Carlos, was not to know whether his visit to the copse would be as disastrous as any previous visitor. When Will of the Oak, confronted Carlos, he burst into arrogant allegations.
"Is this an actor I see? On the other hand, is it the spirit of a lost imagination, or a summary dream of an unproven guilty past? Or is it perchance a pointedly ghastly habitual craving for the accuracies? Is it to be yes, or it is to be no? How long must I chew in nugatory lyric in this singular dawn?"
The Bards unexpected striking welcome to Carlos, was cut short by a voice emanating from 'I Am'.
"Know that you can glide to me as a one William, if you admit that you're literary past is flawed? Otherwise you must remain captive in this heap, and await another visitation until, until perhaps forever."
Carlos thought he recognized the voice of the 'I Am'. It was then he sensed, he had witnessed a failed pickup, on a similar sunrise centuries earlier, but he was not sure. Was he to hear a testimony of denial or observe a confession?
"An unusual spirit, bathed in wisdom, carried your contribution to the land of your kin, and your own flesh William. In addition, audiences at your plays watched and heard your plots in awe. You did not qualify yourself in the spirit, to be in spirit. Do you know why, William, do you know why?"
Harmony expressed in justice was being offered as an fit proposal. The decision had to be the Bards to recognize the offer, or continue in confinement within the ancient copse.
Carlos, waited. It was not in his power to go anywhere, anyway. He dismissed further propositions measured at the spirit of Will of the Oak, knowing well they were of no consequence to him.
"And like the baseless fabric of this vision, am I doomed to grasp its threads? Or will I be appraised from within the transparent soul of this manifestation before me? Pray, if it champions such a treat, then let the argument commence?" William, taunted Carlos. It was total rejection of the proffered offer.
"William. You are listening but not hearing me. Only the pure in spirit tread in my theatre, from which they never stray, and are now as one with me. You have digressed and denied allegations of abuse of your spiritual pact with me. William, do you hear me?" boomed the voice, forcefully, but without aggression
Many critical nomadic type changes, vital to a judgement, lay concealed in the cellar of Wills' memory. Were they deliberately dormant, or personified as if a fool in Hamlet? He was determined to remain calm, knowing argument is seldom won in anger. Was the reckoning given, unsure? William was not convinced. as are virgin players walking on stage for their first appearance, each knowing that mere lines were lost without a prompt. William of the Oak had no prompt, in this, his vital front of stage performance, so William responded to the dictum wisely, he thought, as he shunned away the lighter darkness than grey.
"Is this insubstantial and fleeting sight in evidence pageant before me
to fade before my very eyes or is it here to haunt me?" Asked the spirit of the eminent playwright. "It is not always wise to sharpen your blade in case a protagonist cuts through your reputation," he thought. "Now, to be sure, you are embarked upon a confession from me. Try me. I am bound to listen. I have witnessed them on many occasions. Maybe, would I be given the option here and now, in this damp copse, before I discover the mystery of a spiritual one from yonder where I know not?"
"The issue is not mine, sir. I am not an approved counsel," Carlos countered in his defence.
"Then tell me, who is it, him or they, holding the many discarded nouns that feed the fighting kestrels in the depth of my soul? Am I being blamed for the blooded breast each wounded bird displays?"
"William. You are not listening. Hear me. Do you attest to your actions in question? Consider your answer carefully."
"Do my ears deceive me? Has the spirit within that doublet disgorged my
secret? Am I not the spirit to whom all England homage owes? In the coating of my own pure flesh, was I not of a world subject to death?, Am I for all time to be marooned on this bit of English dirt?" William cried out in seldom seen uncontrolled anger. "As Judas sold the son of Mary. Who would dare to cast twenty pieces at my feet, for I never sold any mortal, let alone a soul?"
Carlos, confused by the ardent soliloquy given by the near naked William parading around the oak, adopted an attitude of hereditary loss of hearing, refusing to be drawn into any dialogue with the Bard.
"It is my own transgression I seek to clear. No desires have I to demolish warrant for his," Carlos declared, addressing the master behind the voice of the inquisitor.
"Bard in the copse, again I implore you, pay heed my frankness and listen not as a recreant? Did you ever, with stealth, borrow entirely, separately or in bulk, distinct notions from (Sir) Francis Bacon? It matters but slightly that the flesh shows kindness if the rational understanding of the spirit of the flesh has been fouled. Think carefully William, and in truth. Do not presume that I have never seen vanity in the spirit. I have always assumed the debts of the ashamed when the guilty show true remorse, and you must know this indeed well."
"I see the vision and hark the invisible voice which as a cloud towers over this comely oak. The solemn temples of the globe itself bear witnesses to my pageants. As we hear when dragged into an earnest conversation, we quill in the language of the mind in all exponents. In that I see no guilt," Will of the Oak replied.
"Do I hear my own experience blasted in contempt? Is such scorn a
mirror of mine own? For sure, now I am brave enough to admit it. It was me. I failed to admit in truth."
"I hear you both in tones far transgressed from the other. Carlos you
are now welcome. Your scene in this world is over. However, William of the Oak, your status is unchanged. Should you decide to bear a witness robe of truth, then you also can follow the mariner gliding home to be a 'one'. You too will be welcomed. Alas William, I fear that when yonder Oak has perished and many future Oaks grow into majestic trees and fade with more to follow, perhaps William, then, and only then, is your scroll to be seen, written in your truth. My gift to earthly beings is and always will be, free will, until the moment before becoming a one."

END OF THE X ARGUMENT

Carlos standing on the stone slab covering coffin her called to Alisha

"Alisha, We can go as a one Do you hear Me." he called to her repeating her name over and over. The was no reply. . . . . .

Author resume.

The author was born in Liverpool England. He has traveled widely throughout Europe, the middle East, Central and Southern Africa, and undertook Military Service from 1944 to 1956. As well as writing, he enjoys composing music and writing lyrics and developing abstract art.

Important information about the author ~

The authors mother was the well known Welsh medium Patricia Katherine Hughes, of Holyhead Anglesey North Wales. 1893 – 1975. She was also recognised as a spiritualist and practiced as such. She was noted for her predictions, be it often unfavourably in veracity.
'Carlos' is a series of novels containing important predictions, some have occurred, others will. The predictions are in a startling collection of ongoing short stories where fantasy and reality merge to become one.

Ref No. 102057FA : Carlos