According To Hoyt Taking over the world and leaving it ruthlessly alone

Time 2020-11-03 03:03:42

Web Name: According To Hoyt Taking over the world and leaving it ruthlessly alone

WebSite: http://accordingtohoyt.com

ID:103055

Keywords:

Taking,over,the,

Description:

I can tell the people holding back and deciding not to vote or to vote for Biden because Trump is Uncouth and mean tweets and not presidential that they re idiots. But they won t believe me. They ll believe it later, when the boot is on their neck, and they re starving. Or maybe not, because the media will tell them it is the fault of someone else, some evil person who did something to them to prevent the paradise of free money and not having to work, and everyone loving everyone else from coming about. I ve seen it before. In Portugal it was saboteurs and hoarders when things got bad. And people believed. The same people who believe that Biden is kindly uncle Joe who will make everything great. For my entire adult life every Republican president has been literally Hitler even though since Reagan at least they ve been for reducing government reach, allowing for more individual rights, and treating people the same regardless of race. So, you know, the opposite of literally Hitler.Okay, Russian interference was insane here, originating in a Hilary Clinton favor from the Russians to discredit her opponent Donald Trump. We KNOW this. It s been proven. It s only the deep rot of our investigative agencies that has prevented arrests from being made before the election. Having cooperated with Obama and his administration and speaking of shredding the constitution to confound and destroy Trump s presidency itself, those agencies now thing helping Biden win is part of helping their own survival. Besides, every communist regime needs their own secret police, and these people are in line. No more sentimental nonsense about individual rights. They ll be able to do onto you, until the end of time. They like that.It doesn t matter that Russia was much closer to the Obama administration who, after all, were more flexible. And it doesn t matter that Putin endorsed Biden. And it doesn t matter It s all Russia. And when Biden turns on a dime and talks about our friends, the Russians, they ll turn too, and forget everything.Once that train is set in motion and people can t call it back, the people who have the power will work to concentrate more power and more money into their hands. What they call it, and the justification they use to stomp on the human face is irrelevant. Those with power end up very very rich, and the rest of the people end up starving. Until it eventually all collapses.As for why I think this is what the left proposes to do to America? It starts with removing our ability to protest what they do to us, to defend ourselves from false charges, or even to demand reward for our labor, and decry injustices done to us. All of which is already being done through platforms and press aligned with the left and working to bring on this regime.Also neither Biden or the functioning brain of the two will deny they want to open the borders, pack the courts, abolish the police (except THEIR police, of course), lock the populace down to defend us from a virus (that s not how viruses work, but they won t tell people that) forbid gas-powered vehicles, and generally work to destroy our economy, so they can squat, fat and poisonous above the ruins of our nation.I could I have shouted that from the rooftops. It doesn t matter. even people on our side don t realize that this time, this once, the left HAS to play for all the chips. Even on our side people think this is just a game, and if they just sit this one out to punish Trump for mean tweets or whatever, they can vote the way they want the next election, and nothing much bad will happen in the interim.The problem is the left are cornered rats. Not only is the tech going against them, with communications ever more distributed (despite their dominance of platforms) but during Trump s presidency their ineptness and rage has revealed more about how they work than the people have ever known before.For now, their captive media is holding back the full deluge of their horrible actions from the public. To do it, they only had to destroy the economy and put us all under house arrest, which is an extreme measure and also a measure of their desperation.And incompetent as they are, they know THEY KNOW they must win. While our side thinks it s politics as usual.So all I can say is this, should we not receive as a miracle, from almighty G-d that we beat the margin of fraud and all the fail-safe machinations already in place for our destruction, remember:Even in the depths of tyranny people resist. Sometimes it means dying, sometimes it means working in small and patient ways.Even if there s no hope in our life time, teach the children well and send them forth. Ideas are hard to kill. They have no bodies of their own.Even if we must burn, remember the falling star. It burns most brightly as it is destroyed.And generations yet unborn will read of it and marvel, and wonder and know that humans, no matter where and how they live, are not just evil and dark, and made to live in mud and vileness.If we must burn, my friends, burn brightly. Make such a fire in the night that it will illuminate the human mind forever.*Note these are books sent to us by readers/frequenters of this blog.  Our bringing them to your attention does not imply that we’ve read them and/or endorse them, unless we specifically say so.  As with all such purchases, we recommend you download a sample and make sure it’s to your taste.  If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. I ALSO WISH TO REMIND OUR READERS THAT IF THEY WANT TO TIP THE BLOGGER WITHOUT SPENDING EXTRA MONEY, CLICKING TO AMAZON THROUGH ONE OF THE BOOK LINKS ON THE RIGHT, WILL GIVE US SOME AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR PURCHASES MADE IN THE NEXT 24HOURS, OR UNTIL YOU CLICK ANOTHER ASSOCIATE’S LINK. PLEASE CONSIDER CLICKING THROUGH ONE OF THOSE LINKS BEFORE SEARCHING FOR THAT SHED, BIG SCREEN TV, GAMING COMPUTER OR CONSERVATORY YOU WISH TO BUY. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*Political upheavals can be a very dangerous time, especially when ideologies are as far apart as they are now. Divided we Fall presents one possible future, one where powerful forces act behind the scenes to effect the change they ve wished to create for decades, and have largely been held back. What happens when a nation is sharply divided, anarchistic forces allowed to run wild, and the police are held at bay or even defunded? Add in a presidential assassination, and you have all the potential for a world changing situation. In this world, Divided we Fall.A collection of talented veteran bestselling authors and several new ones join together to paint a picture of the post 2020 election that none of us hope to see come about. But the more we watch events unfold, the more anything seems possible.(*MY story involves the founding of the USAian religion. SAH)An ancestor s folly, stealing from a dead wizard, left them all turning to crows daily and bitterly attacking any of their number who stole from the dead.Yet a dying wizard may hold the key of escape. . . .The ghouls, wraiths, and ghosties had not been part of the job description. Or maybe they had, just not in so many words. The neatly printed sign next to the ornate gates had simply read “Cemetery groundskeeper and caretaker needed. Inquire within. Now Chloe s trying to calm an irascible ghoul, help a lost ghost find his way back to his grave, and get the mowing done before she needs to break out the bush hog instead… Who knew being a groundskeeper meant trying to keep things in the ground?So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.It was Halloween night and there was a horse at my door. Or at least a horse s head. And he was carrying a basket of candy. And he stood six feet tall, wore a wine colored sweater, artistically ripped jeans and expensive tennis shoes.I sighed and started to close the door, and the horse said, No, Eileen, listen. He lifted the basket, I brought candy for Tori and Talon. I sighed again. I hadn t seen Paul in six months. The lawyers had almost made everything neat and ready for signing. Seeing him at the door hurt. I didn t want it to hurt. On the other hand, really, he had never been abusive or done anything that justified keeping him away from the twins. Particularly on Halloween.On yet the other hand, they d been asking where dad was. Particularly since they couldn t trick or treat, not really. Not like they were used to in the suburbs. It s not that there was was no trick or treat in rural areas, but as cold as it was, and with snow falling, I wasn t about to drive them the half a mile to the next neighbor and then the mile to the neighbor after that and so on. Besides the fact that the rural road was not paved, and there was a significant fall off on either side. How did you get my address? I asked. Not that I d ever expected Paul to stalk me, but for various reasons, including being a woman living alone with two small children, I d never publicized my address and the farm was bought under a corporate name, of which I was main holder, with shares devolving to Tori and Talon if something happened to me.He hesitated. Don t tell me how I could see. There was this expelled little puff of breath, and he shuffled his weight from foot to foot just a little, then he huffed, reached up and pulled off the horse s head, to reveal an embarrassed face. Also, ridiculous. His reddish hair was all on end. And he d lost weight. And not in a good way. He opened his mouth, closed it. My mom gave it to me. I almost asked him if he was wearing the wrong part of his horse s costume. His mom had died three months ago. But Paul had been very close to his mom, and he wouldn t say that as a joke.I made a face. Okay, but you come in, you give them the candy, you talk a little and you leave, understood? And then it s every other weekend, and I ll bring them to you, okay? He nodded. It was less a nod and more just moving his head down fast, then up again. You moved to the middle of nowhere, he said. Kind of had to. To do something I could do from home that would feed the kids. Besides the school here is great. I closed the door behind him, and he put the horse s head on the hat tree in the entrance.It reminded me of other times. Like when he d come into our suburban condo, at this time of year, and removed hat and coat, and the kids would rush to him.We d come to the end of the hallway, and he hesitated. To the right, I said. They re in the kitchen, coloring while I make dinner. He did that almost-nod again, and walked to the right, where the stub of hallway opened up into a vast eat in kitchen with a big wood stove. It was warm and well lit and the kids were working so hard at their coloring books they didn t even look up.Until Falada came charging in, of course. They say geese are sometimes used as guard dogs. I believe it. She came charging at Paul s legs, head down and honking, like she thought he meant to take her eggs. Which she probably did think. Whoa, I said, stepping out in front of Paul. Whoa, Falada, easy, it s a friend. She stopped, confused, because I was her safe person, and therefore I wouldn t be protecting a bad person. Her head turned up, her beady eyes focused on us, and she made a weird honking sound that was probably a swear word in goose. Then she waddled back to the basket, by the dinner table.And then the twins were on him. I remember it like a slow motion sequence. First Talon saw him and jumped up, Dad! and then Tori. And then they were all over him, clambering up. He dropped the basket, and took them, one in each arm, saying things like Whoa, in the same tone I d used for Falada.The kids were telling him about the trunk or treat, in a big jumble. And about the school. And how this house had coops in the back where we kept the geese, and why Falada was in the kitchen. He walked to the table with the twins one in each arm, and somehow managed to peel them off and onto their chairs, and admired the Halloween princess coloring book my mom had sent Tori. Think a little girl in various gowns, surrounded by pumpkins and bats and black cats. Talon, bigger and more introverted than his sister waited silently to show his dad his own Halloween Avenger book. Yeah, super-hero like character, pumpkins and bats and such. Talon colored it in tiny minute strokes always within the lines, and was starting to work on shading. Tori, on the other hand just colored really big, nevermind the lines and as long as there was plenty of pink and sparkly crayons, she was fine.She was also pushy and obnoxiously loud, and as her mom I say that with love, interrupting Talon s explanation of why he d used a darker color in the background with a shout of Look, dad, she s got sparkles on her cloak and shoving her little face forward, with a big gapetoothed smile.Paul said, I brought you candy, almost as an afterthought, pushing the little basket into the middle of the table. Even from where I was I could see it was about half Pixie sticks which were Tori s most favorite thing ever.The kids looked at it, and then away, and continued chattering at Paul. He had this big stupid smile on his face.I couldn t tell him to leave. I was going to have to invite him to dinner. The kids really had missed him. I didn t want to think about that. The papers were almost ready. And it s not like I d just decided to leave him, okay? He had been dating the nanny. While married to me. But the kids were his, and I took one of those deep breaths that seem to never end, and turned back to cook. After a while the kids settled down a little, and Tori went to get their favorite book the big, illustrated fairytale book Paul had bought them for Christmas last year and asked Paul to read. I didn t actually remember his ever reading to the kids.Okay, sure, he might have. It s just that with the kids being small and both of us having had demanding jobs, we d tried to take turns staying home with them when the other was working over time. We had a nanny for the daytime, and then after work, one or the other of us stayed home. It occurred to me, suddenly, that this was a stupid way to run a marriage. But They were pressed on each side of him, while he read. He was doing voices. I took the big tray of meatballs out of the oven. I d planned on two meals from it, but of course, with a man at the table . So, I did two packages of spaghetti and started making the marinara.Timing worked out right. Paul had just finished The Goose Girl, when I said, Tori, silverware, Talon plates. Of course. I tried to remember when the last time had been we d eaten together. I d moved out six months ago, and before that Talon was reaching for the step stool when Paul picked him up and reached him to the upper cupboard for the plates. He grinned his own gap-toothed smile, Thanks, dad. Had he got quieter these last six months? He d never been garrulous, mind you, but Dinner was loud and boisterous as I didn t remember it ever being, and Paul was funny, and kept making voices, including giving Falada a voice, when the goose made soft sounds, in her sleep on the eggs. How many eggs is she hatching? he asked. And couldn t you have used an incubator. Sure, I said. But incubators are Well, you have to turn the eggs at the right time, and it s more work for a single person, who is busy with other stuff, you know. This way Falada does it. It s just inconvenient for her to become broody in October, and just before the big snow storm. I shrugged. Some critters are mixed up, you know? Anyway, I was about ready to consign her to the thanksgiving oven, when lo and behold, I found she d been hiding eggs and had a clutch and was sitting on them. All the other geese hatched in Spring, they re full grown, so I brought her indoors. She s a pretty good guard dog. He didn t say it seemed strange to him, considering how close to Denver we used to live. Tori asked him about bats no, I don t know why, my daughter was like that and eventually Talon told him a long and complicated story about the bat cave, at the end of our property.After a while, food was eaten and the kids were starting to nod off, with sauce all over their faces. To my surprise, it was Paul who said, Go wash up, and into jammies, okay? I ll come and tuck you in when you re ready. I started putting away the leftovers, and he started to pile the dishes by the sink. I was going through her things, he said. You know, my sister already went through, but she asked me to go to the folk s place and see if there was anything I wanted to keep. So, I took the day off yesterday and went to do that I fell asleep on the sofa. There really wasn t much, by the way, though I found some books Anyway, I fell asleep on the sofa, and I dreamed she was giving me a royal talking to. He paused. I guess because I had talked to the lawyer earlier, and he said it would be ready to sign on Monday. You know. So, I fell asleep, and she said I should talk to you. She said I d been miserable, and I should talk to you or Or I d never forgive myself. And the kids might never forgive us. And I said I didn t know how to talk to you, I didn t even know your phone number. So she said look at the calendar. So I went and looked. And she d written your address down. I hadn t ever given my mother in law my address. But lying wasn t one of Paul s abilities. No, seriously. That was part of the reason I d left. I d asked him if he loved Iris, and he d just got all red and tongue tied. Remembering that put pepper in my voice as I said, And what does Iris think of that? He looked startled. I have no idea. I haven t seen her since you moved out. He paused. Well, since the month you and the kids moved out. Took about a month. We went for coffee, a couple of times, and I took her to dinner, but Go to a concert. Go to a movie. Stuff like that. I just . I didn t care that much. He chewed the inside of his face. I knew that expression. He used to do that in college, when he was trying to figure something out. I thought I was. Turns out it was just she was the adult companionship around, outside of work. I had been all ready to wall myself off, to be all remote to say you only came here because she left you. But I had realized earlier we d been raising the kids in the most stupid way possible. And we d thought ourselves so smart, too. You know, we could both have high powered careers and still raise the twins. Brilliant.I shrugged. Weirdly no. Surprising amount of work in a goose farm. I do miss adults sometimes. Did you Do you often read to the kids? But the other was never around to see it, he said. I realized that about a month after you left. I missed you, you know? Mom was right. I had to tell you. I m sorry. I was an idiot. I mistook someone always there and willing to listen for love. Mostly we talked about the kids. And we never did anything, you know. Stuff. I just took her out for coffee sometimes, when I got out of the office, and you were at home. I shouldn t have. He gave a half laugh. The weird thing is I mostly talked to her about the kids. I know. He pointed at the goose. I m like Falada, you know. Doing things all out of order. Just a crazy critter, I guess. He got me to smile, before I could stop. But then I said, If we stop the process, it s going to take a while to restart. But I invested everything I could spare from my dad s inheritance on the farm. I don t want to close it. I paused. Besides, I don t want to go back to living the way we were. No, he said. I . I got permission to work from home. If you . If you don t want me to move in, I will find some place to rent around here. There s nowhere to rent around here. It s like twenty miles away. I paused. You probably shouldn t drive back, anyway. It s snowing hard out there, and that road isn t safe. You . could stay in the guest room tonight, and we ll talk it over in the morning. He nodded and got up. Let s load the dishwasher. Tomato sauce sticks like nobody s business. I started rinsing while he loaded, and as I handed him the last plate, he said, I do love you, you know. I always did. I really never fell in love with Iris. I just thought I had. I was just so lonely. I sighed. I still love you. It came off very curt. I almost didn t let you in because of that. I paused. And that probably is more than just today. I was afraid, you know. If I gave you too much, if I didn t have a fall back. I could end up like mom, when you left me for the younger chick. And then Iris. I felt tears in my eyes, and he must have sensed it, because he put his hand on my shoulder. Hey, he said. Right, I said. And with the last of my strength, Tomorrow. We ll talk tomorrow. The guest room is near the kids rooms. Did you bring a change of clothing? Which is why the next morning, I found him, with a sheet wrapped around him toga-style making pancakes for the kids while his clothes tumbled in the dryer.Turns out it s much easier to look after the kids when you both take turns, at the same time. And even easier when you actually talk to each other.By the time Falada the goose died of old age, Talon and Tori had finished college and the others were in high school.We stuffed the horse s head and mounted it over the fireplace. It didn t tell us that either of our mothers hearts was breaking, but every time I looked at it, I thought of my mother in law with gratitude.I eventually saw the calendar, and there was indeed my address, under Aileen written on the calendar in her handwriting, the way she wrote things she didn t want to forget.It was in July. On the day she d died. But she d been in the hospital for a week, after a stroke. I had no explanation for it, but I was grateful anyway.In some other time line, we got divorced. And maybe we fell in love later with other people, who knows? But what was the point of finding another love, when the love we had was perfectly fine?I kept the calendar page too. Framed. Over my desk. Some people believe around Halloween the world of the dead comes close to that of the living. But no one ever said anything about ink and paper.And it doesn t matter. Marriage, like an egg is a mystery. You treat it right, you trust it, and in the fullness of time something wonderful bursts forth.It occurs to me, I m an idiot who always forgets to promote, and should tell you that if you like my short stories, you might enjoy my collections, like:I was going to do a slightly Halloween-like story, but that and/or the chapter won t happen, mostly because I slept really really badly and think I need at least a day off today.Lately the mirror had become an enemy. I looked into it and didn t recognize the reflection: it was a person of faded hair, and loose skin. There were wrinkles on her forehead, and her eyes had lost the shine that had got me those contracts selling mascara.I d stopped putting makeup on, not only because it seemed to look funny like a painted skull but because I couldn t stand looking at myself in the mirror.Peter laughed at me. Relax! he said. You look fine, he said. You re fifty and you look thirty. Stop behaving as if you re a decaying crone. Mind you, he was older too, but men get more handsome as they age. They become distinguished and gain authority. Women on the other hand, as I told him Are like summer roses, and as a chill sets in we just look faded and brown and ugly. What? he asked. You re taking up poetry, now? And he kissed me, and when he kissed me it was all worth it. Perhaps the obsession with being old is because Liddy is away at college? he asked. Go visit her for the day. Mother had been very upset, when I decided to quit modeling and get married at twenty. She said I was just at the beginning, just starting to make it out of local markets. That spread in Teen Chic was only the beginning. I was going to go all the way to the top and make millions for one sitting. And then maybe work in movies.But I d met Peter. And I loved him. We were going to get married and have a dozen children.The dozen children never came. Only Liddy. But Liddy was . perfect. Oh, not as beautiful as I d been. Or at least beautiful in a less conventional way. Instead of my oval face, my blue eyes, the hair that had once been a bright gold, she had Peter s round face, and very white skin. She had dark air, and dark eyes, and a mobile mouth always disposed to smile. Mom sighed when she visited. Pity she took after Peter, she said. And, Unfortunately her face will never be her fortune. So, instead of being dragged to beauty pageants as soon as she was out of diapers, my daughter had learned to read at four, and she d learned to play piano all by herself, with just some video for help at six, and she sang like an angel, and she was brilliant, truly brilliant. She liked building things, and she wanted to study engineering.At the end of highschool MIT had accepted her, and Georgia Tech had offered a scholarship. She d chosen the state college, instead, just an hour away, because her high school boyfriend, Mike, was going there. I d bit my tongue really hard, but I figured she could always go somewhere better for graduate school.And she seemed to be enjoying school. And making friends. Only it left me very lonely, I guess. Peter told me to just find something I liked to do, and asked if I wanted to go back into modeling, since I was still a very handsome woman.But I looked in the mirror and frowned, and I knew I was no longer the fairest of them all. So I drove out to spend the day with Liddy. We went to the zoo, where we used to take her when she was little and then we went for a walk in the park. And that s when she told me.When Peter came home, I was sitting in front of the mirror, tracing the indentations on my forehead that would become furrows soon. Liddy is pregnant, I said. She and Mike want to get married this month. And then she ll drop out. He s going to finish his degree, but she My aged face looked even worse while crying. She says she can get some work in the evening, playing piano in restaurants and stuff, while he stays home with the baby, and then . I was fully crying now. She says she just wants to stay home, and raise her kids. Peter looked troubled, but didn t say anything. He folded me in his arms, until I d stopped crying, and then we went to bed.It s a thing, even after thirty years of marriage, that no matter how bad the day has been, when I hug Peter at night, under the covers, it s like we re in a paradise of our own. We drift to sleep as if we existed in a place with no time, as if this, just the two of us, warm, together were the best eternity.Only that night I couldn t drift off to sleep. So I put on my sweater, and my jeans, my boots and my heavy coat. I put my coat and gloves on.Outside, it was snow and blowing wind, and it was near midnight. But our suburb is very safe. Just a dozen houses, in the middle of wooded land. And perhaps if I walked enough I could sleep after.I walked out, into the sting of wind-driven snow, and I walked and walked. I felt as empty and barren as the landscape outside. I d had so many dreams for Liddy. I d given up so much for Liddy. And now instead of being my vindication, my proof I d been right all along, she was just going to be a suburban wife and mom, like every other wife and mom.What had the point of my entire life been? I wish I could go back, take it all back, start anew. And my heart was prey to a darkness darker than the night, to a fury greater than the wind that blew grains of ice into my face.I d just said that, in a low and vicious voice, I wish I could take it all back and start again, when I heard the wheels behind me.You know those fairy tale illustrations, where the carriage looks like a pumpkin, only it s all gold, and the tendrils that would be stem and leaves are golden ornament?There was a carriage like that, coming up behind me, in our perfectly mundane suburban street. It was pulled by four horses so white that they seemed to give off light, and so perfect they didn t seem to be flesh and blood.The carriage slowed down the dark caped man driving it said something I couldn t understand and then it stopped, and the door opened.I stepped back, because pumpkin carriage or not, I, like every child of the twentieth century, knew not to get in a vehicle with strangers. Only the person inside was no stranger. She made that clear, as she leaned forward and said, Isabelle, get in here right away. And it was mom. Only it was mom as I remembered her, when I was very small and she was young and always put together, make up and hair and clothes always perfect.As I scrambled into the seat, I realized other things. She was wearing this amazing dress, all blue and silver, as though it had been woven of moonlight, and she wore a tiara made of the brightest silver, and covered in pearls.The smell, in the carriage, too, was as I remembered when I was very young: the scent a mix of mom s perfume and face powder. It was a fragrance of roses at their peak, all woven with dream. When I was little I d thought that was the smell of adulthood and of being beautiful, and always put together perfectly.Inside the carriage, it was very comfortable, like riding on a cloud and I wanted to ask mom how she d got this pumpkin carriage, and where had the horses and coachman come from. This whole, I want to live in the mortal world, thing, daughter. The, I don t mind if I die, I ll live forever in my children? She laughed, and the laughter too was as I remembered from childhood, the tinkle of crystal, the sparkle of ice. Are you ready to come home? Oh, of course, the spell. You don t remember. She leaned forward and touched my forehead.And then I remembered. Only it was weird, because I remembered my real life too, being a child model, and the pageants, and all that stuff. Only at the same time I remembered. Really remembered.I d been a princess of fairyland, daughter of immortal Titania, worshiped and loved by the whole court. I d danced away every night, laughed away every morning. In the vast, dream-like landscape of fairyland, I d seen my reflection in lakes and ponds, and it was always perfect of course.I didn t know how long I lived, or how many centuries, because every day was unchanging and perfect, every morning dew-washed, every night blue velvet with the diamond pin prick of stars, and no problem was bigger than what to wear for the ball that evening.And then Peter had come. Strong and raw boned, with a round and ruddy face, sparkling black eyes, hair that wouldn t lie down right, and a mouth disposed to smile. That ridiculous boy would fight every dragon to get to our inner keep, Mother said. And I d still would have sent him away empty handed. Only you wanted to live in the mortal world. You said your children would live after you, and that this too was immortality. And I remembered. The argument had shaken the crystal columns and made the white ceilings tremble. And I d left with Peter. On his steed. Well, okay, actually his mustang convertible. Or at least that s what it was outside fairyland.We d kept it going too, for near thirty years, and Liddy still had it, though it was much the worse for the wear.I leaned back on the seat. Mother looked at me avidly. She was not used to not getting her way. In this my true memories and the spell both agreed.And something tugged at me, something missgave in my heart, like when you re about to jump, and you realize it s too long a jump and you ll fall. Not that this ever happened in fairyland, where every jump was perfectly timed. Not in fairyland, she said. You will be as you always were. From beside her on the seat, she pulled a mirror, and she handed it to me. And there I was. No wrinkles. No loose skin. Just my face as I remembered it, my face as I always knew I was, somewhere, inside the aging body.And it had all been a mistake, hadn t it? Liddy was not going to be my vindication. She might be smart, and she was beautiful to me, and she d been given so many gifts, but she was going to throw them all away and live a small life, in a small way. It had all been for nothing and I was aging, and would die. And I didn t even know if there was an everafter for the likes of me.And there it was. We do not die. So supposing I died as a human, would there be anything after? Even the humans didn t know.It had been yesterday, it seemed like, in my mind s eye, that Peter and I had ridden away, on his steed. And I was already old. And what had I done with my life? I d raised a daughter, who was going to do nothing with her life, but raise children and Mother knocked on the ceiling, and the carriage slowed. I have to give them time, she said. To open the silver gates of fairyland. We d go in. Past the guardian dragons. And the gates would close. And I d dance away the nights, sing away the mornings Peter would wake and know himself abandoned. And what would Liddy s son or daughter look like? And would she have more?She and Mike weren t going to have a lot of time. Perhaps we could take the kids, now and then, and go to the zoo, as we had with Liddy, when she was small.And there would be a bit of fairyland in their laughter, the tinkle of merry bells, and they would laugh and dance, and then grow up and I hit the ground hard. Probably would have broken something except for the snow. And I rolled, and got up, feeling hurt and cold.Why had I jumped? Why? What sense did it even make? Why trade perfect eternity for a few good moments, and then regret and failure?I managed to pull myself up. My hip hurt, and my side felt bruised. But the carriage was nowhere in sight. Instead, I was at the end of the subdivision, a mile and a half from home. An easy walk which I often took in summer.Across the street from me, the lights of the convenience store sparkled. I didn t have a cell phone, and thought of going in, and asking them to call Peter to come and get me. But that was stupid. He d be asleep. He didn t deserve to be awakened.And the walk back would give me time to think. I limped back, through the snow, and thought, and thought. You know, eternity of perfect everything was . eternity. And I d always be young there. But there was an intensity to the moments of happiness and triumph. And I had eternity whenever Peter held me. I was about halfway home, and saw someone coming towards me, through the white blizzard. He was big and bulky. But our suburb was safe, so probably someone like me, walking to calm down.I went to him, gave him my hand. He took it. I felt his warmth through the snow. I woke, and I was all alone, he said. And I thought you d left, you d gone back home to your mom. I felt a little shock. It must have shown. He smiled, Of course I remember. It was only you who had to forget so you could leave. He paused. I saw a drawing of you, when I was twelve. In an illustration of fairyland. And then I had to go in. I had to win you. My own piece of immortality. I walked forward, then, and he held my hand. I m sorry about Liddy, he said. I knew you had great hopes for her. Now, Belle, he started. I remembered vaguely, in my earlier rage of crying, talking of abortion of adoption, of No, not that, I said, quickly. I think that was the fairy. You don t have much will of your own, you know. So you expect your children will be like you. You plot their courses and they ll be exactly as you expect. I paused. And even then, you can be wrong. Some young man might come in and fight the guard dragons . He laughed and I said, Yes, but you know, that s part of it. I don t get to choose her path. It s not fairyland where every day is the same. This is what she chooses, the dragons she must slay. Sure, and maybe she ll do something absolutely wonderful, some day. Or maybe not. Maybe in time between childhood and death, she ll just be happy. Maybe that s all it is. Even if you don t do much, really, but take the kids to the zoo, and read to them, and listen to them laugh, and feel happy. I laughed and kissed him. Maybe we should sell the house and move closer to Liddy. Remember how tired we got when she was little? We can have the kids over now and then. We can take them to the zoo. We can read to them and play with them. Later, when we were in bed, after the passion had been spent and I was warm again, as he was half asleep, and I snuggled up to his warm, familiar form, I thought that, yes, maybe that was all it was.Maybe there was no other life after decay and death for me. Maybe there wasn t even one for humans. But here, together and warm, here was happiness. Here was the certainty of love that outlasted decay and death. Here was eternity.It occurs to me, I m an idiot who always forgets to promote, and should tell you that if you like my short stories, you might enjoy my collections, like:When I said show up for the group photo, who thought that meant non-humans only ?I guess the rest of you were too busy for the Hun family photo? How are we going to send a getwell cat to HerbN like this?(And yes, this is me being silly and trying to cheer myself up.)UPDATE: Foxfier sent this as her pictoral excuse for not being in for the group photo. I don t believe her. That kitchen is way too clean and there are a bunch of kids missing!It is becoming clear the left is going to steal this election. Either through fraud (so much fraud), or through their time-honored methods of obfuscating and lying to the population.Just like Nixon became the greatest crook ever and they preened for years over having brought down this would-be Hitler, they will now for decades shape the narrative to be that President Trump mishandled the virus, and destroyed the economy and therefore deserved to be brought down. And that their savior and spokes- zombie, China-Biden has with the touch of his regal hand, and his harsh and bizarre mandates on who can make a living, and who can t, and also on no one being able to show their faces to human beings not related to us, saved the nation.In the mean time, he ll also save the planet, because of how many people will die of things non-Covidial and probably famine In these trying times. While we re all in this together. I mean the fewer people the better, right, since we are after all a cancer on the planet and the most important thing, the spokeszombie assures us, is to stop the Earth from literally baking. Yes, I am open to a miracle that will save us, at the last minute. But not hopeful. As far as I can tell, between the media gaslighting the country and the massive fraud they stand ready to deploy, we have not a chance.It is unfair, unjust, insane, but I ve studied enough history to think that it needs to make sense, or that vast crowds of people possess some sort of wisdom.I ve been very afraid since March, watching the gaslighting and people willingly ceding control of their brains to news stations THEY KNEW WERE KNOWN FOR LYING.The American people are furious, and as such will lash out. Unfortunately in our times of central federalized power, most of them don t realize our highly unusual, freedom-loving president did not lock them in; did not slap them with mask mandates; did not make them wear masks in airplanes; did not close their church and make their ministers parrots of min-truth. That was their mostly democrat, though Lord knows some Republicans are thick as pig shiit as well, particularly in Texas and Ohio Instead of being angry at their appalling governors, they re mad at the president. I ve actually heard people salt of the Earth, who of course follow the covidiocy with gaping mouths, sure that millions have died in this say that Trump should not have closed the churches or wonder why Trump won t let their favorite restaurant open.Well, one thing is for sure. They believe what failed in Obama s drive to break us and drive us into socialism was the fact we re all too rich and comfortable. You see and this is not strictly true, but it s what they were told and what they ve seen in movies, and our would be rulers are not very smart and have the depth of a puddle in their minds all that stood between them and complete overturning of the American system was enough suffering that the dispossessed masses will rise up. This is not true, but they do not know that. They don t understand the actual, real mechanics of revolution, nor what happens in them.Therefore the first thing they re going to try to do is immiserate the country. No, I mean really immiserate the country.I m not afraid of being poor. I grew up being very poor and for various reasons, throughout our lives, we ve brought ourselves to the brink of utter ruin long enough.So, this won t be a big deal. Probably. Though I think we are about to experience this at a level most Americans have never even heard of. (Mostly because most Americans haven t heard about Cubans peasants (everyone is a peasant but the rulers) having their purses searched for SEAFOOD, which they re not allowed to have or eat. You know, in a tropical island, surrounded by ocean, laden with food, they keep the peasants starved.)That s fine. Yeah, it will probably shorten my life expectancy to 10 years or so, because, you know, that s the age at which people die in such societies (do not let them tell you that everyone always lived about as long as we do. We ve almost doubled what people can aspire to living. Mostly through the free market and real, not socialist science.) But then again, as grandma used to say To a bad life, little time is needed. Unfortunately this type of extreme poverty does preclude revolt. Because what we ve found is that the starved masses don t rebel. And as we ve found during 2020 neither do the panicked masses. So as long as our utterly incompetent would-be rulers keep us both starved and panicked, they ll stay in power.I m not sure if they will go for roundups and show trials. I suspect so. I m seeing rumblings of this, at least. They are positively lustful for reeducation camps, and truth and reconciliation commissions. And frankly they re very angry at us for how long we took to fall. Like the citadel that holds the invaders too long, we are to be destroyed.I am sure I am on several lists, though it s entirely possible that I m small enough potatoes they won t bother. I m not sure which I prefer, but my kids assure me they prefer I stay alive. So, who knows?I believe they will actually not go after their political enemies but after those they hate, which weirdly have very little to do with politics, and mostly with the politics of envy.If they weren t about to toss us all in the pot with them, I would laugh, because the darlings of science fiction who sold their souls to Marxism, in an environment that is highly fraught with favoritism and arbitrariness, and therefore filled with envy and malice, think they will be safe and on top, when in face every shrieking little harpy who ever got rejected is just waiting to drag them down and make them confess to privilege, regardless of their color or status as victims.Will Lizard Man Zuckerborg and meth addict Dorsey also be dragged from their glittering mansions, their piles of white powder to be hanged in the street? I don t know. In former times I would say no. I mean, at that level of wealth they can always move to another country and live it up, right?But what other country? No, seriously. I think most people, American born and bred, have absolutely no clue of what an outsized foot print America has in the world. America falls, the world falls.More importantly, electing China Joe (and the Ho) will give China control of our nation. While the would be tech lords are convinced their status as prime-vassals entitles them to better treatment and perhaps a sort of vice-roy status, they are dreaming. They should have spent some of the time they spent indulging in interesting mind-altering substances and strange sex acts on reading Chinese history. To begin with, as round eyes, they are de-facto inferior. Second as traitors to their homeland, they will never be trusted.We might yet see them receive to the hilt what they ve earned. I wish I could like it more.In terms of world situation, I beg you to pray for Israel. They ve seen this coming and they re a tough people. But they ll be left friendless and exposed in an hostile world.What I m concerned with though is not mere survival or even the survival and thriving of my kin. (And part of my fear is that we re all about to be confined to small areas, and I m not sure my family will be able to get together, in an area where we can see each other. Because in case you haven t noticed, over the last 8 months planes became something to look at not ride in at least not if you can t endure a mask every day and they re about to clamp restrictions and prices through the roof on the oil.) What is acting upon me is deeper and more worrisome: it is the survival of mankind, the survival of the idea of freedom, the survival of enough civilization to allow us to go to the stars.Yes, I think people should still be marrying and being given in marriage, and having children is perhaps more important than ever, particularly if you re willing to raise them really raise them and inure them against the gaslighting of the mass media. Make them free citizens, able to think for themselves, and perhaps there is a hope for the world. Even if it won t be easy for them.It s going to be hard. It s going to be really hard. Particularly for those of us who are no longer able to either be any help in a fight or do much of use to society.Oh, our new self-agrandizing elites (including the ones on the right who are enabling this, and who think they will be a permanent kept loyal opposition and some of them will, but the mask has fallen off and we re not stupid.) aren t competent enough to run a brothel with free and ever-renovating beer kegs. But that is actually a plus for their plans.There is a reason that communist governments only survive when the populace is utterly destroyed, when poverty is rampant, when they can establish a sort of backwards feudalism where everyone is poor save the flea bitten ruler who gets to rule in hell.They come in on crisis though if there are historians in the future, they will possibly be amazed at how ably they conjured this one out of nothing and perpetuate the crisis.We know they will take the internet down, as soon as possible. Even with it curtailed by their willing lackeys it s too easy to get around and to communicate with our like. They need to take us back to the 1950s and the narrative spilling form TV screens 24/7 being the only and the only acceptable history. They have had a taste of how powerful they can be with their gaslighting, and they re not about to let it go.Which will of course also mean that all entertainment must be under their control and come from approved voices.How long do I have? How long does indie publishing have? A year? Two? If we re very, very lucky.After that comes control and censorship that will make China look like a playground.And that s part of what worries me. When I tell you to build under, build over, build around I am not actually joking. And many of you are qualified and can indeed do it. And are young enough to have kids, and teach them, and send them forward to maintain or re-establish civilization, to carry the banner of freedom into humanity s future.Me? What the hell can I do? I can write stories, and I can write blog posts, but both of those are subject to sudden and complete eradication. And have to be paid by trackable means. So I don t know. I m going to ask you, right now, that those of you who have appreciated this blog copy and save the posts you find most useful. Print them. Print the stories, too, if they amuse you. Perhaps some words will go into the future. Some.That is ultimately what is eating at me. It s come to this: I sit here feeling old and useless.What good is it to be present at the fall, if I can t fight it, and can do nothing to prevent it?Go forth. Be not afraid. A just G-d might allow evil to prevail for a time, but He won t allow it to reign over humanity forever. Be prepared for the fact that it might be a long time, though. (Yes, the scraps of flag will go out. I ve been stuck in the house, because I don t do well with cold.) Keep the faith. Stay alive. Do the best you can.In the time we have left with unprecedented access to knowledge through the internet, buy courses in real stuff, and download them and save them (on CD if you can) or print them. In as long as we have, learn everything you can. If nothing else, it s knowledge you might pass on, which might be useful in the future.Build over, build under, build around. Have children and teach them well. Be Americans, even if they take America away from us. I might not be able to do much, but one of you might hold the key to the future.She was crying in the copier room when I came in, and she looked up at me with moist blue eyes, like pansies under the rain.I couldn t remember her name. Too D*mn Young isn t a name. Even my name is not that weird. Crying like that, she looked about sixteen. No makeup. Blond hair down to the middle of her back. Very pretty. Maybe one of our high school interns?And then she grabbed a tissue from box on the shelf, wiped her eyes, blinked at me and said, Oh, Mr. Rumple, I m so sorry. I didn t know It s just I don t know what to do. This promotion. And I realized she couldn t be an intern they didn t get promoted and that she knew my name, which probably meant she d been kicking around the office for more than a year, because I didn t come in that often. I m just the accountant, okay? Mostly I work from home, or come in after hours to look through the books. Sometimes, rarely, I have to come during the day for some documents. But not that often.She nodded. It s Maddie, she said. She says I was being oppressed by remaining a receptionist. She said that receptionists are outmoded, and I need to work as As a copywriter. Maddie, which is what all the young women in the office called her, was Ms. Madeline Maddoc, AKA Mad Maddie to all the male members of the staff. Mad Maddie had struck again.Look, I m not sure what had happened to poor Mad Maddie back in the dim years of her youth, before she d become CEO of Baileng Copyrighters Inc. Maybe a man had bit her, or not bit her. Whichever.What I know is that if allowed to go on at any length in a staff meeting she d bore you with a long list of men who had made discouraging statements about her abilities, starting, seemingly, in her cradle. At one of the meetings I attended, I swear she said that the doctor who delivered her said, Well, she s a girl, she ll never amount to much. At any rate, the mad one had achieved control of the company by age 40. And since then she d been on a mission to make sure none of the women hired by Baileng ever had to suffer in an inferior position. If this meant promoting the cleaning woman ahead of our top copywriter? Well, so be it. Girl power!Look, I didn t care. I was the accountant, and no one in the glitzy daylight business cared much about what I did in the dark after hours, with our books, provided it wasn t criminal and the IRS didn t take enough taxes to shut us down.The problem was that what Maddie had done was make our company near-unable to keep decent female help, from receptionists to executive assistants to even cleaning ladies. If you weren t hiring for top posts, you might as well hire a man, or else you d not have her long. She d be promoted up the ladder, fail, and leave, either in disgrace or for a better position, aka, to be someone else s problem.But no one dared explain this to Maddie. She d tell us again about how her science teacher had told her girls were stupid at math, which frankly sounded pretty unlikely for the 70s in the US. Ah . I said, noncommittally, and prepared to back out of the room, except the young woman was actually very pretty and seemed devastated. And you don t think you can do it? The tissue came out and pressed against her nose. I don t know anything about advertising, she said, nasally. I have an associates in English, for crying out loud. Well . that means you know how to write in English, so that s a beginning. You d be amazed how many of our executives can t do that. Between the impacted and the incentivized, they verbify the language to death. This got me a pallid smile, around the tissue. She brought me in to the meeting, and she made a big song and dance about the Straw Brothers account and how I was perfect for it. I had no clue what to say, so then I went to my desk and looked it up. It s a lumberyard in Caroline. She wants me to do a big advertising campaign for their straw bales. Apparently they have a big straw bale event every fall, and they hired us to to Promote it? I asked, helpfully. To be fair, this was pretty small potatoes, which meant Mad Maddy was moderating her reach somewhat. Maybe old dogs did learn new tricks. This thing was probably worth maybe two thousand for us.She threw her arms wide, Why would I know anything about straw. I was raised in Denver. I shrugged. It s just Maddie. Look, it s not as scary as it seems. Yeah, Straw Brothers has stores all over the front range, but I doubt they ll pay us more than about ten thousand for a campaign. I m not even sure why they did it. Maybe they re looking for a deduction. People do buy straw around this time of year, for animal fodder, and to cover fields, and to do straw bale gardening, it s apparently better if it rots a bit over winter, and stuff. But it s a pretty closed market that s going to happen anyway. I don t think you can fail. She made a face, The only time I saw a straw bale was when we went to this cowboy pancake breakfast, when I was little, and we sat on bales. She sighed. I still have no idea what to do. They want to do some kind of TV spot? She started crying again. I don t know what to do! I normally don t get involved in this stuff. The faster Mad Maddie s pushes fail, the less damage they do. But the kid was young and looked scared. Okay, I thought of a way this couldn t be claimed to be sexual harassment. Us ugly guys can be accused just by staring vacantly in a woman s direction. And as ugly guys went, I was the ugliest. Look, if you want to spitball, we could maybe grab a coffee. Or not. Entirely up to you. Oh. Sure. I m just here to pick up some stuff, and it will only take me about ten minutes. Okay! she said, and grinned, and looked like I d promised her something wonderful.So she grabbed her laptop, and we went to the coffee shop across the street. Her name was Amber Golden, and she was 25. I didn t even ask her any of that. And I also didn t do much in the way of suggestions, honest. It s just she was really creative. I was just there to listen, and the fact that I couldn t help being delighted with some of her ideas made it better.You see, the kid was good at doggerel rhyme and line-cartoons. She kept drawing these funny figures doing funny things, and explaining what they were doing with silly verses. In the end she concluded by pointing out that straw bales were great for seating and tables at Fall and Thanksgiving parties, and really, who was I to argue.I took her funny rhymes on Straw for Pa, and asked her if she wanted a tune for it. Look, something you accumulate over a few thousand years of life is music. At least if you have a memory for it. Her rhyme fitted perfectly to this jingle that medieval maidens used to dance to.I hummed it, then she got up some sort of program that I could play it in, and which would record the tune. And then I showed her a program that took line drawings and animated them, and was free, even.By the time she had a great spot, about two minutes long, there was a server standing by our table, all serious, Sorry, guys, but we close at seven, so So, we d taken up a table and only bought two coffees and a couple of pastries. I gave him a generous tip, to compensate, while Amber gathered up her stuff, and thanked me all confused, Thank you so much, Mr. Rumple. Is that what I should call you, Mr. Rumple? And gosh, I don t know how to thank you. I laughed. Oh, just give me your first born, I said. And call me Rumple. Just about everyone does. Also, I didn t do much for you. You did it all yourself. All you needed was some self confidence. She grinned and skipped away, and I shook my head. There were echoes and memories in my mind, but it had never gone well for me, so why would it now? I wasn t even going to try.Over the next month our paths didn t cross, although I heard comments from some people about the new Golden kid. But perhaps it was the new golden kid and might not be amber at all.Then about a month later, when I was leaving the office, I heard her call, Mr. Rumple? I turned. She was wearing nicer clothes. Still a skirt suit, just nicer. I was just glad she hadn t gone to pantsuits. Those weren t designed for the female anatomy and always looked weird.She blushed. I I have a new marketing campaign they gave me? Achyro restaurants . and . well . I wonder if I could take you to lunch and talk to you? It seemed to help so much last time? We went out to one of the Achyro restaurants, Achyro Diner, and stuffed ourselves on dolmades and baklava, while she told me her ideas. Not line drawings, that time. She was thinking of taking various members of a large family,and showing them celebrating their occasions with Achyro restaurants, from the young couple with kids going to the diner for their pancake special, to the young man proposing in Achyro Heart which was sort of a bistro-ey thing, to You get the point. Ended up we stayed through lunch, and then with the complete campaign sketched out, she invited me to for dinner to celebrate.Of course I was wary. Look, I really am very ugly. Or would be, if I were human.Somehow, and I swear I made no moves and kept expecting some sort of trap, honest this became a thing. Every week, she d take me out somewhere she was very insistent on paying and talked to me about her projects. It s just, see, that I feel very comfortable with you, she said, after a few months. I don t have any family, you know? Mom and dad died in an accident when I was young, and grandma died three years ago. With you, I feel like I m with family. Which figured. I wanted to tell her I wasn t family. I wasn t even really human. I was Lonely. Really lonely. I looked back over the last few thousand years. There used to be more of my kind around. Now, it was just me. It had been just me since the few remaining of my kind had died in the black plague, leaving me all alone. That s when I d tried that foolish gambit. I kept wondering if she d connect the dots.And I thought she hadn t. We went out all the time for six months. Then she invited me as her plus one to the company s Holiday dinner. People kept looking funny at us, because there she was, five eight and blond and beautiful, while I was five four and . well, very ugly indeed.Then she asked me out to dinner, and came in looking all serious, and told me some guy named Walter Furst had asked her to marry him. I felt my heart sink to my feet, and she looked at me, all serious, and said You know . the thing is . I mean .. Would you be all right with that? Only if you give me your first born, I said, and grinned, displaying teeth that I knew were just a little too sharp for humans. Most humans backed away from that, but instead, she reached across and grabbed my hand.I was so shocked, I didn t even pull away. She looked straight into my eyes and said, It wouldn t work. I know your name. I mean, your real name. I want to assure you that the legend about my vanishing in a puff of smoke was embroidery on what actually happened. Though I might very well have thrown a massive snit, because I d worked so long and so hard and then This time I just blinked at her. She smiled at me, Yeah. I looked in company records, after our first meeting, she said. And it doesn t matter to me. I was just hoping you wouldn t want me to marry Furst. I was hoping She took a deep breath, But I didn t know what the whole thing with the first born was . Oh, I said. Well, most of my kind there is no name for us, really. Though elves or fairies or whatever fits, if you don t go thinking of us as Tolkien elves died in the Bubonic plague. Maybe all of us. I don t know. I ve never met another. I just I was lonely. I thought if I raised a baby, I d have a family. Okay, it was stupid. She gripped my hand harder. We re not so different, you and I. I mean, I m not an elf or anything, but you always felt like family. And I realized suddenly that s what she d become. Family. Kind of an important part of the family. We d encouraged each other, supported each other, joked together. What had been my very lonely life with numbers for company had been well, kind of the life I wanted the last few months. I sighed, You d marry me? That s when I lost my mind and kissed her. Afterwards, as I laughingly told her that we couldn t get married in a minute, but I thought we could in 24 hours, in this state, she looked serious again, You won t dye your hair white or something to pretend to get old along with me, right? I laughed. A worthy trade. Better a few years with you than endless, lonely immortality. I did get her first born, it turns out. And the second and third and fourth. All of which look like their mother, fortunately.On the first weekend of this month, at the meeting with my fans at Pete s Kitchen on Colfax, a young and enthusiastic fan/friend/adopted nephew got to talking about politics.Pete s is not exactly downtown, but it s on the periphery, and area solidly liberal. It is also frequented mostly by people who have been taught they re down and out because of those evil non-leftists. I never inquired, though we ve been going there for decades, but it is quite possible, not to say likely, that our favorite waitress is leftist. (Going on clothing, demeanor, tattoos. Which could be completely wrong, btw. G-d knows I dress liberal (mostly through not giving that much of a hang about how I look most of the time).)Sure. It s rude to speak politics loudly enough to be heard in the entire area (though to be fair, he could only be heard in the immediate vicinity which was empty except for busboys and servers.) Or at least I ve been discommoded by conversations from the next table.If you search my past posts, about 10? years ago, I went for a writing-weekend away and the table next to us was filled with people our age who should know better, talking about how stupid Americans were because we didn t wish to give government more power. I HELPFULLY engaged them in discussion by telling them to keep their ignorant mouths shut about things they didn t understand. Mind you, if instead of being offended, I d be perfectly willing to discuss it with them.And here s the thing, okay? Think about it: of all the times, in every public place where you heard a table/group/party loudly discuss politics. How many times were the politics even vaguely center or the right of Lenin?And then we re surprised they have absolutely no clue who we are, that they buy into the stories the left and their pet media tell, that they think of people who don t believe in socialism/communism as bigoted evil, and full only of hate.Well, what would you think if those people were afraid to speaking up, of even mentioning their politics in public, much less defending their opinions.But Sarah, you ll say, what can we do? How can we do that if they will just cancel us/take everything we own/destroy our livelihoods/attack our families and loved ones?Look, I know any number of you HAVE to stay quiet at work. I know any other number of you keep quiet around your aged parents, obeying the Biblical injunction to respect them.I m not saying to break that, not really. Not unless you have a place to fall should they take away your way of making a living.But this is the stuff communist dictatorships is made of. And now we know and I want to put this very bluntly to all of you out there who think that voting third party or not voting this election is cute what waits us if Biden wins.It s not just the truth and reconciliation commission, the packing of the court, the destruction of the constitution by writing a modernized one. All of that and more is on the way.Oh, it won t look like it s all gone, and my friends who are naive and count on the constitution and the forms of the republic protecting them will be thrown a sop. After all, all the communist regimes had a loyal opposition, who were given crumbs from the table and allowed to exist.2020 has shown us exactly what is going on, and how far they re willing to go, both for power and to hide their corruption, their vices, their utter debasement. What they re willing to do is appalling, not just what the media is willing to do, but the elected democrats in various states, and the FBI and the agencies who took oaths to protect America (I wish on them the hell of oathbreakers.) It also amounts to selling our country out to the Chinese Fascists. Who are actual fascists and will destroy everything of value in the US as they remake us in their image. This will save the rule of the CCP and extend it all over the world.Will we rise again? Maybe. But none of us reading this now will see it. Do you wish that on your children and grandchildren? Will you throw away your vote on a third party, or not vote, even if it might save us?The worst part is that I can see this going on, and the right staying quiet. Because we have jobs and families and lives.Until we don t. If you give up your liberty, the government can take anything else from you at the drop of a hat. And will. Look at China.Again, I m not asking you speak out if it will make you destitute (not yet) or that you speak out if it will break your elderly parents hearts (not yet.) And I m definitely not asking you to put your name on anything that will target you for reprisal. Yeah, I ve done it, but at this point in time that s just stupid. Because they will come for you. At least don t do it, if you re not ready to fight back.But I know more mixed marriages than I care to mention. And the conservative is always quiet, even as the leftist spouse needles, attacks, and snarks on a regular basis.No. No, you don t. And in fact you don t have a marriage. You never did. And don t tell me My wife/husband just thinks I m stupid. Some marriage.It always baffles my friends in this situation when the children of the union then embrace the left. Well, why shouldn t they? Did you ever defend your point of view? You have moral and justice on your side, why not explain that? Why not explain that we can t go on like this? that we re effectively being destroyed/invaded/perverted by people who mouth pieties and are in fact human horrors?Sure, it might end your marriage. But if it does, how much of a marriage was it?And that applies to friendships too, at least those that won t cost you your way of life.Look, many on the left are knaves, villains, horrible human beings. But a lot of them aren t. They just never hear the other side of the story.We don t speak out against things like addicted ferals taking over our downtowns, because we don t want to be thought heartless . even though the policy of mollycoddling the mentally ill and anti-social is destroying livelihoods of business owners and property owners, and just working people who can t afford to leave.We don t speak out against the COVID restrictions, because we don t want to be thought heartless. Even though this is gutting the constitution and making us effective slaves, preparing us for take over by people who don t respect individuals at all.We want to be cool and hip, even as the left is making disagreeing with them unacceptable.And we censor ourselves in public. In the rare times we don t, sometimes we get weird looks, like people are going but he/she is so nice. You need a lot of those experiences of reality to break through the indoctrination.The hour is perilous. Win or lose and be aware we might lose, because fraud will be unimaginable it is time to speak up.*As some of you know my husband is a mathematician. What you might not understand is what this means. What this means is that numbers are vitally, incredibly important to him. And when numbers don t add up, he goes slightly unhinged. How unhinged? Well, he once spent over half an hour trying to give 45c to a clerk who had undercharged us. This wasn t an unusual occurrence. I only remember that one, because we had a girl both boys had a crush on along on that outing, and she looked near-terrrified, until I pointed out Dan is a mathematician and that s not so much an avocation as a condition. He s also far less political/politically aware than I am, so he keeps coming up with a bang against things I ve known for I think my entire adult life, like the fact the media is irretrievably crooked.A combination of these two fueled him to post the following on Faceborg. I m posting it here as a guest post with his permission. He would like me to point out and this was said indignantly that the NYT mostly repeated stuff from other reports, which means he says this is an MSM-wide problem. I didn t meme it with welcome to the party pal nor did I say you sweet summer child. He is far smarter than I, just not a politics-addict. Which tells you how normal people have missed these things, for how long SAH*The NYT takes what SHOULD be a human-interest story about how people s livelihoods are being threatened by the current COVID-19 situation and turns it into a blatant attempt to manipulate voters. For shame!My favorite passage in there is from a PA guy who is a stunning example of a low-information voter who believes everything the MSM spoon-feeds him without question. Point-by-point: I’m not real happy with the way President Trump has handled, or continues to handle, the pandemic. I think what he’s doing is hurting more than helping. Dude, you need to stop watching the MSM. Just because it s on TV doesn t make it true. Trump didn t order the lockdowns that put you out of work, your governor did. Blame him. And in PA, that would be a Democrat, BTW, not even the same PARTY as Trump. First, he started with, “I built the greatest economy this country has ever known,” which is not true. Again, stop watching MSM; the Bureau of Labor and Statistics disagrees with you and supports Trump s claim. The stock market does, too, even now. The 3 years leading up to the lockdowns that were ordered mostly by Democratic governors WERE the greatest economy we ve seen in the US. Even more so for blacks and asians than whites, BTW. Go look at the numbers (https://www.bls.gov/). There s some great historical documents there that tell the story. If you re a hardcore Obama fan, do NOT look at 2008-2016 unless you want your preconceptions shattered, especially when it comes to black employment. And now he’s talking about bringing that back, which I think is great, but you can’t do that until you deal with the pandemic properly. Oops, didn t you just say Trump did NOT build the greatest economy that you know want him to bring back? Which is it, hypocrite? Make up your mind. As for how to deal with the pandemic properly, Biden is promising to continue the lockdowns and make masks mandatory nationwide. Despite the facts that any doctor worth his salt will tell you that putting a mask on an asthmatic is a really bad idea, and even the CDC isn t even SURE that masks do any good. From their FAQ (https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/faq.html): Masks MAY slow the spread of the virus and help people who MAY have the virus and do not know it from transmitting it to others. That s a lot of weasel words there, all translating in plain English to, We re not sure, but it PROBABLY won t hurt to wear masks. And not only is he ignoring it, but he takes steps to limit and slow down testing. Well, now you re just being ignorant. Trump isn t ignoring COVID-19; he tested positive, quarantined and recovered well before October 23, when this article was published. The fact that the journalist at the NYT included this statement this late in the game indicates clear and present malice, rather than credible journalism practices. As for slow testing, we ve had faulty tests for 7 months with He continues to go to his rallies; he’s encouraging people to gather in rallies. For me, it’s about human life. Again, old news, and the BLM continued to gather in protest rallies, too, during that time. AND they didn t wear masks for WEEKS, until conservatives started pointing out the hypocrisy. THEN they started wearing masks. And burning building, looting businesses and murdering innocent bystanders. But, yeah, it s about human life. Just not ALL humans; only those who agree with their politics.Yes, yes there are about 225K deaths under discussion, although it s not clear WHAT caused the deaths. Do you know what happens when a gunshot victim bleeds out, then tests positive for COVID-19? It s listed as a COVID-19 death, that s what. Most of the first 100K attributed deaths were made with clinical diagnoses, in fact. That means no test, just a doctor saying, Yeah, the patient died of respiratory failure, so it s PROBABLY COVID-19. Think about it. The tests just weren t available in quantity at the time, and the efficacy was suspect. Even the official COVID-19 site for PA (https://www.health.pa.gov/…/cor…/Pages/Symptoms-Testing.aspx) includes the disclaimer: No test is perfect. There is a false negative rate and false positive rate that varies depending on the test and the collection modality. Accuracy of antigen tests may be problematic due to poor sensitivity. Some things that may affect the test’s accuracy include: You may have the virus, but the swab might not collect it from your nose or throat. The swab or mucus sample may be accidentally contaminated by the virus during collection or analysis. The nasal or throat swab may not be kept at the correct temperature before it can be analyzed. The chemicals used to extract the virus genetic material and make copies of the virus DNA may not work correctly. So the test results are suspect, even now. And the cause of death rarely gets changed after the fact. That mean those attributed numbers are HIGHLY suspect and should be taken with a grain of salt. Witness the NYC numbers. As of today, there are almost 20K confirmed deaths in NYC, but less than 5K probable deaths (https://www1.nyc.gov/site/doh/covid/covid-19-data.page).So how much of that 225K is actually deaths FROM COVID-19 as opposed to deaths WITH COVID-19? Well, if it s similar to the NYC numbers, that would be about 50K nationwide. Contrast that with about 35K deaths from flu/pneumonia for the previous flu season (https://www.cdc.gov/flu/about/burden/2018-2019.html).BTW, the CDC data is fascinating reading, and the NYT journalist really should take a quick look, at the very least. Here s some highlights from 2018 (https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/products/databriefs/db355.htm) with some notes on the current situation: In 2018, a total of 2,839,205 resident deaths were registered in the United States. That s an average of 236,600 per MONTH. So, the total number of ATTRIBUTED COVID-19 deaths (see above) over 7-8 months is still less than the number of TOTAL deaths in a normal SINGLE MONTH in the US. So how many total deaths there have been in 2020? CDC reports 2,399,494 through Week 39 (September 26): https://gis.cdc.gov/grasp/fluview/mortality.html. The previous year, over the same 39 weeks, the CDC reported 2,123,573. That means that 2020 has resulted in a net increase in TOTAL deaths of about 13% (275,921). Compare that to a 4.4% (86,599) increase in the 2014-15 flu season or a 3.2% (64,531) increase in the 2016-17 flu season.So, yes, 2020 looks worse than anything we ve seen since 2013, and nobody s denying that, despite what the MSM is claiming, but it s hardly the we re all going to die story the MSM has been pushing.And don t forget that the population since 2013 has been steadily increasing, so the raw numbers are less important than the mortality per 100K, which is a COMPARABLE metric.Leading causes of death:All causes: 723.6 per 100KHeart disease: 163.6 per 100KCancer: 149.1 per 100KChronic lower respiratory: 39.7 per 100KFlu/Pneumonia: 14.9 per 100KSuicide: 14.2 per 100KFlu/Pneumonia/COVID-19: 55.2 per 100K (attributed)Flu/Pneumonia/COVID-19: 13.8 per 100K (probable, based on NYC)That s a big range, but if the PROBABLE numbers are accurate, that s LESS than 2018 numbers for flu/pneumonia alone. And if the ATTRIBUTED numbers are accurate, it s still about the same as 2018 for flu/pneumonia/chronic lower respiratory combined. And we already suspect that most chronic lower respiratory deaths were attributed to COVID-19, so were does that leave us?Tying COVID-19-related unemployment to an election is irresponsible journalism. My second favorite story, from a Salvadoran in Vegas, deserves a separate writeup: The other sad update is that the president got a green light to end the T.P.S. program (which has allowed families who fled El Salvador and other countries to temporarily live and work legally in the United States). First off, what is TPS? From https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/ /temporary : Congress created Temporary Protected Status (TPS) in the Immigration Act of 1990. It is a temporary immigration status provided to nationals of specifically designated countries that are confronting an ongoing armed conflict, environmental disaster, or extraordinary and temporary conditions. It provides a work permit and stay of deportation to foreign nationals from those countries who are in the United States at the time the U.S. government makes the designation. The key word here is temporarily. Trump EXTENDED the program for Salvadorans A YEAR AGO (https://www.dhs.gov/ /us-and-el-salvador-sign ) to 2021, ensuring the program DOESN T end during his first term. The program will end for El Salvador eventually, as that s it s stated intent: TPS beneficiaries return to the immigration status that the person held prior to receiving TPS, unless that status has expired or the person has successfully acquired a new immigration status. TPS beneficiaries who entered the United States without inspection and who are not eligible for other immigration benefits, for example, would return to being undocumented at the end of a TPS designation and become subject to removal. In plain English, that means he s not at risk of being deported if he s not an ILLEGAL alien. If he IS, why hasn t he done anything about that in the 6 years he s been here (which included 3 years under Obama)?He ends with: If Trump wins, we have no more hope. I m really not following the reasoning here. Trump extends TPS for Salvadorans, and even provides ADDITIONAL time: Additionally, the Trump Administration is providing El Salvadorans with TPS an additional 365 days after the conclusion of the TPS-related lawsuits to repatriate back to their home country. As stated early, the POINT of the program was NEVER a path to citizenship, but some protection for foreigners in the US when bad things happened in their home countries (in this case, El Salvador). This does NOT sound like Trump is planning to kick out the Salvadorans: TPS is a legal mechanism to provide temporary status for some foreigners who need humanitarian relief. The Administration’s goal is to create an orderly and responsible process to repatriate Salvadorans and help them return home; however, a sudden inflow of 250,000 individuals to El Salvador could spark another mass migration to the U.S. and reinvigorate the crisis at the southern border. Taking into account these concerns, we have decided to provide additional time to work out that plan. We cannot allow the progress the President has made the past several months to be negated. Note the word progress used with Trump s efforts. How does that translate to no more hope ? Answer: it doesn t.It s a blatant attempt to sentimentalize the story and make out Trump to be evil (the unsubstantiated narrative of the left in general, and the New York Slimes sorry Times in particular). Once again, irresponsible journalism.

TAGS:Taking over the 

<<< Thank you for your visit >>>

Taking over the world and leaving it ruthlessly alone

Hot Websites