Okay, this is my first post in a while, and actualy was on the 
FFML before. However, as far as I'm aware, no one even looked anywhere 
near this, so I have to put it on again. Why? Three reasons:
      A: I need the input. Crash, my latest story, has hit a slump, and 
I never was good at grammer or spelling.
      B: There's some other story ideas I have for this particular story 
line, and I need to know if anyone is interested. If no one cares, I'll 
just put the story on my site and not the FFML.
      C: There seems to be an unspoken law on the FFML, primerally 
saying that if you post, your story, spam, etc. must partain to Anime. I 
don't have much access to Anime, and my Magna supply has been cut off. I 
need to know if I can put non-Anime stories on the FFML, or if this 
violates the FAQ.

       That said, here's the basic storyline behind Farenheit 451. In 
the late 1990's the American people's attention span became increasingly 
short. People cared less and less about actual plot and storyline, and 
more and more about getting it done. This was not restricted to TV, but 
continued to the movies, books, music, jobs, even family life. 
       Jump ahead about 50 years. America is the only real superpower 
left in the world. Every other country is dying of starvation, of water 
deprivation. America by comparison is a spoiled brat. It's citzens care 
only for pleasure. Reading is outlawed, because it causes bad feelings. 
The punishment is life in an insane asylum. There are no rules, no laws. 
Children are taught not to learn, but to watch TV and play as a team. 
Individuality is suppressed. In all of this Chaos, even the basics of 
history are warped. Houses are fireproof, and always were. Firemen don't 
stop fires they START them. 
      The rest of the world is not unnarmed dispite the lack of food.  
World War 3 breaks out. America is not caught unprepared, but is still 
beaten back, due to it's laughable defenses. America is defeted, crushed 
by a lone plane bombing the urban areas, the great cities, to dust.
      Guy Montag is a fireman in this warped time. He starts out like 
all the others, a fire starter, a killer of knowledge. But by the end, 
he is a vessal of knowledge, an example of hope for the future.

      Faber was Montag's trainer, of sorts. He, like the small girl 
before him, taught Montag what it means to be a thinker an adult, not 
just a spoiled child who thinks they know joy. By the end of the story, 
Faber and Montag are good freinds, joined together too bring their 
country back from the brink of the Abyss.
      
                      Fahrenheit 451:
                    After the Bombs Land

        A small round table, barely illuminated by the one light that 
hangs precariously above it. Five, ten, perhaps twenty people's 
silhouettes are visible, with only one person clearly seen. He is an old 
man, no less than eighty, and tired-looking. There is a tattoo of an eye 
in a triangle drawn on his hand. He stands and speaks, "Salve!"  A 
resounding cry of "Salve!" returns to him. He speaks again, "My fellow 
Illuminati, this meeting was called together by Senior member Jason. He 
wishes to speak about... um, about..." 
         "Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, oh esteemed one," Comes a voice 
in the shadows.
        The old man sags slightly, then stands straight. "Thank you 
Amanda. Jason, please speak your piece."
        A middle aged man, no more than 40, stands. He is wearing a 
business suit, with the same future symbol on a clasp, connected to the 
lapel. He has a small beard, and light glasses. Holding up a brown book, 
he speaks, "Esteemed brothers and sisters, I have come here to get the 
highly controversial story of Fahrenheit 451, an ancient story of 
firemen who burn instead of save, and a corrupt, ignorant America, 
banned form the shelves." He slams the book down on the table, and looks 
at it scornfully, "This... This pack of LIES is decreasing our solders 
moral and causing desention in the ranks when we can brook no such 
things!"
        The old man stands and looks with shock at Jason, "You are 
proposing that we turn away from our past?! From the history of only a 
few years back?! That we follow the edicts of our departed government 
that left us this mess?! You are..." the old man stops in mid-phrase, 
bent over and coughing.
        "No, I am not," replies Jason sadly, "Our people are well aware 
of what has transpired. Remember, it was your generation with this 
memory power problem, not mine. And there is still no need for them to 
be bludgeoned with it. We cannot afford such dangers ideas. Nor can we 
simply edit the book for we have no time. We need a grand gesture, one 
to truly awaken their spirit of victory! What we need," as Jason spoke, 
he bent forward, hiding his face in the shadows, and keeping the light 
at bay, "is a sacrifice."
        Jason steps back, and pulls out a small rectangular box. There 
is an audible beep as  pushes a button. A flickering holographic 
projection of Earth appears on the map. Almost all of the planet, 
excluding North America, is red. North America is blue. "The red is the 
United Equality Alliance and the blue is, well, us. Or should I say, was 
us."
        Jason pushes another button. Canada and Mexico begin to be eaten 
up by the red. Then the red begins to creep into the United States. 
"Everyday, we lose more and more ground to the U.E.A., but it wasn't 
until Fahrenheit 451 was released that we started losing major ground. 
And now, this." He gestures sadly to the now almost all red globe. The  
few areas that are still blue are primarily the colony states.
        "You're argument makes no sense, Jason," comes a confused voice, 
"You blame a book for your own incompetence?"
        "No, my argument does make sense, and here's why: People fight 
with their hearts. If they have no need, no desire to win, for any 
reason, then they've already lost." Jason picks up the book and flips it 
open. "Page 87 of Fahrenheit 451, 24th line from the top: 'People are 
having fun. Committing suicide! Murdering!' What type of image does this 
paint in your minds? Does it solicit images of joy and beauty? No! Now 
imagine what a solder, a trained killer would do after reading that. He 
would stop and ponder it, at the worst possible time, in the MIDDLE of a 
WAR!!"
 Jason opens the book again. "Many of you remember the mechanical 
hounds. Some of you even helped to make them. Nothing is more efficient 
against infantry. The mere sight of those metal beasts can cause enemy 
solders to desert. Now, however, our solders don't trust them. In this 
book," Jason's voice begins to rise, in both volume and urgency, "these 
angles of vengeance are portrayed as demons, used to hunt down and kill 
innocents. The same for our computers operated bombers, and machine gun 
turrets. Every bit of our technology, our only chance for winning, is 
being looked upon as traitors. Medics can't use reguva-pods, laser 
sights are being laid aside. The end 
result is we are losing. Losing ground, losing solders, losing 
technology, losing morale, losing lives, losing this war!" Jason's voice 
rises to a shout, and then falls silent.
        The old man stands, "You expect us to believe that you are 
losing a war due to literature? I find it hard to believe that you are 
willing to blame a book for your own inadequacy." He crosses his arms 
and glares at Jason. "You hide behind morale and distrust, but you have 
yet to place and definitive evidence before us. A pretty speech is nice, 
but pointless. Now, do you have any real evidence?"
        Jason smiles, "Yes, sir. Lt. Colonel Michael Ravenhunter, please 
step forward."
        A huge man in military uniform, that looks more like scales from 
all the medals clanks forward. A short black ponytail hangs down behind 
him. In a voice tinted only with respect, he replies "Yes, sir!"
        Jason looks at him and says, "Lt. Please describe for us what 
happened at the battle for Quebec, about... 1500 hours, and five days 
into the battle."
        The big solder says "At that point, the mech-dogs were on the 
field, fighting damned well, when some of our boys started shooting at 
them. The dogs can take most anti-personnel rounds without a scratch to 
their armor, but those solders were using anti-tank rounds! Any way, 
just before I get someone over there to find out what the hell those 
idiots were doing, I get a message over the tac-net. It went like this: 
Disregard last message, mech-hounds not programmed to attack all 
infantry, just U.E.A. solders."
        "Do you know who released  that message?"
        "Yes sir. It was Private Ryoga Mishiko."
        "Did you find out why he would do such a thing?"
        "Yes sir. At first we were going to dismiss him on a Section 
Eight, but then we found a book, one that we soon realized explained his 
actions."
        "And the name of that book Colonel?"
        "Fahrenheit 451, sir."
        "Thank you solder. Please return to your post." Jason made a 
dismissive gesture.
        "Yes sir." The solder clanked into the shadows.
        Jason smiled the smile of a victor. "I believe that qualifies as 
evidence sir."
        The old man stands up. "does anyone wish to speak on the book's 
behalf?" There was a general mummer around the room, but no one stood 
up. "No one? Then I shall speak for it."
        "By all means elder, please show us your... wisdom." Jason 
smiles as he sits down.
        The old man coughs and begins his speech. "Fellow Illumunati, 
many of you remember a time when our government made owning books 
illegal. Anyone caught with them was placed in an asylum, or killed 
outright. Many people turned to murder or suicide. It was also at that 
time, when World War III began. America grew more and more senile with 
every passing day. We conquered and killed, spreading our freighting 
message of 'Love fun, kill and play, no one cares!' followed by voices 
that never shut up, but said NOTHING! 
        Do you know why America fell so far so fast? Because of one 
word: Cen-ser-ship. Every idea, every thought, every action, every word! 
was reduced to nearly nothing. And slowly but surely, the beast's 
appetite grew. It devoured shows like Sesame Street, and replaced them 
with shows like Barney! J.R.R. Tolken for Dr. Sues! The Seven Voyages of 
Sinbad for Popeye! It spread like a cancer, until any worthwhile book, 
game, movie, show was gone, leaving only the empty shell of a former 
greatness," he pauses for breath.
        "A friend of mine said before the reconstruction that mankind is 
like the Phoenix. Do you know about the Phoenix? It's this bird, and 
every so many years, it makes a pyre, lights it, and tosses itself into 
the flames. And every time, it dies, only to rise again in a couple of 
days. We do the same thing. We build up our stuff, making them grand. 
Then we start to destroy our stuff, and ourselves. Later, when it's all 
gone, we get up, and start the whole damn thing all over again. The only 
difference is that every time we start the whole cycle, there are a few 
more who remember the destruction. A few more who remember that 
destruction hurts."
        He begins to shout, "Do none of you understand? Do you yearn for 
a time when the burning of homes and ideas was commonplace?" He whirls 
to face Jason, "Solders are NOT little toys to be marched out and wiped 
out. They are people! Rule number one of war is: War is stupid! DON'T DO 
IT!" He turns to face the group as a whole, "You cannot blame a book for 
our mistakes, no more than you can blame the wind for the war!"
        Someone shouts, "What would you suggest?"
        The old replies sadly, "I suggest, that we surrender."
        From the roar of outrage at such a suggestion, two voices cut 
through the noise. "A vote! Leave it to a vote!" Jason and the old man 
cry. The roar begins to slow, and dies.
        Jason shouts "Cast your vote! Victory without Fahrenheit 451 or 
Surrender with it!"
        The people begin to cast their votes. At regular intervals, the 
tally is counted. "25 for war!"  "53 for peace!" "100 for war!"...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

        The old man sits alone in the dark. His face is buried in his 
hands. "I'm sorry Faber, so sorry. I tried to save the book, to save our 
country. But they would not listen. They shouted me down. Damnit. Why 
couldn't they understand? Can't they see? We cannot win this war. We are 
outnumbered, outgunned. And those fools just climb higher and higher, 
looking for the highest cliff, and dragging the rest of us to our doom. 
And when they finally do reach the top of Olympus, Ares and Hades will 
gladly shove us off, and then... we start again." Montag got up. He 
walked to the door, looked around slowly, shook his head in surrender 
and left.

Author's notes

Ares is the Greek god of war, a notorous coward and crybaby.

Hades is the Greek god of death, noted for his grim, emmotionless state.

Michael Ravenhunter is just a character name I use when I run out of 
ideas.

Ryoga Mishiko is not ment to have any resemblance to Ryoga Habiki.

The origonal story was writen by Ray Bradsbury. He was noted for his 
movements against censership, and editing the 'soul' of the story. For a 
better example, check out the book and read the last chapter.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-
Lucas 'Lupus' Scarpati

E-mail latin_wolf@hotmail.com
URL geocities.com\tokyo\bay\6902

"You FOOL! Your meddling will kill us all!" Jason Overfeind to Lina 
after the release of Gladiator Alpha.

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