Joe Pipal

Wolf Point High School

Class of 2004

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Joe Pipal - Class of 2004 - Wolf Point High School

First Name	Joe
Last Name	Pipal
Graduation Year	Class of 2004
Gender	Male
Hometown	Wolf Point, Montana
Relationship Status	Single
About Me	I am a man who has been to The Tower and back. I have gazed into the center of The Rose and beheld the many worlds that exist both alongside and within our very own. Of those worlds I have traveled to several. I have been to Mid-World, ridden and fought alongside Roland Deschain of Gilead, son of Steven. I have faced off against both demons and monsters alike, and lived to tell the tales. I have faced my greatest fears and stared down The Grim Reaper, leaving him to tend to the dead. I have seen The Prim. I have been to both The Great Clearing and The Void and managed to return. I have seen The Great Tree of Knowledge and have spoken with Gan. What I learned there pushed me to the brink of madness and, yet, I still maintain most of my sanity. I have danced to The Song of the Thinnies, I have danced to The Ves-ka Gan, I have danced The Commala, I have sung The Skin-Man's Song. I have seen the horrors of Todash, first hand, and became lost in that dark place. Wandering in the vast emptiness for what seemed like an eternity. Until I was saved by a bright, shining light from the heart of another, on the outside of that cruel place. I have lived several lives before this one, and have had dinah more lovers than that. I was once called Eddie Dean. Before that, Cuthbert Allgood, and much longer ago than that, Arthur Eld. I am now known, to some, as Joseph Pipal of Wolf Point, son of Lee. Prisoner to none. I have found The Path of The Beam and follow it still, for ten long years I have. Of ka-tets I've been many, of these ka-tets I have been Dihn to a few... Of all of these ka-tets... They have all ended in ka-shume... I have achieved the seventh level khef-adept status and I go by many names. If you listen closely you can hear the wind spread tales of the deeds, both good and bad, of those monikers. Some call me a savior, others call me the harbinger of doom... Most, however, call me Kas-ka Gan, and leave me to roam. Once, a lifetime ago and for several years, I had forgotten the face of my father. Now I remember, not only, the face of my father, but also that of my own. My body exists in this "physical realm", this "shroud" that we all like to call "Reality", but where you all see in three dimensions, I see in five. I see the pattern of The Universe or, Multiverse, rather. I told the tale of "The Dark Tower" before I had even heard of this "Stephen King" sai. In one of these world's that I traversed that great series of novels was written by a man named Esteban Yeoman. One of my many sobriquets through out my journeys. Of course I've shed blood, but never in vain. I can see the forces that surround us, some of which are causing the pain. The Pain of the Multiverse, the pain that strikes right down to the heart of our very own Earth. I speak of the dark forces, the minions of The Prim, soldiers of The Void. These beings must be stopped, balance must be restored to end the suffering of The Multiverse, the suffering that exists within each of us. For, you see, we are all, each and every one of us a multiverse ourselves. Although I have called out that epic rallying cry, "Gunslingers to me!" hundreds of thousands of times in my quests and have often been called such... A Gunslinger, I am not... However, my mission be all the same. Though the heart of a Gunslinger beats in this chest I have not been trained as such, the training I’ve received is slightly different... I’m what you’d call a Demonslaer, or Slayer of Demons in your tongue. My weapons are not that of powder and lead, or the loud, thundering crash of a bullet breaking the thread, but my wits and my bah, and my bow and my blade, and the acoustic guitar that I carry with me when I go on my way. For I have also been trained in the art of The Rhythm Keepers, guardians and keepers of The Rhythm of The Multiverse... Hear me well fellow travelers and constant readers alike, music is mathematics and mathematics is music. I have played The Song of Chassit, or nine-teen as you might call it, and created a magical spell so powerful that I slain The Ethereal Serpentine of the Eighth Dimension, without so much as a single shot of my bah. There is magic, as well as power, in numbers, just as there is magic and power in music. Read carefully, for this must not be taken lightly. Music makes magic, yet music is born from magic. When you truly understand that and kennit just exactly how it works, then you are ready for the next step. For you see, music and mathematics go hand in hand and are both considered “The Language of the Universe” they are both things that can always be understood and made sense of, no matter what, and they both follow the pattern of The Multiverse. Although The Multiverse is made up of delah universes, they are all still part of one single being, they are all connected, just like we are all connected on some higher level of being... Do ya kennit? Now that you know a little, very little mind you, about me and my travels through space and time, and now that you know a little of my exploits and adventures, and now that you know that a Gunslinger I am not, but a Demonslaer I be... Tell me, be ye ka-me or ka-mai, and tell me who you are, where you have been, what you have done, battles fought, battles lost, fallen ka-mates, ka-mates that have stuck around through two or maybe several different ka-tets alongside you, or maybe a ka-tet that’s been to hell and back and has never felt that dreadful sting of ka-shume... However, most importantly, answer me this, “Do ye fight for The White, for Gan and The Devine Being, for The Rose and The Tower? Or be ye one of The Good Man, Farson’s, men and fight for The Crimson King, for the destruction of The Tower and The Rose? Be ye a minion of The Prim, a soldier of The Void, a seeker of... Discordia?” Think carefully, palaver over my story and my questions for a spell if need be... But, I will tell you this, chose your answer wisely, for you never know where one of us will be. Now, to the conclusion I have come, and I promise I won’t keep you long. Not all forces be evil, not all worlds be dying. Some are there helping, others still thriving. We live in a world filled with conflict and pain, but there is a way out that we can attain. Stand up for what’s right, for what your heart knows to be good, never let them cut you down like fresh firewood. If we all ban together a mighty force we could be, but many’ve been blinded by the lies of this reality. For, the evil forces, hear me, know what would happen if the truth we all see, they’d know that we could not be stopped, that they’d be too weak, and the power in numbers of which I did speak. If we all could come together in peace and harmony, and love one another, the way it should be. The numbers we’d make, the music we’d create, we would become one giant ka-tet, all sharing one destiny, to overcome all of our differences set forth by powers that be. We would become the most powerful magic that there would ever be, we all, together as one, could lift the shroud and finally see the true reality. We could stop the corruption that plagues everything even that which we cannot see, balance would be restored to all that’s ever been, hear me well, “GUNSLINGERS TO ME!!!” Alas, until that day comes, remember these words keep them close to you, never forget what you know to be true. Never forget the face of your father, but always remember your brothers’, sisters’, and mother’s, of your sons’ and of your daughters’. Remember those who were close to you, but more importantly, “To thine own self be true.” And with these words I shall end my tale of demons and magic, of battles and of sipping graf cider ale. The Gunslinger Litany, when spoke true and proud turns into a spell, fit for the crown. It fills you with the fiery valor of the line of the Eld, of Arthur who forged those guns of his own blade he did meld the steel and iron and sandalwood grips, these be the guns that, to this very day, still hang, from Roland’s hips. Hear me well, fellow traveler’s and constant readers alike, and never forget! The Gunslinger Litany: I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye. I do not shoot with my hand; He who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind. I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart. I f you are not a diehard fan of The Dark Tower Series, then this all probably sounds like gibberish as it is infused with both Hi Sp...(read more)