Tag: First Selectman Cthulhu

Having the Relatives Over

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Farmer Cthulhu in His Fields

So, this week, in the middle of all the usual crises in Dunwich I got a visit from the First Selectman.  I was out in the fields when suddenly the shadow of a five-hundred-foot eldritch horror darkened my path.  Now tact is always the key survival trait when dealing with the First Selectman.  So, I greeted him respectfully and asked him to what I owed the honor of his attention.

He got right to the point.  His kin were having a visit to Dunwich and he wanted to make sure they had a nice stay.  Well, when Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth and Nyarlathotep come to town, they’re bound to be hungry from the interdimensional transit and will expect something substantial with which to restore the tissues.  So, Cthulhu wanted me to arrange the menu.  Since Dunwich is a farming town, I suggested cattle.  He gave me a shake of his cephalopodic head and reminded me that all three visitors were obligate anthropophages.  Well, that would make this a tricky assignment.  Even though I’m regularly fed up with most of my neighbors, I’m not really comfortable with them being eaten alive by monsters from beyond space.  And I especially don’t want to be the one feeding them to the hideous entities.  But neither did I want to be next on the menu for refusing.  So, what to do?

Well, it took a little work but by the creative lowering of our fairground fees I was able to attract and book the Democratic Socialists of America’s New England political rally for that weekend.  And wouldn’t you know Graham Plattner was the keynote speaker!  Now without a doubt an oysterman would provide just the tang of New England cuisine that the First Selectman’s family would find irresistible.  My plan is to let the rally reach a crescendo of communistic agitation and then use a couple of fire houses to marinate the crowd.  I gave the First Selectman his choice of sauces; classic Worcestershire cocktail, garlic butter, Bang Bang or a Remoulade.  Being old fashioned he went with the garlic butter.

I know, I know.  What kind of heartless monster would feed his fellow humans to creatures of cosmic horror.  I did think a while about it.  But then I remembered that Bernie Sanders and AOC were also supposed to be attending.  So that seemed to assuage my conscience.

But today I had new pangs of guilt.  I mean Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth and Nyarlathotep have never caused me any harm and here I was feeding them some of the most toxic creatures on the planet.  I mean, what if they got really sick.  It would be my fault.  At the very least maybe I should provide a photo of Plattner to the Great Old Ones and warn them that he probably had at least a sixty-proof rating and anyone with an alcohol problem should probably steer clear of the pugnacious oysterman and stick to something a little less spicy.  Well, anyway, the First Selectman seems pleased with the menu.  That’s something.

Lights, Camera, Cthulhu!

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I was thinking about trying to start a YouTube channel.  But I’m not sure if I can do it the way I want to.  My idea is to host an animated version of First Selectman Cthulhu expounding for five minutes about whatever was on my mind that week.  So, what this will require is some kind of free animation program that can be used to present the First Selectman speaking with a voice that would be appropriate for his status and personality.  It would also be useful if from time to time he could do more than just stand there and talk.  Possibly from time to time he could extract a human from a jar on his desk and swallow him.  And I’d like to be able to make those humans recognizable images of famous people like politicians, film actors and other pompous asses.

Now I realize this is easier said than done.  First of all, I have to develop an interesting persona for Cthulhu.  Then I have to be able to produce these videos at least once a week.  So that means they can’t take too long to produce and load onto YouTube.  Also, I have to learn what rules there are on YouTube that I’m not allowed to break.  I’ve seen that there are words like rape and murder that people cannot say on YouTube.  I assume that is because using them results in demonetization.  Now I wasn’t specifically trying to make money directly from YouTube.  I wanted to use it to grow an audience for my writing but maybe demonetization goes hand in hand with throttling visibility so I need to learn all about those aspects of the site.  If the restrictions are too limiting, I may not want to bother.  After all humor can be kind of cruel and cruel seems to be the mortal sin of the woke generation.

I’m sure this will take a long time to roll out because my plate is already too full now.  But I wanted to see if it’s doable.  My website has never grown to the point where I can reach thousands of people.  So, I figure I should try other platforms to see if I can expand my audience by several orders of magnitude.  Obviously, I won’t interest the really largest segments of the population but I have seen where people who are adjacent to things I’m interested in can reach a larger audience.  So, I figure I’ll try.  Hopefully it will be fun.

Maybe I’ll have Cthulhu interview other supernatural celebrities like Dracula or the ghost of Lindsey Graham.  Who knows, my version of Donald Trump might even show up.  After all Cthulhu is a Great Old One and Trump is always talking about “great.”  Or maybe he can do a cooking show where he shows how to make a jambalaya using Democrat and Republican politicians together.  The possibilities are endless.  But of course, all of this will be in bad taste so it may never see daylight on YouTube.

A Special Message from the First Selectman

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Good morning my fellow Dunwichians.  I come to you today with a heavy heart but a firm resolve.  I’m sure that all of you are aware of the enormous scandal that has unfolded over the allegations that have swirled around my old friend Graham Platner.  As you all know he and I go way back to the early days of the oyster farming craze of the twenty teens.  After all, as a cephalopod I naturally gravitate to shellfish eating pursuits.  And for many years we’ve made the rounds of the New England dive bar circuit.  Of course, he was entering them looking for drunk chicks and after he was done I would rip the building from the ground and swallow all of the organic contents.  But we were always very chummy.  He would show me his death’s head tattoo and I would show him my keychain with the skulls of anybody who didn’t get out of my way that week.  But we were always good pals.

But things have gone too far.  His disrespect for women has crossed a line.  Now, sure, I’ve had my moments of ribaldry with the fairer sex.  That time I crashed the Smith College orientation day and ate the whole freshman class in a swimming pool full of barbecue sauce was a bit “forward” of me but I maintained the highest levels of decorum, always keeping my pinky fingers outstretched and never talking while chewing.  And I did send an apology to the Dean of Students for neglecting to get a pool pass in advance.  But in my heart, I’ve always been a true gentleman and have never disrespected women.

So, it is my sad duty to condemn Graham for his awful behavior and shocking actions.  As the political head of the Dunwich Democratic Party, I must take the sad but necessary action of cancelling Graham Platner’s status as keynote speaker at the Dunwich Labor Day Jamboree.  And I must further demand the return of all the free passes to the rides and attractions that have already been mailed to him.  These passes represent a value of over eleven dollars and are much sought after by patrons of the event.  I would hope that Graham would have the decency of mailing the passes in time for their use at the Labor Day festivities.  He may have sunk into sexual moral depravity and criminality but at least let’s hope he hasn’t also become a selfish jerk too.

But as much as it is my sad duty to denounce Graham for his outrageous behavior, I feel it’s also necessary to extend the hope of redemption to this lost soul.  During the Middle Ages the Church of Rome was famous for their carefully calibrated table of alms linked to indulgences for various terrible sins.  In the same vein I’d like to offer Graham the chance to pay alms to Dunwich for the indulgence of his offences.  I think three tons of oysters would cover the moral lapses in question quite nicely.  If he could convey the alms to my refrigerator by the end of July, I think we could see him attending the Labor Day Jamboree as a “prodigal son” without too much squawking by the gals, in my estimation.  Think about it Graham.  I’m sure you’ll do the right thing, amigo.

Robert’s Rules of Order, Optional

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So we’re in the thick of this mid-term election cycle here in Dunwich.  And just as all over the country election holders that have strayed from what their party wants are being primaried out of their candidacies, so there have been several candidates who showed up at the Town Hall to take out papers to run against the First Selectmen.

Now this isn’t unprecedented.  Every few years someone moves into town and after experiencing just how “difficult” conditions are in town government, decides to throw his hat in the ring.  Now usually after seeing that First Selectman Cthulhu’s hat is thirty feet in diameter the incipient “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” type picks up his hat out of the ring and slinks back home.  But this year’s Mr. Smith (specifically a fellow named Ned Parson) was made of sterner stuff.  He paid his registration fee and showed up in front of Town Hall and challenged the First Selectman to a debate.

Cthulhu nodded his head and told his secretary to set up a public meeting on Sentinel Hill on the following Monday.  Sentinel Hill is convenient for meetings involving the First Selectman because if the humans are standing on the top of the hill and Cthulhu stands at the base, his head is only slightly above their level.  Also the acoustics are such that Cthulhu can usually hear mostly everything spoken by the humans.  And this is important.  Because if he can’t hear what’s being said, he tends to think he’s being disrespected and that usually ends poorly.

Last Monday it was cold and cloudy but there was a decent crowd, maybe fifty townspeople milling around the podium at the top of the hill.  And on the podium Ned Parson was dressed as Uncle Sam including the beard.  He was throwing buttons to the crowd that said “Be Led by Ned!!!” along with shooting off some confetti poppers.  He seemed confident, almost jubilant.  As the noon hour approached the First Selectman rumbled up to his station on the valley floor.  His facial expression was as usual unreadable but his breathing seemed to be a little noisier than usual.  There might also have been a certain grinding of his teeth audible but not very loudly.

At noon the Town Clerk climbed the podium and read the description of the event; “Debate for First Selectman Office.”  She added that Ned Parson had one the coin toss and would speak first.  Ned proceeded, “My fellow Dunwichians, I stand before you today prepared to finally convert this town from a weird dysfunctional outpost into a modern, progressive New England town.  For too long you’ve all suffered under the inefficient, corrupt and depressing administration of my opponent.  For too long you’ve been unable to get town services or even the comfort of knowing a constabulary stood ready during outbreaks of vampirism or lycanthropy to protect life and property.  I have the support of the local surrounding towns and I will bring our standards up to those of our neighbors.  I will not stand still.  I will move forward and I will make a big splash in this little place.”

The Town Clerk thanked Ned and then asked the First Selectman for his rebuttal.  Cthulhu reached down to the podium and closed his hand around Ned, winding up he threw a perfect strike.  Ned splatted against the rock face of Mt Bishop leaving a sizable red stain.  Cthulhu guffawed, “That little man was right, he made a big splash.”

Well, as debates go, it was to the point.

A Quaint Dunwich Custom

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In Dunwich the end of April is both an important time of the year agriculturally but also a time of great stress.  It is at this time that the great skunk cabbage harvest occurs.  Dunwich keeps ten thousand acres in skunk cabbage cultivation.  And depending on the phase of the moon sometime between the middle of April and the middle of May all of it must be harvested and processed for First Selectman Cthulhu’s Vernal Feast.  All of the cabbage is sent through an homogenizer and then mixed 1:1 with liquified cow manure and then pumped through a high-pressure hose directly into the First Selectman’s maw.  At one hundred gallons a minute this takes about six hours to transfer.

After that there is an eight-hour fermentation stage within the First Selectman’s alimentary canal after which this process produces a gaseous effluvium that exits at a very high flow rate at about a thousand standard cubic feet a second under considerable pressure.  Now this gas not only smells disgusting but it is as poisonous as phosgene so it must be mixed with air and immediately sent through a combustion nozzle.  The outlet gas still smells unbelievably bad but it is thus rendered non-lethal.

The combustion goes on for ten hours during which time the First Selectman likes to read an improving book or watch classic movies as entertainment.  It takes a crew of two hundred of the stoutest Dunwich men to complete the full process.  And it is an exhausting and psychologically scarring ordeal to say the least.  During this time most of the inhabitants of Dunwich vacate the town for about a week until the odor abates to a significant degree.

Over the years there have been attempts at Board of Selectmen Meetings to change the town bylaws to eliminate the “feast.”  Usually, the first Selectman eats whoever adds the motion to the agenda and the motion fails unanimously.  Usually this is some newcomer to town who doesn’t understand the nuance of having a Great Old One as a town official.

But there are some “advantages” to this process.  Rodents flee the town for at least two months after the ceremony and flies are so confused by the smell that they forget to eat and just weaken and die.  So, things are pretty vermin-free around town until autumn.  So, we’ve got that going for us.

There was a funny incident last year when a state environmental officer showed up and demanded that the skunk cabbage harvest be stopped because it was a native plant that was protected against commercial harvest.  He barged into the First Selectman’s office and threatened him with arrest.  Cthulhu seemed impressed with the officer’s courage and asked if he’d like to see the skunk cabbage field.  They walked over to the farm and then he planted the officer head first into the ground and applied a couple of gentle pats of his right hand to firmly smooth out his resting place.  And that was that.  Have a happy skunk cabbage feast everybody!

 

Farmer Cthulhu in His Fields

Various Public Relations

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So, Tuesday I have a meeting with my marketer to see how I can achieve more of my goals for the launch.  The book seems to be sustaining sales but I’m not satisfied with the visibility with respect to reviews and general profile.  As I’ve mentioned I’m going to find out just how large a giveaway I can expect to perform.  Now, I have no idea whether this makes any sense at all.  After all, as a tactic giving something away for free seems to be defeating the purpose of sales.  But my whole reason for writing this book, is to get other people to read it too.  And if you’re competing with literally millions of other books and some of them have multi-billion-dollar companies marketing them then it may take extreme methods to break out of obscurity and catch the public’s eye.  And then again, I may just be kidding myself.  But I think I’m very close to making a decision on the path forward.

And there’s not much time left before I’ll be overtaken by other responsibilities and projects.  First Selectman Cthulhu has selected me as his personal spokesman with responsibilities for communicating his agenda to both the human population of Dunwich and also the trans-dimensional realm of the Great Old Ones.  That’s right I’ll be updating his LinkedIn and TikTok pages.  Currently he’s asked me to edit out the use of words like crush, dismember, maim and devour in his recent communications.  He’s up for re-election and he needs to finesse his image quite a bit.  I’ve suggested he watch several of the recent Godzilla movies and figure out how to mimic the joie de vivre of that radioactive reptile who has managed to cultivate a laid back and avuncular style in the last few years.  I told him he might want to think about a facelift.  But then he reminded me that technically he really doesn’t have a face.  It’s more of a foot with eyes, mouth and tentacles.  Well, a rose by any other name.

On the home front, Mr. and Mrs. Mallard have returned to dismal puddle and seemed very satisfied with whatever slop has run into the swamp.  Also, a pair of wood ducks have also appeared but I notice they are much more skittish than the mallards.  Well, it takes all kinds.  So far, we haven’t seen any ducklings.  Time will tell.

And I’ve cut down all of the raspberry canes and put about five pounds of 10-10-10 fertilizer on the bed in anticipation of a bumper crop this year.  I’m hoping it will expand significantly beyond the current patch and eventually triple into the whole garden.  This is a matter of turning necessity into a virtue since nothing else seems to flourish besides raspberries in that soggy area.

The southern ice sheet has retreated back to the massive driveway pile which is now only three feet high.  At the current rate of retreat, I calculate it will disappear completely by Memorial Day.  At which point the last of it will end up in my drink cooler for that barbecue event.

Well, things are moving apace.  Excelsior!

Firehose of Alka Seltzer

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Farmer Cthulhu in His Fields

Thursday night we had our first frost here in Dunwich.  It was light and wasn’t a killing frost, at least not completely.  There were hoverflies and dragonflies and of course bees buzzing around today.  And the remaining flowers (wolfbane and Montauk daisies) are still more or less undamaged.  But the writing, as they say, is on the wall.  And wonder of wonders, Camera Girl asked me to turn the heating system back on!  Turning the heat on before November is usually me throwing in the towel and her mocking my delicacy.  Well, it really was cold last night.  But I think the real issue is that Princess Sack of Potatoes is staying over on Sunday and she wouldn’t want to be responsible for giving our granddaughter a cold.  And tonight, we had the first butternut squash chicken soup of the season.  Ah, what can I say?  There are compensations for the end of the warm weather.  Stuffed to the gills with such splendiferous food I am happy and content.

But the sad truth is that I am on the cusp of the dreaded evil times in Dunwich.  For the next four weeks I will be a veritable captive in the thrall of First Selectman Cthulhu and his evil regime of ghouls and bureaucrats.  I will be forced to do their bidding and many days I will be incommunicado.  This year it has been decided to make up the short fall in the town budget by having a raffle.  Everyone’s name goes in First Selectman Cthulhu’s size 666 hat and whichever hundred names he draws have to make a choice; pay one hundredth of the shortfall or be summarily eaten.  If they choose ingestion then we pick another name from the hat to make up the hundred.

My job is to gather the money from those paying or alternatively, providing a firehose pumping Alka Seltzer from a nearby pond whenever the appetizers start to make the First Selectman a little verklempt.  Mine is not an easy life.  But it pays the bills.  And the retirement benefits are pretty good.  I hope most people pay.  We didn’t account for the price of Alka Seltzer going up.  If we run low, I shudder to think how I’ll get through the collection, never mind the audit.  Well, no use whining.  On with the show.

So, this means there may be some dead air here at the site.  Of course I am making accommodations.  I’ve loaded up a month’s worth of “Quotes of the Day.”  Twenty-two of those will be by Ernie Pyle in his capacity as a WWII combat reporter.  Those will be starting in four days.  And I’ll be working tomorrow to put together a month’s worth of “Photos of the Day.”  So, there will certainly be content.  But the daily column may sometimes seem substandard, as if dictated by a drowning man.  Well, they say that some people work best under pressure.  Unfortunately, nobody’s ever said that about me.  So, there it is.

And here we are a couple of days after the Gaza agreement and the Middle East hasn’t reignited.  Dare I hope?  Stay tuned.

Maybe He Wasn’t Ready for His Own Show

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So, the First Selectman heard about Stephan Colbert losing his gig with the Late Show and somehow got the idea that maybe he could end up as a replacement on CBS.  He called me into his cave and said, “Listen Appetizer, I want you to get on the blower with Bill Paley and tell him I have a great idea for a late-night comedy show.  I’ll call it “Late Night Selections.”

I said, “Sir I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but William Paley died in 1990 at age 89.  And currently the parent company of CBS; Paramount Studios, is being acquired by another entertainment company Skydance Media and they have decided that the old-style late-night show is outdated and unprofitable.  They have not only not renewed Stephen Colbert’s contract; they have ended the whole Late Night production company.  They’ve effectively fired two hundred people in order to save $100 million.”

This outraged the First Selectman, “Who ever heard of anyone dying at 89.  Why I’m in excess of a trillion years old and I’ve never felt better in my life.  Sure, I eat healthy and stay away from fatty food like Mexicans and Italians but last time I saw Bill in 1948 he was the picture of health.  He was smoking a cigar, drinking a martini and pinching his secretary.  You don’t get much livelier than that!”

I interjected that notwithstanding his fond memories of Mr. Paley it was unfortunately true that new management was in place at the Tifanny Network and perhaps this was not the time for a new late-night show.  This got me nowhere and so yesterday I was assigned the task of putting together a stage for this dynamic new production.  As luck would have it, I read an ad for Colbert’s extra furniture going up for sale and picked it up for a song.  I think it was being sold hot by the disgruntled stage crew.

Well with a little alteration to allow the five hundred foot tall First Selectman to interact with human sized guests on the stage we had it up and running this morning in time to go through some try-outs.  As luck would have it Adam Schiff, Nancy Pelosi and Elizabeth Warren were all hoping to get some extra face time during Trump’s problems over the Epstein case so the First Selectman was able to book all three of them for his trial run.

Well, there were problems.  During the first segment Schiff began banging the drum about Donald Trump being a fascist.  Now the first Selectman used to be a close personal friend of Mussolini so he innocently said, “What’s wrong with being a fascist.”  Well, Schiff went ballistic and started going through his talking points about Trump assaulting women and being a felon and starting an insurrection and before you know it, he was calling the First Selectman a reactionary.  Well, this didn’t sit well with the First Selectman so he ate Schiff.  And when Pelosi and Warren saw this from the wings, they came running out screeching at a very high pitch.  As it happens the First Selectman is very sensitive to the particular frequency so in self-defense, he quieted them by eating them.

Well, the booking agency was very upset and said they couldn’t provide any more guests, except maybe AOC and Mamdani because nobody likes them anyway but the First Selectman said Puerto Rican and Middle Eastern food gave him the runs.  So, he’s given up on the whole show idea.  It’s all very sad.

The Blue States are Hurting

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Trump seems to have turned off the faucet that Biden was using to keep the blue states solvent.  A sense of panic is setting in and lots of towns are finding their voters are revolting against the budget increases that followed the end of the COVID gravy train (CARES Act).  All of the unfunded mandates that were paid for with that money now have to be paid for by the state and local governments.  And the local governments are squealing like stuck pigs because the state is hanging them out to dry.

 

In Dunwich it’s reaching a crisis.  There are grumblings against Cthulhu because he took credit for the CARES Act spending.  Now he’s being blamed for the higher taxes and another Great Old One; Azathoth is taking advantage of the outrage to challenge Cthulhu in the coming First Selectman race.  Azathoth’s campaign literature is branding his plan as MAGA (Make Azathoth Govern Again).

He’s handing out red hats and recently he’s started to take on a familiar orange tint.  His boldest campaign promise is that under his administration he would pledge not to eat anyone at public meetings or official town functions.  When asked for public comment by the local radio channel Cthulhu ate the reporter and walked out of the studio vowing to put a stop to all this “fake news” and misinformation.  He was quoted (from a distance) as saying, “This is madness.  If I can’t eat my constituency when they cross the line, then Dunwich would descend into anarchy and no one wants anarchy, except anarchists and I hate anarchists, even thought they taste really good.”

 

Outside of the Dunwich enclave the human (or somewhat human) local governments are probably going to have to tighten their belts a good deal.  Lots of services that everyone has come to think of as critical will be on the chopping block.  One of these is winter road treatment.  Salt, sand and other materials have surged in price this year and depleted supplies will likely bust the budgets of towns and cities if we have another normal winter like we had in 2024/25.  Likewise with neglected infrastructure and school costs.  The state has mandated very expensive special education requirements.  Providing these mandated services may mean that the rest of the students will lose out on curriculum and services like library and arts classes.

It’s believed by the local governments that if these services are curtailed that voters will agree to add them back into the budget.  But from what I’ve heard and seen this isn’t the case.  A revolt is going on and the angry voters in New England may finally have become fed up with the feckless spending that their politicians routinely legislate.  The next few weeks are going to be instructive as these towns and cities struggle to resolve the impasse that has developed.  The budgets are overdue and without a budget they can’t begin signing contracts and paying salaries.

I think I’ll go to Azathoth’s July rally.  I hear he dances a mean YMCA.

The Mill Rate

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It’s once again time in Dunwich to produce the town budget.  And even though it’s a slightly unusual place, we still have to go through the whole public hearing thing with the First Selectman leading the proceedings and calling for the vote.  Of course, when the budget is rejected, it always leads to “problems.”

Last year when First Selectman Cthulhu asked for a show of hands on the nays it was very noticeable when one of the nay sayers was snatched off her feet by that irascible public servant and crunched and swallowed.  This was regrettable but it was noted that several nay voters seemed to change their mind in mid-count.  So, there is a history of gentle persuasion being brought to bear at these meetings.  That probably explains why over the years the voting population has progressively skewed pro-budget.

And that’s fine.  We really do need to be flexible when it comes to the finances.  With the COVID funds now completely dried up and New England state budgets straining under the weight of “sanctuary guests” from the third world filling residences and hospitals we can no longer expect the state to fund all the various mandates that they seem to invent by the hour.

Of course, Cthulhu has taken a decidedly idiosyncratic policy twist to the question of sanctuary guests.  He has been housing all of them in his own residence.  Funny thing is none of them have reappeared.  Strange kind of sanctuary.

But it is important that we keep our spirits up when the question of the “mill rate” surfaces.  In Dunwich what that refers to is the rate at which Bishop’s Mill is sinking into the swamp.  This year it was determined by the town engineer that it was sinking at a rate of two inches a day.  Now this doesn’t sound so bad but by the end of March the main entrance was entirely submerged and so the various flour products were being delivered to the customers by ejection from the third story window.  Which is fine except that a couple of times they crushed some of the customers.

This year the budget has included a special charge for the First Selectman’s rigging enterprise to raise and relocate Bishop’s Mill to higher ground.  Now this was done once before.  And it didn’t go completely without a hitch.  The mill broke up in the Great Old One’s claws and when Gerontius Bishop complained he sort of fell into the First Selectman’s mouth and sort of got eaten.  Kind of.

To obviate the same kind of situation the Bishop family has agreed to pay a special fee for extra reinforcement of the structure to allow for any miscalculations.  But the town has agreed to defray some of this cost and thus the Budget debate.  The estimate for this town expense by the riggers (the First Selectman) is $2,500,000.  Yeah, that’s a lot.

So as a kind of compromise action a few of us got together yesterday and went down to Bishop’s Mill and soaked it with gasoline and burned it down.  The First Selectman, who is also the acting fire chief of the volunteer force, arrived at the scene about twenty minutes after the flames had guttered out at the water line.  He announced that the rigging operation would obviously no longer be needed but that the contract would still be honored and the budget would proceed on the same basis.  He really is a very determined fellow.  And he is incredibly “persuasive.”

You know, you really learn how to roll with the punches in Dunwich.  You really do.