26MAR2023 – The Week Begins

Christmas Cooking, Sony A7 III, Sony 90mm f\2.8 macro lens

The weekend was replete with good food, happy visitors and talk.  We heard stories about the really old days, over a century ago when our ancestors came to this country and made their fortune and then lost it and then started over again.  It was exciting, pathetic, sad, funny and very familiar.  Familiar because it’s family.  And we heard tidings of some old friends and relatives who are ailing.  But as we age there will always be more of that.  But there were tidings of the next generations venturing out into the world.  That’s always a necessary and welcome development.  And we made plans for upcoming gatherings.  Easter is almost upon us and we’ll be hosting the family which is great.

And now here we are beginning a new week.  Chaos reigns supreme in Dunwich and I expect pandemonium when I arrive at work tomorrow.  But the world we live in is in a permanently catastrophic state and if no other good thing has come of this shambolic existence, it’s that we’ve become less delicate.  Anything less than a megaton of destruction is routinely just shrugged off as “more of the same.”  Well, good.  We’ll continue on and deal with these occurrences, one catastrophe at a time.  Who knows maybe they’ll run out of plagues eventually and we’ll come out on the other side.

And at least there is a bit of humor to the whole thing.  Even the outside world is starting to catch on to just how pathetic Joe Biden and his gang of losers really are.  Even the Saudis, who have never been known for their love of humor have joined in the act.  Saudi tv has a skit where Biden and Harris look-alikes wander around a political soundstage hopelessly lost and stupid.  Imagine when even stone age people like the former headhunters of the Amazon jungles and the New Guinea highlands join in the fun.  Maybe it could become a meme when representatives of every race and ethnicity compete on Rumble to mock Dementia Joe and Magic Bus Kamala.  That would be a true moment of solidarity for the whole human race.  It chokes you up just thinking of it.

But seriously, this is going to go on for a good long time.  As a very smart man said long ago there is a lot of ruin in a nation.  Before the US is degraded to a level where people will do anything about it, it will have to get a lot worse.  So, I intend to do my best to take care of those I love and try somehow to make my immediate surroundings a little less horrible.  And when I have the time, I’ll put up some of my scribblings here as moral support for folks like me.  If you have something to share leave it in the comments and if you have something longer, you’d like to see posted send it to me at the e-mail address listed or just say so in the comments and if it’s something I can support I’ll probably post it up.

Things are a lot worse than they used to be.  But one thing has improved.  We now know the truth about the country we live in.  Tens of millions of people now know that what we were told was a big lie.  And that is a powerful thing.  And I don’t know how, but I’m pretty sure that one day that is going to have a tremendous impact on some critical moment in our history.  A country is made of more than just banks and bureaucracies.  I think there is a component that depends on the trust of people.  And this country has lost that.  It was that characteristic called American exceptionalism.  It was belief in ourselves as being part of something remarkable.  Now we know that’s not true.  And pretty soon the rest of the world is going to find out too.  The day will come when one of Joe Biden’s gang is going to ask us for help and he’s going to get

… nothing.

20MAR2023 – Spring Equinox – The Canada War

A work day and a writing day.  Having added a couple of thousand words to my story I felt extremely virtuous.  So, I looked at the headlines to see what I had missed.  Yikes!

What I saw was plenty of panic over the bank failures and the subsequent actions of the Fed and the other central banks.  The narrative is that the Fed and the regulators are going to thread the needle by raising the prime rate enough to keep inflation from igniting but save the banks from imploding by trading their underwater bonds for new ones.  Now of course the bond swaps will be wildly inflationary but the thought is if we just keep pumping cash into the banks it will keep the economy from imploding.  What could go wrong with that?  I’m thinking of converting all my assets into Doritos, the only known commodity that never loses its value and that all people recognize as cash.

Meanwhile the MSM is beginning to get interested in the reports of the Biden family receiving Chinese influence peddling payments, and even CNN admitting on the air that “this doesn’t look good.”  So, what can Mumbley Joe do?  Well, he says it ain’t so.  But nobody believes that.  So, he starts yelling about “assault weapons.”  But nobody even blinks an eye anymore at that ploy.  So, what’s a grifter to do?  I assume he’ll try to wag the dog.  He’s wanted to get the Russian oil and gas but it turns out the Russians have guns and aren’t afraid of rainbow flag waving soldiers.  Plus, it turns out they still have those nukes.  Not good.

My guess is he’ll try for a safe war.  Maybe he’ll invade Canada.  They’ve got oil and gas just like the Russians but no nukes and they’re kind of light in the loafers, especially that Trudeau guy.

I mean, it’s a great idea.  This will be easier than that famous standoff with Corn Pop.  And he could look tough while doing it.  All it needs is a cool name like Operation Desert Storm had.  Maybe Operation Arctic Blast or Operation Great White North or Hey Ya Hosers!  And this would give General Milly Vanilly a chance to actually win at something.  All he’d have to do is have his tranny division roll into Ottawa and de-pants Trudeau and demand he surrender to the obvious justice of a (nominally) heterosexual man groveling before transgender soldiers demanding his country relinquish their harmful fossil fuels to a higher power.

It makes sense to me.  It can be a form of reparations for the slaves that the white people of Canada never got around to having but probably thought about.  Maybe Gavin Newsom could get involved.  His state is looking for $65 billion dollars for reparations and right now the Silicon Valley guys are kind of tapped out.  Maybe Joe can give him a cut of the plunder from the Canada war.

You know I really like the idea of the Canada war.  We can’t lose (probably) and we can sell off parts of Canada to the rest of the world which will give us enough money to keep our economy afloat long enough to get Joe Biden re-elected in 2024.  No, this is good.  This is the real thing.  I’ve got to call up Biden and get his people working on this.  I wonder what my cut should be?  Ten percent?

08MAR2023 – Dunwich Complainer – Retail Democracy

Cthulhu

This week Dunwich will celebrate old style New England democracy at its most authentic.  We’re going to have a referendum.  Back in 1653 the Town Elders codified a law that banned witch burning on every day but Monday.  The intent was that this would provide the maximum time before Sunday for the smell to dissipate.  The puritans were deeply religious folk and they feared to offend the Lord by allowing burnt witch funk to permeate their worship.

Fast forward three hundred some odd years later and Dunwich is a much less pious place.  And witch burning is big business.  Having an inhabitant declared a witch and burned at the stake is the town’s most lucrative revenue stream.  You see, the statute declares that the possessions, real and personal, of the convicted witch are forfeited to the town and can then be sold at auction.  Of course, the successful accuser of the witch stands to gain a 10% commission from the proceeds of the sale, tax free.  So, the trials are stacked up like planes circling Arkham airport.

And that’s the problem.  Whereas the trials are getting banged out day in and day out, the burnings are way, way behind.  The municipal witch pit can only accommodate fifteen burnings a week.  So, there are currently twelve hundred witches cooling their heels waiting for stake time.  Now the witches aren’t complaining.  They’re willing to wait forever to be honest.  But the town budget is a mess.  First Selectman Cthulhu has already spent all the money that the backlog represents on aromatic bath salts.  He’s a big proponent of the long languid soak in a tub.  Although in his case the tub is reworked municipal reservoir.  But suffice it to say that requires an awful lot of bath salts.  And now the bath salt merchandisers refuse to float him any more credit until he squares his accounts.

Well, he’s finally lost his patience and has threatened to eat everyone in town alphabetically unless a referendum repeals the “Monday only” part of the witch burning law right away.  And so, we’re set to vote this week.  We’ve set up the “no electioneering” line 75 feet from the polling area as state law requires but being hundreds of feet tall Cthulhu has threatened to toe the line but lean his head through the gymnasium skylight to watch over the voting and eat anyone who votes no on the petition.  Last we heard; the poll workers say there’s nothing in the handbook to forbid this activity.  This seems a little suspect to me but I know the First Selectman is a fairly persuasive character when up close and personal.

The Dunwich electorate is a feisty group.  Several of our oldest and most religious citizens have openly declared that they will vote no.  To ensure that nothing tragic befalls us the Town Clerk has decided to call in Dominion to provide the ballot reading machines, and in that way, fortify democracy or at least prevent us all from being eaten alphabetically.

Well, I’m a little sad to see the old ways discarded one by one.  It will certainly change the character of the town to have acrid black witch smoke wafting around town twenty-four seven.  It’s been proposed to replace the witch burning pit with a modern natural gas fired witch kiln with a two-hundred-and-fifty-foot stack to send the smoke down wind to Arkham.  With that kind of automation, the danger will be that we may completely depopulate the town in a couple of months.

And I guess that’s the way of progress.  But I’ll miss the days when a man could bring his family to the witch burning pit and get good seats from which to hiss at the old crones and maybe even chuck a rock or two at them.

Well, we have to be realistic and live in the present.

Biden Gets A Clean Bill of Health by Coroner

My favorite line, “With a fresh injection of formaldehyde and some makeup, he looks like he’s still with us! Just look at him — so peaceful. It looks like he’s just sleeping!”

Less believable is this report.

Yeah, I don’t buy it.

Dramatic Footage of the Military Confronting UFO Over Lake Huron

Below is the amazing flight camera video of the successful defense of Lake Huron by our pilots.

When the first missile failed to strike the target the squadron leader said he, “wanted another shot at it..”  The rest is history.  What wasn’t revealed in the press conference was that after the aliens fired their primary weapon and obliterated the White House, President Biden’s righteous anger prompted him to take the squadron leader role of the attacking F-16s that took down the aliens.  Few people know that in addition to being a long haul trucker Biden is also a Top Gun fighter pilot.  No joke!

Renewable Energy Comes to Dunwich

The Town of Dunwich was recently ordered by the Colony of Massachusetts Bay to show progress in eliminating the production of greenhouse gases by switching over to renewable energy sources.  As the only engineer in town, or for that matter, the only person familiar with the decimal point among the denizens of this benighted hellhole I was ordered by First Selectman Cthulhu to, “make that happen.”  And since, as in all things ordered by Cthulhu, the penalty for failure is being eaten alive by a 100-foot-high squid-headed flying dragon, I got to work right smartly.

What I discovered was that currently 100% of our electrical energy supply is generated by burning sperm whale oil.  It’s a little known fact that Dunwich, along with certain Inuit tribes is  allowed under treaty to hunt sperm whales and since the market for whale products long ago dried up we utilized the carcasses as a source of fuel.  The carcasses are hauled up on the shore and trucked to the power plant where the oil is drained off.  Then the meat is turned into Dunwich’s world-famous blubber chowder.  And the bones are packaged for resale to Dunwich’s werewolf (or for the politically correct term, lycanthrope) population.

I contacted the DEP to see if this treaty allowed for our whale oil to be grandfathered in as a green energy equivalent but, alas, there was a whale-lover on the staff there so, no soap.  I began to get panicky so I called in a consultant to see what other towns were doing.  The consultant described the latest scams that currently passed for “green” energy.  The favorite was “converting” natural gas to hydrogen to use in a fuel cell.  After looking at the material balance I could see that this process produces almost the same amount of carbon dioxide as combustion does.  When I questioned him about this inconsistency, he waved his hands around for a few minutes while claiming that the science was settled.  Anyway, the price tag for the installation was so high I realized there was no way we could switch over to this particular scam.

I asked him if he had a cheaper scam that we could invest in.  He looked disappointed.  I guess most of his clients aren’t as primitive and poor as Dunwich.  Finally after dejectedly checking through his inventory he noted that he had several generators that were reclaimed from some wind turbines that had fallen down and been carted away as scrap.  He could let us have those for a pittance.  Out of desperation and to buy time I ordered the parts and sent him on his way.

Then I had an inspiration.  We had some old caterpillar treads left over from some heavy machinery that had broken down and some other odds and ends.  I had the maintenance crew rig these up into a gigantic treadmill and hook it up to the generators.  I had the highway crew dig a pit out near the bicycle path that runs through the scenic area of the ghoul haunted forest.  And I had them catch and imprison the biggest shoggoth they could find in town.  It was a big, ugly, smelly, hungry one.  I think we might have lost a couple of the crew that caught it.  Oh well.

The next part of the plan was the good part.  Along the side of the bicycle path, I put a sign leading over to the pit that said “Contribute to Green Energy.”  Over the pit I had built a sound-proofed shed with a revolving door that led into a dark room with a pit trap.  When someone falls into the pit it raises a panel that separated the shoggoth from its dinner.  Once the shoggoth starts moving toward the victim it turns the caterpillar track and begins powering the generator.  As long as the green power enthusiast is able to run on this treadmill and stay ahead, the shoggoth continues to pursue.  But when the friend of Gaia tires, the shoggoth will get its lunch and the treadmill will stop and the power will go out in town.

Of course, this is a problem.  I’ve come up with some improvements.  To improve the reliability, we now run a bicycle race daily in town.  And I’ve hooked up a battery system as a form of uninterruptible power supply (UPS) for the town between shoggoth meals.  But uninterruptible is probably an overenthusiastic claim.

But the important thing is the First Selectman is pleased.  He’s grown fond of the project and has named the shoggoth Tesla.  He’s tasked me with setting up a similar treadmill for his personal use.  He says he needs the exercise and donating some energy to the town is patriotic.  Also, the town is making a nice profit reselling abandoned bicycles found along the road.

Who knew going green would be this much fun.

Dunwich in the Depths of a Non-Winter

Swamp in Fall 2

Here we are at the brink of February and Dunwich looks like early December.  There’s no snow cover and the ground is soggy with all the rainfall.  There are serious consequences from this warm weather.  Mange has broken out among various species.  Werewolves, zombies and the Mi-Go (those winged fungoid crustacean creatures) have all been observed uncontrollably scratching themselves against tree trunks to relieve the itching.  And the smell from these festering wounds has made the forested areas around the swamps almost unendurable for residents there.  First Selectman Cthulhu complains that tourism is way off and he blames it on this blight.  I don’t know.  I think it could be a result of the new advertising slogan they came up with.  I mean, “Dunwich, smell the history” might need some work.

Luckily for me I took the precaution of planting the perimeter of my property with wolfsbane a year or two back and the only local inhabitant that hasn’t fled is a shoggoth that lives under the rock overhang at the edge of the swamp.  He’s a really old and decrepit example of the species and he probably would have already succumbed to the infection if Camera Girl hadn’t started putting out scraps for it to subsist on.

As is her habit, she has sort of adopted it and calls it by a pet name, shoggy, which I find annoying.  I’ve explained many times that it is a loathsome man-eating nightmare, the very sight of which can shatter the sanity of any human being.  She claims it just needs scratching under the chin (wherever that is), some warm blankets and leftover fried chicken to make it a “boopa.”  Women are mostly insane.  I’ve resorted to poisoning the chicken but all that accomplished was to make it thirsty.  It drank down the pond and swelled up to a hundred times its original size.  It’s about the size of a city block and about three hundred feet tall.  It seems to have either the hiccups or some kind of rhythmic flatulence.

Next Friday is supposed to be a quick freeze.  Forecasts call for nighttime temperatures dipping down to minus fifteen Fahrenheit.  I believe that after absorbing that much water the shoggoth will freeze solid overnight.  My plan is to rent one of those construction vehicles with the industrial strength jack hammer attached to a robotic arm and use it to chop up the shoggoth into bite size chunks.  I figure I can probably transport them to a fishing port and sell it as chum to the commercial fishermen.  Anyway, that’s the plan.

With the cold weather coming I expect the more traditional winter activities to resume.  Once Lake Bishop freezes the annual ice fishing derby will be announced and all experienced fishermen will partake in the night before drinking binge to shore up their nerve for the event.  And whoever draws the short straw that morning will need every bit of that alcohol to get the nerve to make the run across the ice.  After all, running across a half mile of open ice dressed as a giant “kivver” with the First Selectman coming after you from under the ice with only a ten second head start is pretty heady stuff.

Last year Tanner Featherstone came within twenty feet of the shore and maybe three seconds of winning the contest and the $100 Amazon gift card.  Not to mention keeping his life.  It’s this kind of town-spirit and bone-headed stupidity that keeps this amazing tradition going despite the unbroken history of failure and the terrifying sight of a man being eaten alive by a one-hundred-foot-tall squid-headed flying dragon.  The screams and the sound of the crunching bones really makes you think.

Well anyway.  I’ve got to do some research on that whole jack hammer rental thing.  Busy, busy, busy.  I hope your winter is going well and I’ll be back soon to describe what looks like an early spring and the return of the “colour out of space” to the local foliage.  Ah those unearthly colors.  They make Dunwich the garden spot it is.