tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51597766310344153732024-03-26T22:46:48.995-07:00Edgar Allan Poe Community CollegeWelcome to the home page of Edgar Allan Poe Community College. We’re a paranormal trade school located in the charming desert town of Pahrump, Nevada. Nestled between sunny Death Valley and the historic Nevada Proving Grounds, site of 900 nuclear explosions, and at the epicenter of Nye County’s thriving brothel industry, EAPCC offers an unparalleled range of educational and recreational opportunities. The janitor is Peter Fenton.Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-62780533927230639862024-03-26T19:51:00.000-07:002024-03-26T19:51:59.951-07:00Imaginary friends saved their marriage.<p> </p><div style="border: solid #D9D9E3 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 0in 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Once upon a time there was a couple named Jack
and Jill (<i>names have been changed to protect privacy).</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jack and Jill had been married for 10 years and their relationship had become
a bit dull. They had grown tired of each other's company and were finding it
harder and harder to find things to talk about.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One day, while out on a walk, they decided to liven things up by
including a pair of imaginary friends. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jack's imaginary friend was named Bob and he was a wise-cracking
trouble-maker. Jill's imaginary friend was named Sue and she was a sweet and
nurturing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">old soul</i>. While similar in
age and attractiveness to Jack and Jill, Bob and Sue were each two feet taller.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At first, Jack and Jill were a bit skeptical about their new
companions, but soon they found that their imaginary friends had breathed new
life into their relationship. They found themselves laughing and having fun
together again, all thanks to Bob and Sue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They would go on adventures with their imaginary friends and would
even have them join them on date nights. They would tell each other about the things
that Bob and Sue did and said and it brought them closer together.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bob and Sue were always by Jack and Jill’s side, making sure that
the spark in their relationship never died out. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One would think that at this point Jack and Jill’s marriage was
saved and they lived happily ever after. Instead, conflict arose on multiple
fronts:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Jealousy: Jack and Jill's imaginary friends were always around,
and they were starting to get jealous of the attention they were receiving.
They felt like they were being replaced by their own creations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Different interests: Bob and Sue had different interests and
personalities, which led to conflicts between Jack and Jill. Bob loved to go
out and party while Sue loved to stay home and read. Jack and Jill found it
hard to compromise and make plans together.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Secrets: Bob and Sue were privy to Jack and Jill’s inner thoughts
and feelings, which led to some secrets being kept between them and their
imaginary friends. This led to trust issues and arguments between Jack and Jill.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Dependence: Over time, Jack and Jill became increasingly
dependent on their imaginary friends for companionship and entertainment. This
led to them neglecting their responsibilities and relationships in the real
world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Imaginary Friends’ Agenda: Bob and Sue had their own agenda and
sometimes it conflicted with Jack and Jill’s plans and goals. This increased
tensions and disagreements between them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Reality vs. Imagination: Jack and Jill found themselves
struggling to differentiate between what was real and what was imagined. This
led to confusion and frustration in their relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Acceptance from others: Jack and Jill’s friends and family had a
hard time accepting the idea of their imaginary friends, which led to isolation
and alienation from their loved ones. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">*Control: Jack and Jill found it hard to control their imaginary
friends, and they often acted out in ways that Jack and Jill found embarrassing
or inappropriate.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The relationship had reached a breaking point. After
considerable thought, Jack and Jill decided they needed a time-out from Bob and
Sue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bob and Sue were initially a bit disappointed.
They enjoyed being a part of Jack and Jill's life and didn't want to lose the
special connection they had with them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div style="border: solid #D9D9E3 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 0in 23.0pt;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 23.0pt; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But as they saw the positive effects the changes had on Jack and
Jill, they realized that it was for the best. They understood that Jack and
Jill's relationship needed to come first and that they were just a fun addition
to it, not a replacement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 23.0pt; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As time passed, though, Bob and Sue became increasingly
dissatisfied with the new arrangement. They missed the closeness and attention
they used to get with Jack and Jill and felt like they were being pushed to the
sidelines. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div>
<div style="border: solid #D9D9E3 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 0in 0in;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They started to feel neglected and unimportant, and this caused
them to become resentful towards Jack and Jill. They began to act out and cause
mischief in an attempt to regain their attention. Despite Jack and Jill's
attempts to address the couple’s concerns, Bob and Sue couldn't shake off their
dissatisfaction. They started to feel like they were no longer needed in Jack
and Jill's life and began to look for other ways to fill the void.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Eventually, Bob and Sue decided to move in with Jack and Jill's
neighbors, a couple named Tim and Sarah, who were more than happy to have them.
Like Jack and Jill, Tim and Sarah had reached a low point in their
relationship. Bob and Sue saw an opportunity to fill that void as their
imaginary friends.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At first, Jack and Jill were relieved that Bob and Sue had found new
pals. They understood that their imaginary friends needed to find their own way
and happiness. Furthermore, they realized that their own relationship was
strong enough to survive without them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet nothing is ever so simple. As Jack and Jill
saw Bob and Sue's cozy new relationship with Tim and Sarah flourish, they
couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. They began to resent Tim and Sarah
for taking their imaginary friends away from them and started to look for ways
to subvert their relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They would often make negative comments about Tim and Sarah when
Bob and Sue dropped by for a chat, hoping to plant seeds of doubt in their
minds. They also started to compete with Tim and Sarah by trying to outdo them
in activities and outings, in an attempt to show Bob and Sue that they were
still fun and exciting to be around.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Their efforts were in vain. Bob and Sue were happy in their new
relationship and didn't want to be pulled back into the past. They were
grateful to Jack and Jill for the time they had spent together but were looking
forward to a bright future with Tim and Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jack and Jill eventually realized that their jealousy and
resentment were only hurting themselves. Recognizing the futility of trying to
subvert Bob and Sue's new relationship, Jack and Jill decided to take a
different approach in dealing with the loss of their imaginary friends. They
decided to "play the bar scene" so to speak and explore the
possibility of finding new imaginary friends to fill the void.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They started trying out new activities and hobbies, and meeting
new imaginary people.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Through these experiences, Jack and Jill discovered that there
were many other imaginary friends out there, just waiting to be discovered.
They found that by keeping an open mind and a positive attitude, they were able
to connect with a diverse group of imaginary friends, with their own unique
personalities and interests.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jack and Jill started to have fun again and to rediscover the joys
of companionship. They also realized that by expanding their social circle,
they were also expanding their own horizons and learning new things about
themselves and the world around them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As they moved on, they looked back on their relationship with Bob
and Sue with fondness and gratitude. They understood that it had been a special
and important chapter in their lives, but that it was time to create new
memories with new imaginary friends. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Reported by: </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Dawnlee Hope, Jr. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Grad Student Paranormal Journalism Program </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid #D9D9E3 .25pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 0in 0in; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
</div>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-52029722396879036012024-03-23T14:29:00.000-07:002024-03-23T14:29:17.038-07:00Crop Circles Appear On Hairy Guy's Back.<p> <span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I’m a man with an excess body hair problem that has made me the object of ridicule since puberty. At the age of thirteen, when most of my buddies sported a whisker or two, I grew a full hipster beard to hide my acne. I became successful with girls, I guess, as sort of a whiskery novelty item. They called me the Bearded Man, like I was some kind of sideshow act. They kept coming around, so I didn’t mind.</span></p><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">But things went haywire over the next few years. By the age of sixteen, I had thick tufts of wiry black hair on the top of my shoulders and so much “fur” on my torso and legs that the gym coach made me wear a full-body wet suit during swim class. He said he was worried my loose hairs would clog the filter, but I think he did it just to humiliate me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I became an introvert. After graduating from high school, I took a job as a night janitor in an empty office tower so no one could see me. I threw in the towel and gave up on shaving. One Christmas I dyed my beard white and played Santa Claus at a shopping mall. I wound up being so popular with the kids that I quit my janitor gig. Now, I’m already booked solid for the next two holiday seasons. Amazingly, I earn enough as Santa Claus every winter to take the summer months off—when I allow my beard to go back to black.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">This is where my problems with crop circles began. My confidence renewed, I started going out more, even venturing to the beaches of Lake Michigan near where I live. I’m sure I must have been a ridiculous sight to some eyes, what with thick body hair everywhere, but secretly knowing I was the Midwest’s #1 Santa Claus helped their wisecracks roll off my back.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Then, a few days ago, while on my favorite remote part of the beach, I woke up from a pleasant slumber to notice something strange on my back. Parts of it were completely bare. Large clumps of hair were in the sand surrounding my towel. I ran to my car two hundred yards away. Looking in the rear view mirror, I got the surprise of my life: an intricate pattern had been shaved on my back hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">I thought I had been the victim of pranksters until I saw an online photo of a crop circle that had appeared in a farmer’s wheat field. Shockingly, it was the exact same pattern that had been fashioned in my body hair this September. I tried to find who had posted the picture with no success. It appeared have been generated from somewhere in Eastern Europe. And it was gone when I searched again just before creating this post. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">That, to say the least, was a crushing disappointment. However, I will swear to this day that the same entities that created the crop circle in the farmer’s wheat field cut the pattern on my back.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">While I feel honored that I was chosen as the first human “canvas” for their mysterious art, I am now afraid to go outside for fear they will strike again. And Christmas is coming up soon. I’m terrified I’ll have to cancel all my Santa Claus bookings. My sole source of income will disappear. I’ll get evicted from my apartment. Where will I hide then?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Here’s what I’m urgently trying to get through to all readers of my cautionary tale:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">This is a horror story not just for me, but for all hirsute men.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">by: Anonymous</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Transcribed by Dawnlee Hope, Jr. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Paranormal Journalism Curriculum</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</span></div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-52484176031536232962024-03-19T19:13:00.000-07:002024-03-19T19:13:42.496-07:00Never Trust Anyone Over the Age of Fifteen.<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Birth certificate, please!”</span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Huh? What?” the suspect replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He had the beginnings of crow’s feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Reasonable suspicion.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“You know what I mean. Your birth certificate or I’m locking you up.” I pushed him face-first against the cinder block wall, jerked his hands behind his balding head and secured his wrists with plastic restraints.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“You’re hurting me,” he yelped.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Not as much as I will if you don’t cough up your papers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Who the hell goes walking around with his birth certificate?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Everybody, since the edict. You know that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“I heard. But I thought it was bullshit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Please. There’ve been warnings for the past two weeks since your bankrupt little town sold itself as a test case. Billboards. Radio and TV spots. Op-eds. Your city fathers signed a contract on the dotted line with the billionaire that I work for.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Mr. App? He’s only sixteen-f*****g years old. I don’t give a damn what he wants.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“He owns this town. You’re on private property. His property.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Okay. Okay. I know. But I didn’t give <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> consent. Asking me to carry around my birth certificate is stupid. And a gross invasion of privacy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Then you shouldn’t have stayed when Mr. App seized control.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I nodded to my assistants, one a certified eighteen-year-old, the other a confirmed fifteen, with massive biceps that belied his tender age. They forced the uncooperative suspect to the ground. I dug my knee into the small of his back as the trainees executed a textbook body search. They had absorbed their training well.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Got it,” Fifteen said, raising a humid plastic baggie with a square of paper inside. “He taped it to his cottage cheese ass.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Cellulite. Another warning sign that’s he’s overage,” Eighteen chimed in. He wasn’t as bright or as strong as his younger team member, but he was down with the program.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Make sure,” I advised. Maintaining a firm grip, I turned the suspect face up.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Fifteen opened the baggie. Scowling, he unfolded the stinking, damp document. “Bingo,” he said, raising a thumb. “Looks genuine. Has the official stamp.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“What’s the bottom line?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Twenty six years, three months and seven days old. You’re busted, dude,” he said, waving the document in the confirmed elderly male’s face. While younger than his co-worker, he had a thuggish enthusiasm and a strong will to succeed. I could see him rising high in the organization by, say, the age of eighteen.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I grabbed the suspect by the lapels of his <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Members Only</i> shirt. “Why the f**k didn’t you come clean in the first place? You could’ve saved yourself all this grief.” I slapped his cheek with a back of a hand. I wanted to show my assistants I was tough, that I could still kick ass at my relatively advanced age.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“I--I thought I’d pass,” he replied, shaking with fear. My girlfriend says I look like a high school senior.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“With those crow’s feet? I had you spotted a mile away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Can’t you cut me some slack? I’m only a little over the age line. I have money, if that’s what you want. I’ll show you where I keep it back home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Law’s the law, dude. Over twenty-five and it’s the detention center for you. You’ve aged out. Take him away, boys.” That said, I tucked in the blouse of my Sherwood green uniform. Mr. App liked his troops neat and clean, to subvert the traditional notion that the young were degenerate slobs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">My decision, a reasonable, law-abiding decision, enraged Fifteen. “That’s it? Just take him away? He tried to bribe us just now. We should f***k him up. Teach him to respect his youngers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He reared back to perform a body slam. I shouldered him away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Again?” he fumed. “Every time we arrest one of these jerks, you hold me back. You’re getting soft. You’re getting—you’re getting—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">too old for this work</i>. That’s it. What age are you, anyway?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Twenty-two,” I answered, restraining myself. Mr. App looked fondly upon Fifteen, seeing him as the ruthless wave of the future, the type of hooligan required to implement the program when it went live nationwide. If I beat him up now, even though I might need a length of two-by-four to seal the deal, I might wind up in hot water with the boss. “Take the Confirmed Elderly in and book him. That’s a direct order. We’ll talk later, okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“We sure will. And it won’t end there. I’m taking this up the chain of command.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Be my guest,” I answered, feigning a lack of concern as he and Eighteen dragged the old man away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Inside, though, I was clutching. Fifteen had pull. There was no telling how he might twist my words, make it seem to Mr. App that I was no longer dedicated to the cause. That I was over the hill.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Fifteen and Eighteen took a left turn at next block, heading towards the complex of grain silos converted by Mr. App into internment camps for Confirmed Elderly over the age of twenty-five. It was there that Twenty-Six would be processed and incarcerated among a collection of elderly, raging from his age up to Gen X and Baby Boomers—the worst of the worst.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Yes, the Movement had come that far. This was the beta version of a society that had once been no more than a youthful dream. A society run by and for the young. Those of us who’d had it up to here with classic rock, Nirvana, Tony Hawk Pro Skater 5—the burdensome nostalgia culture that weighed upon us like solid stone, breaking our backs with the frivolous nonsense of dying generations that refused to get out of the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Suddenly spent, I slid down the cinder block wall, lit a Camel (my only concession to the 25+ world) and inhaled. The battle, while just, was exhausting me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">My head drooped, my eyelids teetered on the edge of closing. A power nap right now might refresh me for the struggle ahead. I no longer got a rush from kicking butt 24/7, as did Fifteen, who epitomized boundless energy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Then the citywide P.A. system crackled to life. A powerful voice raised a familiar cry: “Assemble all ye who are vital and young!” and I felt refreshed and ready to carry on. It was Mr. App, the sixteen-year-old game changer whose master plan had made me drop everything—my job, my girlfriend, my parents, my student loans, to join the great cause.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Mr. App’s message had intoxicated me, an unemployed, overeducated young man simmering with thwarted ambition. His dispatches were simple, yet, to me, made perfect sense. By placing those over age twenty-five in internment camps, we could overcome the vexing problems facing callow mankind. His plan would:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">*Reduce traffic gridlock. Fewer drivers equaled safer streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">*Increase the stock of affordable housing. Empty homes would turn major cities into buyers’ markets overnight. Instead of squeezing into an 850 square foot apartment with six of your best friends, you could fit the same number in a seven-bedroom, 6,000 sq. ft. McMansion with room to spare—and money left over.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">*Make for better salaries, quicker promotions. Incarcerating the elderly would eliminate the seniority system overnight. Can you say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">instant V.P.?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Mr. App’s texts had captured the imaginations of thousands, if not millions like me. However, as testimony to his infinite wisdom, Mr. App knew that implementation would be a bear. So, after taking a vow of silence, a special few of us had been selected to take part in this pilot project in a small town far from prying eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">To further bolster privacy, Mr. App had purchased the city, paid every local yokel $500 U.S. and told them they would be playing starring roles in the pilot episode of a revolutionary, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Survivor</i> on steroids” reality show.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">The surrounding five-square miles was patrolled by armed cops. Curious outsiders and relatives were allowed inside only after signing iron-clad nondisclosure agreements and surrendering any communications gear. They too, were paid, though a lesser amount, after a committee of long-term residents complained.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">All complied, thrilled that this nowhere town and its dead-end inhabitants were on the pathway to Hollywood fame. Perhaps some of the glitter would rub off on them. Greed kept their lips sealed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">The sound of Mr. App’s mesmerizing baritone filled me with glee, as it had when I’d first heard him speak six months before. I buried my Camels (so I wouldn’t be caught in his presence with generational contraband) and sprinted as fast as I could towards the town square.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Others like me, youthful, in green uniforms, spilled from homes and alleyways, suspending raids for the more important task of heeding our master’s call. In short order, the streets were filled with hundreds of us, of all ages, as long as they didn’t exceed twenty-five. Seventeens, Eighteens, Twelves and Twenty-twos—ran, whooped and cried tears of joy in eager anticipation of Mr. App’s always inspiring words.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">We formed a swirling, excited mass in the town square, battling each other for precious real estate near the stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">A dispute broke out, Fifteen and his rough crew wading in, bringing order with truncheons. The resonant sound of skulls being thwacked punctuated the festive atmosphere. Foreheads bleeding profusely, the chastened revelers staggered back to their feet. Dedicated acolytes of Mr. App, nothing, not even traumatic brain injury, could deter them from hearing him speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">And then…it happened! As if from out of nowhere—from heaven, from hell, Mr. App appeared on stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Hoping he’d notice me, I began the traditional welcoming cheer:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Never trust anyone over twenty-five.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Never trust anyone over twenty-five.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Soon, hundreds of us were chanting in unison, weeping tears of joy, straining forward, only to dash away when Fifteen and his merry band swung their truncheons to prevent us from storming the stage and kissing Mr. App’s bare, flower-bedecked feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He joined us in the chant, this pudgy young man more junior sumo wrestler than tech magnate. Barely 5’2”, Mr. App sported a mop of black hair, pearly white teeth and a deep, resonant voice that seemed to make the earth tremble beneath us. He didn’t need a mic to reach the far edges of the throng.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">And then he addressed us directly, as if seized by a revelation, an epiphany, of earth-shaking import.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No more are we followers under the thumb of those whose sole merit is that they were born before us. We are taking the reins. From now on, the elder ones pull the plow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Amen!” a female voice cried. She was quickly shushed, handcuffed and removed by Fifteen. Scattered applause followed, until those impolite few were also cuffed and dragged away by Fifteen’s ubiquitous team. Mr. App was not to be interrupted mid-thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He continued as if nothing had happened. “They said it couldn’t be done. This,” he said, indicating the crowd. “They believed you didn’t have the guts. That you would always be compliant daughters and sons.” He guffawed, baring his perfect and allegedly capped teeth. “Man oh man, were they wrong. Correct?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Yes, yes, yes,” we replied in unison, having been trained to respond in triplicate when invited to speak by Mr. App.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Just like they were wrong when they said that an overweight Fourteen—me—couldn’t develop a billion-dollar app. Correct?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Yes, yes, yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“And that a young punk—again me—couldn’t attract a consortium of private—very—private Wall Street investors to provide me with seed money to create an app that they didn’t understand. And never will, because I refuse to tell them what it is or what it does. Which is a bold stance on my part that has created a worldwide financial buzz. My app is now valued at over ten billion, of which two or three billion are mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He smiled. “At least that’s what my mom says. Because she still keeps the books.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Several audience members gasped. They were quickly muscled off the scene by Fifteen and crew.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Just kidding,” Mr. App continued. “Mom’s forty-five and under house arrest. Along with the rest of the seniors in my extended family, including my cousin, a Thirty Three. Because I’m serious about this endeavor. So serious I changed my legal name to Mr. App. So serious that I lied to my elderly investors and told them that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>, the young, loved the app, even though that’s impossible because I haven’t completed it yet. And probably never will because I’m already a billionaire, so why bother? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, you know what I mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I started to chant “yes, yes, yes,” but thought the better of it when Fifteen strolled by, slapping his truncheon and giving me the fisheye.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“How can I help you?” I asked, maintaining a happy face while seething inside. I hated the guy. Insolent. Inexperienced. But the little snot had quickly climbed in the ranks. Why? Who did he know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Looked as if you were going to say something. You know that isn’t allowed when Mr. App is addressing us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“I was preparing to agree with him but stopped. Is it now a crime to flutter one’s lips? Please enlighten me if the rules have changed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Brandishing his truncheon, Fifteen took a giant step in my direction. His downy cheeks brushed against my stiff, expansive beard. “My, my, my. The old geezer has such a smart mouth. Think we should do something to shut it, boys?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Before I could react, Fifteen was joined by a dozen other members of his thuggish gang. They ranged in age from Fifteens down to Tens. But even the youngest sported hardened faces and lean, bare arms. These were the most enthusiastic, most vicious foot soldiers of the coming revolution and they appeared to hang on Fifteen’s every word.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Let me take care of him, boss,” a beefy Eleven asked, his voice breaking with deep emotion and budding puberty. “This Twenty-two is half my size and twice my age. I could handle him easily.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Kneeling down, he began pounding the ground with his truncheon. His fellow warriors joined in, as if drumming their weapons helped prepare them for battle. I spun around, noticing for the first time that the town square had been infiltrated by massive numbers of the very young.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I unsheathed my steel baton, disbelieving that I was about to be hit by friendly fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Attack!” Fifteen yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">His troops charged towards me, truncheons pointed out.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Stop!” a cute female Eighteen screamed, inserting herself between me and Fifteen’s advancing goons. Spinning around, fierce with passion, she asked, “Have you all gone mad? We’re supposed to be fighting the elderly, not ourselves.” She flourished a homemade oaken sword, its blade painted the colors of deadly nightshade. “Anyone who wants to fight will have to get through me first.” She turned my way. “Including you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Sighing, I did.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“And you. Stand down,” she declared, addressing Fifteen. With great reluctance, he nodded to his hordes, now numbering fifty. They backed away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Mr. App’s booming voice brought us all to our senses. “Boys and girls, boys and girls,” he said in an admonishing, fatherly tone. “I appreciate high spirits, but these nonsensical domestic disputes need to end. Twenty-twos fighting Twenty-fours, Fifteens fighting Twenty-twos. We’re supposed to be one big family under one big tent. This movement was meant to pit the young against the elderly, not the young against the young. Come up here, my quarrelsome children. Come on the stage,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Is he talking to us?” the pretty Eighteen asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Think so.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“I can’t believe it. I’ve never been close to him before. Would you take my hand? I’m a bundle of nerves.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Uh…sure,” I answered, suddenly nervous myself. Other than to bark orders, I hadn’t talked to a girl since the Movement began, let alone held a hand as warm and pleasurable as pretty Eighteen’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">As if feeling the same, she smiled at me and quickly looked away. “Can I ask you a question if you promise not to tell?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“What’s your real name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Ethan,” I said, even though doing so could get us locked up.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Matilda,” she responded, smiling, making sure to keep her eyes on the ground. I knew then and there that I would never forget Matilda, even though, after tonight, I might never see her again. There was a war to be fought. Who knew where we would be assigned?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Our group, now numbering around five dozen Fifteens, Matilda and me, filed onto the wide stage. Reluctantly, I released her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Pomp and Circumstance,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> a 20<sup>th</sup> century composition the production crew had mistakenly let slip past, boomed over the P.A. The sun was setting and torches had been lit. The dramatic, flickering glow transformed Mr. App into a mystical deity, notwithstanding his ample girth and virulent acne. It was as if he had descended from a far better place than planet Earth, with its soul-killing seniority systems and apprenticeships.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">The music stopped abruptly.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Mr. App folded his arms. Face impassive, he surveyed the multitudes. A full minute passed. He cleared his throat. Fell silent again, watching us, weighing our merits. Then, anticipation at a fever pitch, he deigned to speak. “I’ve been thinking as the combatants came on stage,” Mr. App intoned, chin in his hand. “I have good news. And bad news.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">All those assembled moaned, even me. I glanced sideways at Matilda. Her mouth remained closed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Bad news first.” Mr. App sobbed. Tense seconds passed. Then, blubbering, shedding tears, struggling to get words out, he said, “The policy of never trusting anyone over twenty-five has failed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He paused, then added, drawing out every word, “It—doesn’t—go—far—enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Fifteen applauded. His thugs followed suit.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Recent events have shown dissension within the youth cohort. The old-young,” he nodded at me, “are getting in the way of the overzealous-young.” He indicated Fifteen. “And when it comes to fulfilling our noble cause, a little overzealousness never hurt, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Right!” Fifteen and crew bellowed. They began pounding the stage with their truncheons. Countless <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">overzealous-young </i>pressed against the crowd barriers, desperate to join in. A stage hand gave Fifteen an overloaded black bag. He emptied it of complimentary truncheons that he tossed into frothing crowd. The din became something only Mr. App’s voice could overcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Therefore,” he concluded, “in order to ensure we achieve our noble goal I am, at this very moment, changing our slogan to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Never Trust Anyone Over Twenty.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“All of those who have just received truncheons begin arresting anyone above that age.” With that, the torches were doused and Mr. App strutted off the darkened stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Imagine an army of Fifteen and Under anarchists trying to initiate a new youth order and you have only any inkling of the madness that unfolded that night.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I, of course, was arrested, by Fifteen no less, for the crime of aging out. Adding to the insult, Matilda was forced by him to tighten the cuffs. She was then stripped of her sword, issued a truncheon and ushered off the stage to make arrests until there were no more to be made.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">She uttered but one parting word, and that, I swear, was “Ethan.” I replied, enthusiastically, whole-heartedly, “Matilda,” after which I was severely beaten. I can only hope that she did not experience the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Three weeks later:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I’m still recovering from my wounds. I stand all day and curl up at night in the two feet by three feet space on the concrete floor inside the wire cage I share with one hundred and ten other newly-minted old men.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">The stress is overwhelming. It’s shameful to admit this, but I’ve started to hope the Forty-seven on the floor to my right dies because his space—and I measured it, is an expansive 3’X4’. As they were carting away his body, I’d seize it as my own.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Even more crushing, I have no idea where Matilda is or if she even remembers me. While we had only one brief meeting, I’ve come to love her dearly. The thought that I might one day hold her hand again keeps me from smashing my cranium against the unforgiving floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Four weeks later:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I woke up to feel a new detainee pressed against me, shivering under a tiny space blanket. Irritated that the new fish had invaded my precious privacy, I gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. Grumbling, he rolled over to face me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">My god! It was Mr. App, stripped to his underwear. His eyes were bloodshot. He was covered with scrapes and bruises.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“What the f**k are you doing here?” I said, scrambling away, banging into another neighbor, who shoved me back into my own space.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“I aged out,” Mr, App said, cringing as if I was going to hurt him again.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“You’re sixteen!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Fifteen and his crew seized power in a palace coup. They changed the Movement slogan to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never trust anyone over fifteen</i>. Said old folks like me had screwed everything up. They even had my overseas bank accounts transferred over to them. I’m broke.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">He began to cry. “Twenty-six percent of the world’s population is under fifteen. And kids at that stage of development live only for today. They lack planning skills. They’ll never overthrow the system because they don’t even care. Give them a skateboard and they’re happy as clams. They’re skate-f**k-boarding nihilists, I tell you.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Sounds like me when I was that age,” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Because of them, everything I’ve worked for is going down the tubes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“And you sound like my dad,” I said, bitterly amused. Mr. App’s youth movement was eating its own tail. Who’d seize power when Fifteen aged out? The six-year-olds? The Prince George generation? I joined Mr. App in crying. The futility of it all!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">But what of Matilda? Where was she now that she, too, was of an unacceptable age?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Incarcerated like us, in the women’s sector,” Mr. App said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Enraged, I stood up. Matilda’s personality was too big to be cooped up in a 2’X3’ space. Inevitably, she’d lash out at her immature guards, and that would be the end of her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Mr. App pulled me back down. “Hold on. She’s okay. Fifteen is protecting her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“You can’t be serious.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">“Fifteen has a fatal flaw for a man in his position. He has a thing for older women. And Matilda’s exploiting that flaw to the hilt. Which reminds me that she wanted me to give you this.” He extracted a note from his underwear.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I read it with barely restrained joy:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dearest Ethan:<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My hand aches for your warm touch.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But never fear.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We shall be together soon, if I have my way.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More than that I cannot say.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Age is but a number.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yours forevermore,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matlida aka Pretty Eighteen<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Matilda and I have been communicating through the prison grapevine since then. I’ve even seen her from a distance once. She was, of course, as beautiful as ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">It is because of Matilda and her expedient relationship with Fifteen that this message has found its way to you.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">For the time being, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Age War</i> is contained within this secret, small community. But one day the fight will spread into society at large.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">The social order you take for granted.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">It’s a nightmare scenario that may be happening already, for all I know.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I apologize for helping this twisted youth movement to metastasize.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">That said, I hope and pray you heed my final words of advice:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">The next time you cross paths with a Fifteen, be afraid. Be very afraid. They might not be as innocent as they look.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">And for god’s sake, don’t turn your back on a Fifteen. The next thing you feel may be a truncheon crashing down upon your skull.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">After which, you’ll wake up in here. Alongside me and Mr. App.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">We’ve become friends—brothers in old age—and we’ll respect your personal space.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Our friend in old age.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">By: Anonymous</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">As told to:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Doc Paranormal</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Adjunct Professor without Portfolio</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</span></div><div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><br /></span></div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-84431280402816801982024-02-29T19:57:00.000-08:002024-02-29T19:57:17.860-08:00Woman becomes invisible spontaneously.<p> Unfortunately, scientific studies have shown there is no way to turn invisible by choice.</p><p>But a prominent hypnotherapist claims there have been cases of <i>spontaneous</i> invisibility. She's received numerous reports of the phenomena, including the case of "Vera," who experienced a strange physical sensation while watching TV on her couch. </p><p>When the odd feeling ended, Vera's husband asked where she'd been. He'd been sitting in a nearby wingchair for fifteen minutes, but had not seen her.</p><p>The reality: Vera had become invisible without knowing it!</p><div>Doc Paranormal<br />Adjunct Professor without Portfolio<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community College</div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-82877251849828296312024-01-19T20:15:00.000-08:002024-01-19T20:16:31.459-08:00Ukraine Defeats Russia in Fierce "Mental Boxing" Tournament.<p>While Russia is not shy about flexing its military might, the nation's paranormal research effort is lacking. Shocking evidence of this can be found in the results of a so-called "mental boxing" tournament recently conducted between Russia and arch-rival Ukraine.</p>Seven bouts were conducted. Each bout consisted of one soldier from each side placed in locked rooms approximately 100 meters apart. The soldiers had extensive training in <i>combat telekinesis</i> (aggressively moving physical objects with mind power).<br /><br />The men were visible to spectators. Referees would signal the soldiers to "punch" one another.<br /><br />In the first preliminary match, two minutes of inactivity were suddenly interrupted when the Russian soldier recoiled as if he'd been struck by an invisible fist. His nose began to bleed and he was too dazed to continue. The Ukrainian won by a TKO.<br /><br />The Ukrainian team swept all but one of the remaining matches. The brutal main bout sent the Russian contender to an undisclosed hospital for internal bleeding incurred after dozens of crushing mental hits to the torso.<div><br /></div><div>There has yet to be public reaction from Putin or Zelenskyy.<br /><br />reported by Doc Paranormal<br />Adjunct Professor without Portfolio</div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-74873498274146230882024-01-16T19:15:00.000-08:002024-01-16T19:15:41.431-08:00Some people are psychic--and HATE IT!<p> The syndrome, called "psychic self-hate," by paranormal psychologists, refers to the tendency of some psychically-gifted people to deny or disguise their abilities. </p><p>In experiments, some psychic self-haters give so many <i>wrong</i> answers that it simply proves their mind-boggling talent!</p><p>In one real-life case, a woman went on a date to a horse race track. She didn't know anything about horses or betting. Yet, when her date prodded her to make bets, she purposely bought tickets for losing horses--even though she wrote down on notepaper which horses would actually win.</p><p>In six out of seven cases, she was correct--but she didn't tell her date because she found him attractive--and thought her extraordinary psychic ability would scare him away!</p><p>Doc Paranormal</p>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-83972589316144323172023-04-28T15:35:00.001-07:002023-04-28T15:45:18.553-07:00What it Means to Dream of Olde English 800<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Dreaming of Olde English 800 malt liquor indicates you're on the slippery slope of downward mobility. Your life is over, finished, whether you are 20 or 35. You have huge student loans, an education of limited monetary value and small hope of remaining a member of the middle class into which you were born.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;"> Silver lining: If you awakened from your dream with your face in the gutter, your mouth a receptacle for diluted urine and cigarette butts, you have nearly hit bottom.</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Dream On!</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Dawnlee Hope, Jr.</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Undergraduate Student</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Dream Interpretation Curriculum </span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</span><br /><br /><div></div><br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-78145914685709474312022-05-05T18:38:00.002-07:002022-05-05T18:38:36.051-07:00Revealed! Secret Ways Classic Carnival Games Are Rigged!<p> <span style="font-size: 14pt;">Ever wonder why you leave the carnival midway with no prizes in your arms—and no money left in your wallet? Well, it’s no accident that you didn’t win that stuffed bear or Dale Earnhardt Jr. t-shirt.</span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">I worked carnival games for several years of my misspent youth. A friend’s dad owned a traveling show. I joined up and did pretty well, netting, in commissions, anywhere from $300 to $500 per day (inflation adjusted). And all I did was apply the same middle-class worth ethic that had earned me lots of As and membership in Mensa.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Carnival hucksters aren’t stupid. They’ve got street smarts and years of experience hoodwinking ‘rubes’ into believing they can win something for nothing. And the games they entice you to play always give them the advantage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Not every carnival game is rigged. But all of them are created to give the carnie the house advantage—and leave you with empty hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Here are insider secrets that could prevent you from getting f****d over on classic carnival games:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>GUESS YOUR WEIGHT GAME: The secret to this game is that the carnie doesn’t care whether he guesses your weight correctly or not. With rare exceptions, the prize you win when he makes a ‘mistake’ cost him less than what you paid to play!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonus if you have a bad body image: the carnie will always flatter you by dramatically underestimating your weight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BASKETBALL THROW: There are many tricks to this game. The hoop is often a touch too small, the backboard is not regulation height and the ball is either over or under inflated.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you love the sight of dejected high school jocks, watch from the sidelines.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>MILK BOTTLE THROW: The three milk bottles you need to knock down with a softball are not all the same weight. Often, the bottom bottles are weighted down with lead, making them difficult to topple.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But of course, you already knew that. I hope.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>CATS ON A SHELF: This throwing game requires you to knock sawdust-stuffed ‘cats’ off a shelf with a baseball. In extreme cases, the carnie controls a hydraulic lever that can extend the width of the shelf, making it impossible for the ‘cat’ to fall completely <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">off</i> the shelf.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I paid for my college education with this one. Of course, I had to dodge a few baseballs thrown at my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BALLOON DART: When the player pops a balloon with a dart, he wins the prize described on a tag that’s revealed. Unscrupulous carnies simply ‘palm’ any tag that awards the player a major prize, replacing it with one awarding an insignificant prize.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A great game for teaching children that life is not fair.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>BUSHEL BASKET: To win this deceptively simple game, the player needs only to toss a softball into a common bushel basket so that the ball remains inside. However, a shifty carnie can secretly tighten the tension on the bottom of the bushel, causing the ball to pop out—and the player to lose.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>DIME TOSS or GLASS PITCH: People who play this game win a piece of tableware when the dime they toss into the center ring remains in one of the plates, glasses or bowls spread out before them. The only “fix” here is that it is very difficult to throw a dime in a way that it doesn’t skip out of the plate.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise known as a “grind store.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>CRANE GAME or “DIGGER”: This game asks the player to operate a scale-model crane in a glass case filled with prizes. The player wins as many prizes as he can scoop up with the shovel. Difficult to begin with, the game can be made even harder by a carnie who uses a screwdriver to tamper with the claws on the shovel, causing the prize to fall out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last week, I spotted one of these in a grocery store lobby.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ANY GAME RUN BY A GUY WHO DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A CARNIE: I specialized in these. Too varied and complicated to go into here—let’s just say they’re adult games where an individual can lose a few hundred $$ before he or she knows it. Typically the suckers are sophisticates who think they’re too smart to get taken on a carnival game. Like lawyers and M.F.A.s. I wrote about what it’s like operate one in a memoir published by Simon & Schuster, <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Eyeing-the-Flash/Peter-Fenton/9780743258555">Eyeing the Flash: The Making of a Carnival Con Artist.</a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>CARNIVAL FOOD: You pay the true price for eating this sh*t about two hours after leaving the midway.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><br /></span></div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-72518617416715386992021-12-23T19:25:00.003-08:002021-12-23T19:26:51.257-08:00Startled Christmas carolers spout Satanic slogans.<p><br /></p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #1a1a1b; font-family: "Noto Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0.25em; vertical-align: baseline;">An eastern European chorale group stopped all performances after shocked members spontaneously spouted Satanic slogans.</p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #1a1a1b; font-family: "Noto Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0.25em; vertical-align: baseline;">The choir of twenty was gathered on a village street, when, in the midst of <em class="_7s4syPYtk5hfUIjySXcRE" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">O Holy</em> <em class="_7s4syPYtk5hfUIjySXcRE" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Night</em>, the lead soprano began shouting demonic epithets.</p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #1a1a1b; font-family: "Noto Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0.25em; vertical-align: baseline;">After her head was secured in a plastic bag and she was dragged away, the choir launched into the jaunty <em class="_7s4syPYtk5hfUIjySXcRE" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Jingle Bell Rock.</em> However, during the second chorus, the entire group surprised onlookers by singing “Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock, s**k my satanic c**k around the clock.”</p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #1a1a1b; font-family: "Noto Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0.25em; vertical-align: baseline;">Other songs followed with more blasphemous lyrics inserted into familiar tunes, including:* “Hairy nuts roasted over an open fire…” * “I saw mommy ******* Santa Claus…” * “Rudolph the ****-nosed reindeer…” Members of the chorale group began crying and screaming over their inability to control their filthy mouths. Finally, as angry listeners pelted them with inch-thick candy canes, frozen snowballs, petrol-filled vodka bottles and flaming chestnuts that had just been roasted on an open fire, they clambered into a horse-drawn cart and fled.</p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #1a1a1b; font-family: "Noto Sans", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The choirmaster has cancelled all further public activities until the problem is sorted out. Meanwhile, five of the group’s twenty members, all superb tenors, have been burned alive in the village square. Needy bachelors were rewarded with the singers’ wives and homes.</p>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-88683224227128695832021-10-24T15:48:00.000-07:002021-10-24T15:48:45.226-07:00Lawyer Still Trick-Or-Treating At Age 45.<p> I have a sweet tooth the size of <st1:state>Alaska</st1:state>. That’s why when Halloween rolls around I break out the shopping bags and go begging.</p><p>Some people may say I suffer from a case of arrested development, but where on the law books is there a statute of limitations on trick-or-treating? I should know—I’m a lawyer.</p><p>At forty-five, it’s not easy to pretend I’m a kid. I’m five-ten and two hundred-plus pounds. In addition, I have the beginnings of a bald spot on the top of my head and a case of five o’clock shadow that’s impossible to disguise.</p><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But I’m nothing if not ingenious. Last year I taped wrapping paper and ribbon around some cardboard boxes and went as a stack of Christmas presents. All you could see of me were my baby blues through the eye holes. The optical illusion created by my arrangement of presents made it impossible to figure out my true height. I netted thirty pounds of candy after tossing out the fruit and related junk.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">One advantage of trick-or-treating at my age is that I have a longer stride and can cover more ground than the typical nine-year-old. Plus I keep an up-to-date database on the best and worst neighborhoods for candy that includes the number of lit and unlit porch lights, pumpkin sizes, types of treats and so on. Each year, I eliminate homes that have been declining in two or more categories and upload the results to my computer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I couldn’t pull off a successful night of begging without it. For instance, there’s a rich financier a few blocks away who always has full-size Hershey Bars. Consulting my computer before going out, I’m reminded that the financier’s maid and butler alternate at the door. Knowing this allows me to hit the house twice, if I time it right.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">As far as getting caught, the closest I ever came was three years ago at my parents’ house. My mother seemed to recognize my voice when I yelled “trick-or-treat!” But she’s elderly, so I just grabbed and ran before she could put it all together. Boy, were my underarms wet.</div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; orphans: auto; widows: auto;"><div style="margin: 0px;">But the best part of Halloween for me is the rest of the year. I can’t tell you how satisfying it is to offer a client candy from the Wedgwood jar on my desk, then pop some into my own mouth. With only me knowing my Halloween secret. </div><div style="margin: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin: 0px;">As told to Doc Paranormal</div><div style="margin: 0px;">Adjunct Professor-At-Large</div><div style="margin: 0px;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</div></div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-30528621800312342802021-05-28T19:48:00.002-07:002021-05-28T19:48:33.555-07:00A dire warning for newbie psychics.<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m afraid of amateur psychics. And a lot of them have
popped up during the pandemic. In an attempt to learn a well-paying new skill,
everyone from unemployed waitresses to out-of-work chicken slaughterers are
delving into the Other Side. With catastrophic results for the untrained
newbies and society at large.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can’t tell you how many of their unsuspecting
clients have been immeasurably harmed. People have gone insane when put into
contact with the wrong deceased relative. In one case, a female client wound up
channeling Ted Bundy when her spiritual adviser misspelled her dead father’s
name. The séance became a slaughterhouse as the client, acting on Bundy’s
orders, thrust a wrought-iron candleholder through the advisor’s skull.
Fortunately, no charges were brought against the client. Possessed, she was
considered a mere witness to Bundy’s mayhem.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In another case, a lonely male attempting to
materialize in a Hollywood starlet’s bedroom took a wrong turn on the astral
plane and instead emerged in the padded cell of a notorious sex criminal.
Prison guards discovered him comatose the following morning, wearing nothing
but a demure bridal veil of Kleenex and yellowed newspaper clippings.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m a veteran paranormal investigator warning all
psychic newbies to learn before you leap into the Great Unknowable. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Here are thirteen essential tips to get you started. Ignore
my advice and the results could be catastrophic on a very personal level. That
is, unless you want to summons the wrong spirits and turn your apartment into
the infinite cauldron of Hell: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Never ask an angel if you can borrow its wings.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Don’t carry your crystal ball in a bowling bag.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, werewolves do need a dog license.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Don’t play loud EVP noises after 10 p.m.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sterilize pins before inserting them into voodoo
dolls.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Never sit on a Faery’s lap.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Men: Don’t use psychokinesis to unbutton a woman’s
shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Women: Don’t slap a man’s face after intuiting his
thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Never ask the Devil if you can touch his tail. He
HATES that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Avoid telling Zeus you like Santa Claus better.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Martians prefer to be call “citizens of the noble
planet Mars.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mop up excess ectoplasm after a séance. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Cut off your hands to spite bad palm readers. I did.
And I haven’t been bothered by one of those foolish idiots since.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sincerely,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A reader in Canada</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-46575517175422143512021-02-10T12:12:00.006-08:002021-02-10T12:12:58.804-08:00You can catch someone else's mental problems.<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">You can catch someone else’s mental problems just as
you can catch a cold. But rest assured; it’s not the result of an evil spell.
Experts say you can absorb an individual’s mental disorder if you identify with
that person—on an unconscious level, you imitate his or her symptoms. Among the
problems that can be contagious are panic attacks, depression and anxiety.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Bottom line advice: Hang out with cheerful people!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Reported by: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Abraham
Tribesky, Ph.D.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">102-Year-Old
Psychiatrist to Deceased Hollywood Stars.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Emeritus
Professor, Afterlife Issues<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">EAPCC<o:p></o:p></span></p>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-15074933103791159332020-10-28T19:03:00.000-07:002020-10-28T19:03:03.748-07:00Countless people remember living in their mother's womb.<p>Researchers say that a Pre-Birth Experience is the memory someone has of an existence before he or she was born.</p><p>Amazingly, some of these individuals recall living in a beautiful spirit world where they were able to select their future parents.</p><p>Even more remarkable, 53 percent of people reporting PBEs say they have memories that start <i>before they were conceived. </i></p><div style="text-align: left;">Heatherleen Glade<br />Student/Teacher<br />Past-Life Studies<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community College</div>Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-69324571777660738322020-07-23T18:34:00.000-07:002020-07-23T18:34:42.471-07:00A ventriloquist's dummy talked me into marriage.<div class="MsoNormal">
His name is “Benjamin Byrd” and I love him more than words can say. Because of this wonderful woodenhead, I’m now the mother of three healthy children and the wife of a hardworking provider.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
It all started the day I met Ben’s shy, soft-spoken human pal “Cliff.” We worked together in different departments of a huge corporation. I first noticed him in the hallway: tall and good-looking with a boyish quality. I tried my girlish best to snare him into talking, but had no luck until we rode the elevator by ourselves one lunch hour.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Cliff sputtered and stammered but was finally able to ask for a date. I was elated. Unfortunately, the evening became a disaster when Cliff could barely get a word out and spilled his drink on my new dress.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote off the dress and the relationship until Cliff nervously invited me to play Frisbee with him and a friend in the park. I decided to give him one last chance, and an hour later met him sitting on a park bench. There was a patent-leather suitcase beside him.</div>
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“Looks like your friend is late,” I noted.</div>
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“No, he’s right here,” Cliff stammered. Then he eagerly opened the expensive-looking case and lifted out a wooden dummy with wavy hair, a bulbous nose and a goofy expression on his shiny face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The dummy’s mouth opened. “Hi, doll! Benjamin Byrd here. What’s a pretty thing like you doing with old stone face? He this week’s charity case?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I chuckled. “Don’t say that. Cliff’s a very sweet fellow.”</div>
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“He’s sweet, all right,” Ben cackled, “sweet as a freakin’ lemon.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I laughed again. Amazingly, I then proceeded to enjoy an hour’s conversation with Ben, whom I found to be witty, charming, and quite a wonderful companion. I was impressed that Cliff’s lips didn’t move the entire time. He was very talented.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Over the ensuing weeks and months, Ben and I talked endlessly almost every day. Through Ben, I came to know Cliff very well. This magic time climaxed when Ben asked me to marry Cliff. I’ll never forget Cliff down on one knee with Ben perched on the other.</div>
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We were wed in a quiet civil ceremony, with Ben, of course, the best man in a tiny tuxedo I sewed for the occasion.</div>
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<br />
We’ve been married for eight years now, with three happy kids. (He may not be much of a talker, but there are some great things Cliff can do on his own!) Sometimes, when we really want to get romantic, Cliff, Ben and I snuggle under a blanket in front of the fireplace—not too close to the roaring fire, of course! Cliff and I let Benjamin do all the talking while we kiss and cuddle.<br />
<br />
by: Anonymous<br />
as told to Doc Paranormal</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-48784336333736188422020-06-16T18:59:00.002-07:002020-06-16T18:59:43.629-07:00I Fell Madly in Love with my Abusive Husband's Cadaver.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">It was a silly little mistake. I was trying to nail my
husband’s favorite selfie to the wall when the hammer slipped and I pierced his
forehead with the claw. He was standing immediately behind me, micromanaging as
usual.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">He collapsed on the apartment floor, the claw embedded
deeply in his thick skull. Placing one foot on his cranium, I wiggled it out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">This, in turn, produced copious bleeding, like a water
bubbler gurgling above his left eye. All of which saturated the Persian rug
he’d insisted we buy with my already overextended Capital One credit card. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Determined to limit the damage to the apartment (and
my security deposit), I dragged him into the bathtub, where he, at last, bled
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Pitying him for once, I gave his pale body a sponge
bath, cleaning him thoroughly in a way he seldom did himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Weak with shock, I filled the bath with hot water
until it covered us both to our chins. I, of course held his up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">I stared my husband for hours that turned into days.
His visage collapsed and his body stiffened. I lost my fear that he’d grab me
by the throat as he often had when I’d done something “bad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Then things got weird: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">I fell madly in love with the bastard again. Still and
cold, he was the man I’d always desired but never had. He was always home, never
asked for money and never complained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The bathtub, with its squalid water and terrible
stench, became our cozy little love nest. Frankly, it was the best time we’d
had together since he’d lost the key to our honeymoon hotel room and hadn’t
been able to rape me again that night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">No one, not even family, came to the apartment door.
My husband’s boasts and tirades had alienated everyone, including the Grubhub
and Doordash delivery guys. I subsisted on peanut butter, bread and my
new-found peace of mind. My husband, of course, required nothing but a daily
oiling to help preserve his drying skin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">But, as the philosophers say, all good things come to
an end. The police will be coming soon. I can almost smell it. And my neighbors
have probably started smelling my husband, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Perhaps, just perhaps, before I’m jailed, the cops
will let us renew our vows at a funeral home or crematorium. I can just see his
urn now, atop the wedding cake. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Hopefully, things will work out better between us next
time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">But that’s the beauty of loving a corpse. If you get
tired of one, you can always disinter another. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Bang!
Bang! <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Open up!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Cops at the door threatening to kick it in!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Just a minute. I’m not dressed,” I dragged my husband
into our bedroom. It wasn’t hard. He must have lost a hundred pounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“You have three minutes, lady. Then we’re breaking it
down. The building manager asked us to perform a welfare check. The hallway
stinks. Are you all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Better than ever,” I shouted, pulling on my old
wedding gown. Thank goodness, it still fit. Guess that was the silver lining to
my starvation diet of the past few weeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Bang!
Bang! Bang! <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Almost done!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Crash!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Moving like lightning, I stuffed my husband into his
tuxedo, pulled him to his feet and worked his mouth into a beaming smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The cops spilled into our marital bedroom, stopped and
stared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">My mind whirling, weeks of isolation shattered, it
seemed appropriate to ask, “Is the limo outside?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“The what?” the closest cop asked, finding his voice.
His badge said he was a sergeant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“The limo. To drive to us to the wedding. We’re
renewing our vows.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br />
“Uh…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">A female officer, mature and wise, pushed her way to
the fore. “Sure, honey. It’s downstairs waiting. We’re the police escort. We’ll
be clearing the route.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">She turned to the sergeant, softly tapping finger
against her temple. He nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">This irritated me. “Oh, so you think I’m crazy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Darlin’, what woman isn’t on her wedding day?” She
offered her arm. “C’mon, let’s walk downstairs. The sergeant here will help
your husband down. He looks a little peaked. We’ll that’s a man for you. Strong
as steel, except when it comes to walking down the aisle.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">Slowly, with great majesty, I descended the stairs.
The street was empty, but for multiple cruisers and flashing lights.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“The police escort?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“You can call it that,” the policewoman answered. She
was so kind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">A long, black Cadillac pulled up. Two grim men exited
and removed my husband from the sergeant’s arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Are you the limo drivers?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">One of them, an older man wearing blue plastic gloves,
eyed me quizzically. “Lady, we’re from the mortuary.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The policewoman intervened before I had time to react.
“They had the only limo in town that wasn’t booked. Your husband will be riding
with them. You’re up here with me,” she said, guiding me towards a grey
four-door sedan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">I began to squirm. For the first time since I killed
my husband, something seemed off. “You mean we’re riding separately? Never
heard of that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“It’s the latest trend, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bride</i> magazine says,” the policewoman replied. She tightened her
grip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">I slapped her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">The two cops and the driver of the grey sedan wrestled
me into the back seat. They strapped me in with a seat belt and wide leather
straps. A gauzy hood came down over my head. I bit it with my teeth. A torn label
flopped over. It read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Property State
Hospital</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“We’re not going to a chapel! You’re committing me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“You’ll have you own private room,” the policewoman
said. Her lip was bleeding and her cheek was red.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“It’s called the honeymoon suite. After you,” the driver
cracked. He put the sedan in gear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">“It’s the same locked room you occupied after you
hammered your first husband to death ten years ago,” the policewoman said. She
adjusted the hood so it was easier for me to breathe. “With a ball peen, that time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">It all came back now, the secret I had tucked away,
after they’d freed me on conditional release. My pervert dad. My volcanic
anger. My bad taste for very bad men. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">I screamed. And kept screaming every moment of every
day, for years and years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;">To ensure that my voice, and the voice of all
mistreated women, was finally, truly heard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">By: Anonymous</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 106%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">As Told To: Heatherleen Glade</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-45076676501712339092020-04-24T18:52:00.000-07:002020-04-24T18:52:38.352-07:00The Ghost Ate Biscuits 'n Gravy.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The foul, rotten egg smell seeped into the front room
of Frank M.’s apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Why does the pilot light always go off with 45
seconds left in the fourth quarter?”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> Frank asked, slamming the TV remote on the
couch. He rose woozily to his feet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Eight Budweisers in two hours made it hard to walk
straight to the kitchen. Bending down, he peered into the oven. The pilot light
burned bright blue. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what had caused the smell? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Frank wondered about that as he staggered back to the
living room and passed out face first on the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He awoke Monday at noon. What a heaping mess his life had
become. Tears disappeared into his tangled beard, just as they had at his
brother Duane’s funeral two days before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Duane had died doing what he loved best; duking it out
in a bar fight. He’d thrown one punch—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">just
one</i>—and had missed, the momentum carrying his 376 pounds and empty head
into the solid brass foot rail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“F**kin’ miss you, bro’,” Frank blubbered, slowly
sliding off the couch. He kept doing so until he heard several rapid-fire
reports, like a braking Peterbilt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Frank tensed. Fished for the tire iron he kept between
the cushions, stood up and got ready to break bones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But then the rotten egg smell returned and Frank
smiled for the first time since Duane had died. Because an unseen presence had
come to vanquish his grief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">His brother Duane’s ghost.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Talk to me, bro’, talk to me,” Frank screamed. “They
must have biscuits and gravy in Hell, because I’d recognize them farts
anywhere!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He inhaled the pungent air like it was life itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“C’mon, blast me again,” he shouted when the scent
began to dissipate. “I can handle the stink. Don’t forget, I slept in the same
room as you when we was growin’ up, dude.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Draining Bud after Bud, Frank waited in vain for Duane
to detonate. “Oh, I get it,” he chuckled uncomfortably. “You ain’t gonna do
another—just ‘cause I asked. Still up to your old games, hey bro’? Well, f**ck,
you, too. Maybe you’re better off dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Frank spent the next hour cursing loudly at Duane,
until the cops showed up on a noise complaint. Pissed that even as a ghost
Duane could pull his chain, Frank tackled the nearest uniform.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Surrounded by blue, Frank was hauled downtown and
booked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Three days later, as soon as he returned to his
apartment, Frank again began yelling at Duane. This continued until he was
evicted, the living room ankle deep in empty cans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When last spotted, Frank M. was in a sleazy Phoenix
bar, cursing a ghostly Duane the assembled bikers, dealers, pimps and hos
couldn’t see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They laughed, they grumbled, but did nothing to
further disturb the ranting man. Because Frank was 6’6” and 402-pounds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And because the biscuits and gravy stench he raved
about hung so heavily in the air.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">reported by:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Doc Paranormal</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Adjunct Professor without Portfolio</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</span></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-56410378194884159992020-04-20T18:52:00.000-07:002020-04-20T18:52:51.986-07:00It's Raining Men.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No, no, please don’t doctor! For the love of god. Don’t
play that tape again! You’ll kill me!” I screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The sound of a little lightning and thunder isn’t
going to hurt,” my psychiatrist chuckled. He was completely bald with a full
white beard and an unsettling twitch in his right eye. “Especially now. You’re
safe. So take a deep breath. Lean back and just enjoy being on my couch.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He re-wound the ancient reel-to-reel tape, preparing
to again unleash the hellish crash and boom that caused me, a full-grown man, to
cower with fear. The nightmare cacophony that had transformed me from a healthy
boy of six, electrified by the imminent return of my long-absent soldier dad,
into the haunted wretch I am today.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You have no idea what that sound does to me,” I
yelled, pulling against thick leather restraints. I was strapped to the plush
designer couch, heavy black belts cinched painfully tight over my wrists and
ankles. Even my head was restrained, leaving me with no option to stare
helplessly at the fly buzzing around my nose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Oh, yes I do,” the psychiatrist answered, the shrink
I’d been assigned to under the government insurance plan for indigents. Even
brilliant, overqualified indigents like me, brought to their knees by mental
distress. “Which is why I had you undergo desensitization therapy. Exposing you
repeatedly to the noise complex that distresses you should have reduced its
ability to unnerve.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“After twenty-seven exposures, a thunder crack should
now be just that, a thunder crack, not an apocalyptic event that threatens your
very sense of self. But you have not improved. You remain a disturbed man. Therefore,
I’m going to subject you to an experimental procedure I’ve dubbed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Desensitization Therapy Plus+.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I sensed initial befuddlement when I asked you to
bring along audiotapes of your family’s voices; the tapes you said helped calm
you when you were in crisis over past traumatic events. Well, now you’re going
to find out why I asked. For your twenty-eighth treatment, I am going to play
those calming voices in one channel while continuing to transmit thunder and
lightning sounds through the other. Though the treatment will again be a
painful experience, the psychological halo of the calming voices will, when all
is said and done, negate the troubling noises, essentially neutering them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I pushed against the restrains, but it was useless to try. The leather straps were thick and my entire body was in full view.
There was no way I could try to break free without the psychiatrist stopping me
as soon as I began. So I gave up, saving my energy for a better time to strike.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“So you really believe it will work?” I asked. “The
voices of my family mean everything to be because of what we went through.”
Indeed, I played them in my ear buds when I meditated, an ever-repeating loop
culled from various sources of my mom, dad and sister saying, “I love you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">DTP+</i>,” he
said with a tight grin, “will free you to laugh at a lightning strike, run with
joy through the hardest rain. You’re not crazy, you’re not mentally ill, as
your previous therapists have maintained.” He pointed to the stacks of file
folders spilling across his polished teak desk.” I’ve immersed myself in your
case and can say, to use a decidedly non-clinical term, they were full of
bulls**t. I’m a full-blown Ivy League M.D.—a psychiatrist. Those others were a
bunch of low-grade master’s degree social workers who wouldn’t know the DSM-5
from a coloring book.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He balled his hands into fists. “I know of what I
speak. You, dear sir, merely suffered a childhood trauma that I am going to
eradicate today with my ground-breaking technique.” With that, he donned a pair
of sound-deadening earphones, punched a button on the reel-to-reel, and twisted
the volume dial to the far right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Into one ear came a furious storm, into other, the
soft voices of my loved ones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The psychiatrist leaned back in his Eames chair,
opened a leather-bound notebook and scribbled with a gold Cross pen as I
shrieked in pain, until drooling, I returned to the long ago time when my
childhood ended. And my benighted adulthood began…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Mommy! Mommy! You’re so mean! Why can’t Darlene and I
go out to play?” I shrieked with all force a six-year-old could muster. My lips
were flecked with spittle, I’d been carrying on so long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“There’s a terrible storm coming. Can’t you hear it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Indeed I could. Distant lightning flashed, followed by
an ominous rumble. But I was too excited to sit still. My father was coming home
from the secret war today after months overseas! Scuttlebutt had it that he was
among the two thousand troops being transported back in the massive bellies of C-130s
disguised as Fed Ex cargo planes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Reports had been sketchy due to what my mom called a
“news blackout.” All I knew was the war was still a fierce one, with one side
gaining the upper hand before the other seized it back. It was a grim, never
ending story told in flesh, blood and steel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But today I was joyful. Daddy’s unit was flying back
to our remote island home-away-from-home, rotating out of the front lines for
overdue R&R. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Thunder boomed. Closer now. My mother ripped the
living room drapes shut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I could no longer see out. The playground set in the
front yard. The makeshift pitching mound where I stood tall when dad and I
played catch. Me, throwing sizzlers, dad behind the plate, flashing signs; two
phantom World Series rings on the line. Dad had worked hard to make our
assigned property a comfortable place, even though it was on an island without
a name. In either the Atlantic or Pacific. That, too, had been censored for
security reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Get down to the basement! Now!” Mom yelled. She was
flustered but beautiful, her flaxen hair in an unraveling bun; a sky-blue apron
over a sunflower yellow house dress. She was the quintessential mom, always
there for Darlene and me, even when she appeared sad, her childhood sweetheart
facing death across unknown seas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I took Darlene’s tiny hand in mine. A prematurely
serious girl of four, she depended on her big brother to keep her safe from the
dangers that had been omnipresent from the day she had been born. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Little did Darlene know I needed her more than she did
me. Her brave, upturned chin, her warm little hand. Wrapping her trembling body
in my thin arms, muffling her quiet sobs, she infused me with strength; gave me
a reason not to surrender to my own fears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">An unholy thunderclap shook dust from the massive
table at the center of my dad’s basement workshop, piled high with cobwebbed
hammers and saws, pining away for the touch of my dad’s sturdy hands. Hiding
below it, Darlene and I cringed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mom clattered down the stairs. “Where are you two? Say
something!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Here mommy,” I answered, poking out a hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Thank god,” she cried, crawling beneath the table,
hugging both of us, cupping our cheeks. Mom and dad were our ultimate
protectors. Nothing could go wrong when wrapped within their arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was then storm hit with a vengeance. The house
shook. The rafters groaned, as if resisting power forces bent on tearing them
apart. Brilliant lights flashed in the crack beneath the basement door. The
adventurous side of me wanted to climb the stairs, rip the curtains away from
the picture window and behold the awesome spectacle. The cautious part, the
real me, wanted nothing more than to remain within my mother’s protective
embrace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Another boom, the loudest yet. The lights went out. I
could barely see my hands. And then Darlene announced, “Mommy, I need to go to
the bathroom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Try to hold, it darling,” my mother replied,
obviously exasperated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Darlene squirmed. A warm liquid saturated my upper
leg.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Too, late, mom,” I said, “She’s already peeing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Darlene whimpered. “I want to be a good girl and sit
on the toilet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Okay, okay,” my mom said. “We can’t have you feeling
ashamed.” She touched me on the shoulder. “Take Darlene to the toilet down
here, in the finished part of the basement. Wait outside and don’t wander.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I grasped Darlene’s hand. “Let’s move. And be careful
where you step!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I will,” she answered, “And I’ll hold it until we get
there like mommy wants. But please hurry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Using my free hand, I felt my way there, but not
before nicking my index finger when I bumped into dad’s table saw. I felt blood
weaving into my palm. In better times, when it wasn’t storming, I would have
shown it to my dad, the stream of blood, evidence that I could sustain terrible
wounds and come out smiling. Now, it just hurt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Okay, go,” I ordered Darlene when we arrived at the
modest bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Gleeful, she raced in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Don’t lock the door,” I warned just as I heard the
tell-tale click.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I’ll be quick,” Darlene said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I rattled the doorknob, then shrugged. If anything
thing went wrong, if the door got stuck, I could easily batter it down with a
shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I leaned against the wall, killing time. It became
eerily quiet, as if the storm had passed. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to go
outside, see the damage it had done. Maybe when dad got home, he would ask me
to help him clear away a few felled apple tree limbs. I could show him my cut
finger, which was bleeding better than ever before. I practiced throwing a
slider. Strike one!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“All done,” Darlene, emerging from the bathroom,
announced. I’d been so caught up in my fantasies, I hadn’t even heard her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Wait here,” I said. “I need to go inside and dress my
wound.” I figured dad would be even more impressed if I wrapped a thick wad of
toilet paper around it that became soaked with blood. I closed the door behind
me, figuring I’d take a leak, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The toilet paper dispenser was down to a few sheets,
so I bent over to find another roll in the cabinet under the sink. Rummaging
around blindly, I stumbled across a plunger, a can of Drano, a can of Raid and
assorted wrenches and PVC plumbing parts, but no f*****g TP. Finally, I
remembered that mom kept the extra rolls in a plastic bag behind the toilet
tank. Brushing away cobwebs and grit, I tore the bag open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Elated, I was wrapping
my trophy wound when a sonic boom knocked me off my feet. I hit my head on the
floor, a staggering blow that made me instantly sick. Trying to stand up, I was
brought back down by a chaotic drumbeat of similar booms, accompanied by the
sound of massive hail crashing onto the roof. The storm had returned,
intensified a hundred-fold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Swooning, trying to steady myself against any handhold
I could find, I lurched out of the bathroom. “Darlene! Let’s go back to mom!” I
screeched, blindly flailing my arms with the hope that I’d find her head, her
shoulders, any part of her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But then, I saw a rectangle of flashing light—the
basement door was open—Darlene was upstairs!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My mom staggered out of the darkness. She’d noticed
the irregular lights, too—shocking white, then black and back again. “What
happened?” she asked, fingers splayed over her mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Darlene got away! I was taking a—” Stopping mid-sentence,
I flew up the stairs. There was still time for the World Series hero to save
the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What I saw when I slid into the living room has shaped
my life to this very day: The drapes had been pulled back, the view through the
picture window a hallucination of jagged silver streaks and snapping branches.
And everywhere massive objects were hurtling down from the sky, battering the
muddy earth, forming craters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then Darlene, her face pressed against the glass,
turned to me and, with wonder in her voice said, “Look. It’s raining men!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Indeed, torsos, limbs and intact bodies were pounding
down like human hail, caving the roof of the family car, pockmarking the
corrugated steel roof of dad’s workshop until it collapsed of its own accord.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Explosions rattled the firmament, as enemy rockets burst
the C-130s, spilling their precious cargo far and wide. Starting out as specks,
the soldiers became recognizably human as they pelted the flattened landscape,
spewing viscera and mud. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Oh my god,” my mother cried. She raced past us, flung
open the front door and staggered into the front yard, her arms upstretched as
she turned round and round.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Mom, come back,” I implored. “You’ll get hurt.” I
hurried onto our covered porch, but couldn’t bring myself to leave its shelter.
A body pierced the roof above me, a uniformed soldier with a shredded scalp and
ballooning eyeballs jolting to a stop inches from my nose. His dress blues were
littered with dangling medals. An insignia stitched to what remained of his
right shoulder indicated he was a member of my father’s unit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I sought refuge in the furthest corner of the porch,
pressed my back against the wall, shut my eyes and tried to make it all go
away. Until, until, Darlene shook me by the shoulder, pulled me by the hand and
said, “Come see. Come see.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I followed, Darlene looking back every once and a
while, her eyes alight, a big smile on her face, a wonderful like I seldom saw.
“I have a big surprise. I have a big surprise,” she chanted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Finally, when we reached the far edge of the porch,
she stopped and pointed. “Daddy’s home,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And there he was, my big handsome dad, wearing his
military best, lying in a heap atop a lifeless figure in a sky-blue apron over
a sunflower yellow housedress.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My parents were locked in a final embrace, their
broken faces fused in an eternal kiss. Mom’s lips had been sheared off upon
dad’s impact. From my vantage point, she appeared to be smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then the audio tape stopped and I emerged from my
reverie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“And how does my favorite patient feel now?” the
psychiatrist asked, his gin-soaked breath overpowering, his smug, bloated face
just inches from mine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No improvement.” I struggled to throttle him, the
thick leather restraints saving his life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Don’t jump to a conclusion. Remember, I warned you
that this session would cause the same unmitigated pain as the previous
twenty-seven. The true test comes now, in its aftermath. If my theory is
correct, I can now play for you the storm audio in both channels and you should
suffer no harm.” He leaned towards the reel-to-reel. “May I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Still reeling from the last assault, I was not ready
for another. But before I could object, the tape again rolled. The same
earth-shaking blasts, the rumblings, reverberations. But I felt nothing. No
childhood terror. No adult fear. Nothing but a feeling of wonder at Mother’s
Nature’s grand fury.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I’m cured,” I bawled. “Cured! Cured! Cured! Oh thank
you doctor, for relieving me of eternal pain. You’re a genius. A great man!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Beaming, he said, “Hold on. We’re not quite yet done.”
He rose unsteadily from his Eames chair and undid my straps. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I sat upright, rubbing my swollen wrists and ankles. I
felt faint, blood draining from my head. So this was what it felt like to be a
liberated man, able to acknowledge suffering while remaining on an even
emotional keel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Put the head phones on again,” the psychiatrist
asked, holding them out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Why? Didn’t you proved that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Desensitization Plus+</i> works?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“There’s a finishing touch. I want you to listen to
your family’s voices again. It will smooth out any kinks, cement your gains. I
know that sounds like psychiatric gobbledygook, but any job worth doing is
worth doing well.” He was drinking Tanqueray openly now, straight from the
bottle. But hey, I thought, he deserved to celebrate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Whatever you say, doc.” I donned the headphones. He
flipped on the recording, and from the first parental, “I love you,” I was in
unbelievable pain. “I love you,” said my mother, sister and dad, each word like
a .44 Magnum slug piercing my skull. I fought the urge to break the headphones
in two, hoping the anguish would subside, but it continued until the loop ended
and started again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“What the hell’s wrong?” the doc asked, tearing the
headphones off me, throwing them aside. He finished off the gin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I can’t listen to my family talk without excruciating
pain. And their voices, their precious voices were all that kept me hanging
on.” I rose to my feet, now face-to-face with the stinking, slovenly doctor.
How could I have allowed myself to be fooled by him?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Listen young man,” he said, “I informed you up front
this was an experimental procedure. Yet you decided to proceed for unbridled
personal gain.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Personal gain? You mean to feel well again?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The psychiatrist took a wild swing with the bottle.
“This can all be fixed, if you’d just settle down. Obviously, what happened is
an unexpected boomerang effect. You were desensitized to lightning and thunder
while simultaneously developing an aversion to your family’s voices. A novel
sort of transference. It’s fascinating twist, actually that warrants further
investigation.” He shattered the Tanqueray on his teak desk, pointing the
jagged end at me. “We’re making history here, son. You and me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Adopting a messy fencer’s pose, he lunged at me with
the bottle. Missing, he began whipping it back and forth, nicking my finger,
the same one that had been bloodied during the storm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Enraged, I slammed the reel-to-reel into his chest. He
fell to the floor. I beat him senseless. The spools of tape kept whirling,
going nowhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I bent down, found his Brooks Brothers wallet,
extracted $140 cash—the same amount he charged for a session—and said, “Hope
you feel better now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I strode out his door and down the hall, past the
other patients, beleaguered by unknown psychic maladies, waiting their turns.
“Doc might be a while,” I informed them, “He’s recovering from a heavy dose of
anger therapy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I hit the street crying. Lord, was I going to miss
hearing from mom, dad and sis. But in my heart and gut, I knew I would survive.
For the first time ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In a weird and unexpected way <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Desensitization Plus+</i> had truly worked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When the psychiatrist recovers, I’ll recommend him on
Yelp. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">by: Anonymous</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">as told to: </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Doc Paranormal</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Adjunct Professor without Portfolio</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-31455205392565850332020-04-17T16:17:00.000-07:002020-04-17T16:17:54.151-07:00American workers to receive pay in form of lottery tickets by end of 2020, declares soothsayer. Already beleaguered American workers will soon be receiving pay envelopes containing lottery tickets instead of paychecks, a soothsayer revealed in a just-completed seance.<br />
<br />
According to the soothsayer, wages will fall to the point that, by the end of 2020, employees will gladly accept lottery tickets instead of cash--with the hope that they can make ends meet if they "hit the jackpot."<br />
<br />
This reporter attended the seance at the request of The Lovely Darlene, a mystic who advises several noted Wall Street hedge fund managers and is unwilling to give out her last name.<br />
<br />
The vast corporate boardroom was dark and the accompanying music was appropriately soothing. This reporter was told, but could not confirm, that violinist Leslie Stirling played throughout the seance from behind a wind-swept black satin sheet.<br />
<br />
The takeaway:<br />
<br />
According to the Lovely Darlene, one out of every thirteen million American workers will become obscenely rich under this new policy. One out of every million will win a loaded 2020 model Toyota Corolla, within which to sit while waiting in a 2-mile-long food line. The remainder will need to remain patient until their next pay cycle and the fresh prospect of a winning ticket.<br />
<br />
reported by:<br />
Dawnlee Hope, Jr.<br />
Undergraduate Student<br />
Conspiracy Theories Curriculum<br />
Edgar Allan Poe Community College <br />
<br />
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-81915364608656827482020-04-10T19:47:00.000-07:002020-04-10T19:47:22.108-07:00I Weaponized Clinical Depression for a Psychological War Start-Up.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Exclusive to Edgar Allan Poe Community College:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>I Weaponized Clinical Depression for a Psychological
War Start-Up. Now I Feel Overwhelming Remorse.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patient #1: “My entire life is a sin, from the moment
I defiled my mother’s body in the delivery room to the countless times I forgot
to wash my hands before making love.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patient #2: “It’s like I’m the world’s most disgusting
Port-A-John. People would rather s**t in public than take a dump in me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you think the above quotes are the musings of
self-pitying failures, you’d be very, very wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patient #1 is a retired Air Force Colonel, judged to
be of rock-solid mental health after a withering battery of tests designed by
my team.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patient #2 is a superb athlete and Olympic medal
winner with zero psychiatric issues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Until now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Indeed. As I write this, both patients suffer from
major depressive disorder characterized by abject lethargy and constant risk of
self harm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Why? Both interviews were conducted after exposure to
Substance X, a compound aimed at triggering in enemy soldiers an acutely
depressed state. Yes, hardened warriors lose the will to fight, casting aside
their weapons and begging for mercy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Substance X was created by me. My name is (withheld).
I’m distinguished scientist whose moral compass went awry in designing a weapon
aimed at ending for all time further “hot wars.” I’m revealing this publicly
because my device has fallen into malevolent hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The march towards war without death is being perverted
by forces beyond my control. Therefore, I have adopted a position similar to
that of Daniel Ellsberg, when he released the Pentagon Papers in 1971;
wrongdoing must be exposed, even at great personal risk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That’s why I’m penning this open letter to all
American citizens of good faith. Thanks to Edgar Allan Poe Community College for the opportunity to publish it here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Background: I’m a Nobel Prize-nominated scientist,
specializing in the field of psychiatric warfare. I hate war. But after years
of watching the body count rise, I was forced to admit that war was deeply
embedded in the human psyche. The desire to fight is an integral part of who we
are, beginning with “my dad can beat up your dad” and ending with the atomic bomb,
the most destructive weapon of war yet devised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Given that, the issue, as I saw it, was to devise a
weapon that allowed nations to act on this primitive impulse, while killing no
one. For a long time, it was a low-budget labor of love. Then, as luck would
have it, I received a call from a psych war start-up in late 2018. The
principals, ex-military, ex-intelligence insiders, had gotten wind of my
project. Their stated goal was to determine if Substance X was scalable, and if
so, to market the product internationally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I jumped at the chance to join their distinguished
team. Working with these guys, many of whom I knew from previous classified
endeavors, would allow me to play an instrumental role in bringing about
permanent world peace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Plus, I was offered a healthy portfolio of stock
options that would make me a near-billionaire should the company succeed in
going public (that I succumbed to such a base need, I am truly ashamed. I am
less man and more earthworm because of it; an earthworm engorged with the
rotted fruit of its labors). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was flown by private jet to the firm’s headquarters.
Security there was tight, much more so than at Theranos and other infamous
start-ups. How tight? All those entering the building, including me, were
required to submit to a rectal exam <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and </i>a
colonoscopy, in order to ensure nothing was smuggled via the lowermost reaches
of the digestive system. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After two hours of embarrassing recovery, followed by
a gourmet meal, I joined a select group gathered in the otherwise empty company
auditorium. They had come to hear my presentation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was ushered onstage, outfitted with an omni-directional
mic and asked to proceed. Anxious, for I did not know how this elite audience
would react, I began my sales pitch: </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">“Ladies and gentlemen, we have entered a new age when
the general public is repulsed by wanton killing on a mass scale. Therefore, in
order to defeat an enemy while maintaining public support, we need a way to
incapacitate hostile troops while shedding minimal blood. But why clinical
depression? Why a </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">depression</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">bomb</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">, to coin a phrase? Good question.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I nodded at a video screen behind me. A slide show had
been hastily assembled. The word <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Schizophrenia
</i>appeared, highlighted on either side by red lightning bolts and
kaleidoscopic whorls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Schizophrenia was ruled out after student volunteers
sprayed with my proprietary substance exhibited a wide range of unpredictable
behaviors. This I decidedly did not want. A heavily armed, yet erratic, enemy
force is not a desirable outcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“A bi-polar weapon had similar problems, prompting
study subjects in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">up</i> phase to
feel they were impervious to harm. One individual, in such an agitated state,
became convinced that an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Army of One </i>(namely
him), could defeat a battalion of some 300 to 800 enemy soldiers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“A dose of clinical depression, on the other hand,
instilled in the volunteers a sense of hopelessness, lethargy and abject
despair. A quiz administered shortly afterwards indicated that ninety-five
percent of the subjects felt that nothing in life was worth fighting for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The implications,” I said, as those words appeared on
the screen, “are that in a war-time setting, similarly disheartened enemy
troops could be taken prisoner with minimal struggle. Once behind barbed wire
in outdoor camps, they could be administered a reviving dose of a generic SSRI.
Back to psychiatric baseline, they could then be put to productive use in work
camps, until all their fellow hostiles were dosed and the conflict came to a
swift end. With a clear victor, yet minimal casualties on both sides.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After a tense pause, during which sweat dripped from
my brow in a humiliating close-up on the video screen, the entire audience rose
as one. And began clapping and hooting with scattered shouts of “Here! Here!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Should I take that as a signal you want to move
ahead?” I asked, fighting back tears. My dream of bloodless wars was about to
take a giant step towards becoming a reality.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yes!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yes!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Immediately."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“If not sooner,” a former NSA insider cracked wise to
gales of laughter from the ebullient throng.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In short order, I was issued luxury living quarters on
company grounds, a crack staff, unlimited budget and, yes, stock options, after
my attorney intervened. Should the company go public, I planned to donate 50%
of my personal proceeds to the National Humane Society in honor of my deceased
wife, a dog lover and champion of orphaned pot belly pigs, of which we had
fifteen until she suffered cardiac arrest while shoveling a veritable mountain
of hog s**t.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Filthy swine! I should have butchered them all!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sorry, but I’ve been prone to volcanic outbursts of
late, for reasons you shall soon understand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Two frenetic days later, I began the next research
phase. This time, due to the top secret nature of the undertaking, study
subjects were the crème-de-la-crème of national security personnel. Men and
women of high accomplishment and iron will; courageous volunteers willing to
suffer weapons-grade despair until the administration of an antidote in the
form of a high-octane, inhalable SSRI.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The first session was a failure, which shamed me to no
end. I felt like a naked man being laughed at by priests. I’d stationed the
volunteers in a safe room equipped with overhead sprinklers that, when an
assistant turned them on, emitted a fine spray of Substance X. The same mixture
I’d administered college students with heartening results. I’d then waited for
the elite military subjects to manifest the symptoms of major depressive
disorder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Unfortunately, I’d underestimated their ability to
resist the power of the disheartening spray. They’d become sad, but not despondent
to the point of incapacitating self-hate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The executive team funding my work was not happy. I
was informed that, if an effective weapon was not created by the end of the
week, my stock options would be halved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Under monumental pressure to achieve better results, I
labored for ninety-six hours straight to develop a fire-extinguisher-type
weapon that blasted a thick fog of Substance X concentrate. My lab assistants
pitched in to the point of exhaustion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fighting back sleep, we donned air-tight protective
gear, entered the safe room and sprayed a billowing cloud of Substance X until
the makeshift weapon was emptied. We then exited, showered and removed our cumbersome
suits. Pulling on slacks, I hurried in my bare feet to an observation window
and waited anxiously for the cloud to subside. The project’s future was at
stake. I knew that the demanding investors would pull the plug if significant
progress had not been made. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was filled with a strange mixture of elation and
sorrow when it became clear that the volunteers behind the glass were overcome
with existential gloom. Elated that the experiment had worked. Sorrowful that
true American heroes had been reduced to such a pathetic state. They stood catatonic,
unable to make eye contact or utter a word. Then one-by-one, as if Substance X
was leaching into their very souls, these selfless patriots curled up on the
floor, squealing like abandoned piglets marked for imminent slaughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I alerted my corporate masters, who raced into the
lab, clapping each other on the back. Some babbled on their phones. For all
knew, they were ordering fresh Lamborghinis or bigger mansions than they
already possessed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At this, my spirits plunged; I now hated myself for
selling a non-lethal, but incapacitating weapon of war to mere profiteers. Disgusted,
I wanted out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">However, my corporate overseers had me by the
financial balls; I’d already made a large cash donation to the non-profit I’d
established in my beloved wife’s memory. If I pulled out of the depression
project now, my stock options would be taken away. I’d be penniless and, with
my reputation ruined, I’d be unemployable as anything but a greeter at
Wal-Mart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So I answered “yes,” when the CEO asked me to see if I
could replicate the results in a variety of novel settings. After choking down
a celebratory dinner, I went back to work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Day followed wretched day. Repeatedly, I was ordered
to increase the dosage. As time went by, it became more and more difficult to
justify the anguish I was putting my subjects through. It broke my heart to see
these gallant men and women beg for sharp knives in order to cut their own
throats.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I refused further gourmet meals (aka bribes). I rapidly
began losing weight. My face broke out from the unrelenting stress. It was a
hellish routine; saturating the safe room with new formulations of Substance X,
taking notes as America’s heroes fell apart, then exiting and thoroughly cleaning
my protective gear. Mentally spent, I’d trudge upstairs to the executive suite
and file my nightly oral report, which always seemed to meet with frowns and
muttered disapproval.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I began to suspect that management was taking actions
behind my back; a misplaced vial here, a notebook with a page missing. Who was
entering the locked lab without my permission? What were they up to? The
constant speculation made me weary. Yet, I’d lie awake all night, unable to
close my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My moral crisis reached a peak when a study participant,
a highly disciplined martial arts wonder, was found hanging from his Black Belt
after another round of Substance X. Fortunately, he was quickly cut down.
Coughing and gagging, he survived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">While many in top management high-fived this grotesque
display of Substance X’s super-sized effectiveness, I was bothered to no end. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Wracked by guilt, I began staying in bed all day,
unwilling to set foot in the lab. My mind became a rat’s nest of racing
thoughts. I developed agonizing aches and pains. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And then came the final straw: the antidote stopped
working. One night, despite countless doses of inhalable SSRIs, the fallen
heroes remained critically morbid in mind and spirit. Management, indeed, had
been laboring mightily behind my back to neutralize the effectiveness of any
and all antidepressants. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That’s right. Prozac, et al, no longer worked. My
top-drawer study subjects had been relegated to eternal mental agony. Many were
institutionalized in a private psychiatric hospital owned at arm’s length by
the start-up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I protested to no avail. It soon became clear that the
company had misused my intellectual property for its own reprehensible ends. I
was of no more value to them than a flip-phone. Neither was my mission for
world peace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">While I’ve been allowed to remain in my luxury
apartment, I haven’t the energy to rise from the floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I live in perpetual darkness with no hope of feeling
like myself again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How can I state that with such certainty? Well, you
see, I found a tear, a deliberate tear in my protective suit yesterday. For my
perceived disloyalty, I’d been exposed to a toxic dose of the new and improved Substance
X, for which there was no cure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My body, my mind, my soul are afflicted with unceasing
despair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There’s a gun on the coffee table and a pen in my
hand. With any luck, I will be able to resist oblivion long enough to finish
writing this open letter—to warn you—to warn every living soul—of the true horror
to come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The start-up was just sold to a malevolent consortium
of hedge fund managers. I’m now rich man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But…but…the hedge fund guys and gals, well, I hear they’re
quietly equipping hundreds of crop dusters with Substance X weaponry. The
alleged goal is to fog major cities. To conduct a war of depression and despair
against the American people. To strengthen the grip they have over our lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The possibility that someone will read this gives me
hope. A reason to keep a firm grip on the pen. To keep writing. To never stop.
Until a new day dawns. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Writing is my Prozac. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There’s still time to find yours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">by:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Anonymous</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>posted by Doc Paranormal</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Adjunct Professor, Automatic Writing Curriculum</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Edgar Allan Poe Community College</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-47618054976835856162020-02-26T14:11:00.001-08:002020-02-26T14:11:46.890-08:00Baby's diaper deposits tell gambler grandad how to bet.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Dear Doc Paranormal:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes a gift falls into your lap in the strangest of
ways. Whether it was the work of god, fate or spirits from another plane of
existence, I have been so blessed. That’s because I have been taken from
poverty and the edge of despair to prosperity and an extended cab Ford 350
pickup thanks to my nine-month-old grandson.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I live on the coast of Oregon and let me tell you
something—if you think unemployment is bad where you live, move out here where
the good jobs in fishing and timber disappeared decades ago. The only way to
earn money is twisting wax paper wrappers around salt water taffy for the
wealthy whale watchers who come here from all over the world. Call me lazy, but
I’m not doing that, not at age sixty-seven, no sir.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I was living on disability and odd jobs I could scrounge
up until my grandson was born nine months back. Now “Brad” is a wonderful kid,
already feisty and plump, so it was no problem for me when my son and
daughter-in-law started dropping him off when they had out-of-state business to
attend to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, I found that taking care of Brad at home got tired
real quick, so I decided to combine baby-sitting with pleasure and bring him
gambling with me. There are a couple of Indian casinos hereabouts, and I have
been known to attempt to augment my income on the roulette wheel.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One fine evening, I was at such a casino and down in the
dumps. I was losing pretty big and was worried because the $500 I’d lost had
been borrowed from my son’s cookie jar. I decided to take a break from the
misery and look in on lovable little Brad, who was having the time of his life
in the casino day care center.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, when I showed up, the day care girl was changing
Brad’s diapers. He had just gone #1. Since my usual roulette system wasn’t
working, I hit on a brainstorm: When Brad went #1, I’d put my chips on red.
When he went #2, I’d play black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Inspired, I raced back to the roulette wheel and placed my
last nine dollars on red. I won! The hot streak kept going for about six
minutes, at the end of which I was up five hundred and thirty-seven dollars.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this point I took another break and strutted like a bandy
cock back to the day care center to see if Brad had made another “prediction.”
He hadn’t, so I decided to kick back at the all-you-can-eat popcorn shrimp
buffet. Man, those suckers tasted good dipped in catsup.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After this, I returned to the day care center where blessed
Brad had just gone #2. Electrified with excitement, I ran to the roulette wheel
and won another seven hundred and one dollars playing black. Weirdly, this made
me hungry again, so I splurged on a hot fudge sundae—making sure, of course, to
reward Brad with a heaping spoonful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To make a long story short, I have since discovered through
trial and error that Brad’s power of prediction is only good for about six or
seven minutes after he does his duty. Why, I don’t know, but beyond that, his
ability fades.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Brad and I are inseparable now. I baby sit him all of the
time. The ladies at the Indian casinos dote on that little boy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I plan to buy Brad his own F-350 when he gets older. My only
big worry is whether his forecasting ability will continue when he’s out of
diapers and into pants. And how he’ll react when I knock on the stall door when
he goes to the men’s room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>Thanks for opportunity to tell my story!</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>Daniel in Florence, Oregon</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-52098809828769441982020-02-24T18:58:00.001-08:002020-02-24T18:58:35.431-08:00OMG! Woman sprays guardian angels with Raid.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Dear Doc Paranormal:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This all started in late
March when my husband Bob and I began using our back porch for barbeques—and
even a bracing breakfast or two. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">We live on a lake in east
Tennessee and we both love fresh air—although I must confess to being squeamish
about bugs. That’s why we have a screened porch instead of a cedar deck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Anyway, we were relaxing
one night after a meal of grilled tri-tips and Bush’s baked beans when an
unusually persistent swarm of bugs began assaulting the screen. It was dark and
hard to tell what they were through the screen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My heart skipped a beat
because they didn’t seem to be flying at random. It was as if they were
aggressively trying to get in, like a hungry dog banging at the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And the sound they made
wasn’t that of mosquitos, flying beetles or gnats. It was more like a weird
kind of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">singing—</i>the distorted,
staticky kind you hear on a distant radio station when a storm is coming your
way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Knowing how much I hate
bugs, Bob grabbed two cans of Raid—one in each hand—and began mowing the
insects down. That’s when—and I swear this is true<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">—</i>the screaming began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">(Sorry,
I need to pause here for a moment to regain my composure…)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">…Anyway, I thought Bob
would laugh when I said I heard screams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But his face was white as
a sheet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Trembling, he replied,
“You must have been reading my mind. Those were screams. Millions of tiny
screams.” He looked with disgust at the cans of Raid still in his hands. He
heaved them into a corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The night suddenly
silent, Bob carefully opened the porch door to examine the creatures he’d just
killed. But he found nothing, nothing at all. No carcasses—only a light evening
dew on the grass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now, I’m going to throw
you a curveball. I’d been trying to get pregnant for twelve years when this
happened. Bob and I had attempted everything. We were so desperate we’d even
flown to Switzerland where I underwent experimental treatment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But shortly after the
tiny creatures visited that night, I felt something stirring inside. I secretly
took a pregnancy test and was overjoyed when it was positive. My doctor
confirmed it and I gave birth over the holidays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Bob and I now firmly
believe that the buzzing creatures he sprayed with Raid were actually tiny
guardian angels. They had arrived in a swarm to bless us with a child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Thankfully, a few of them
were able to fly through the poisonous cloud, although Bob made a
back-of-the-envelope calculation that he had caused several hundred thousand
guardian angels to die a horrible death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Bob’s been diagnosed with
PTSD. He whimpers in his sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I can’t watch a Raid
commercial today without weeping uncontrollably.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Donna in Tennessee</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Dear Donna:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">I find that <i>Off! </i>works well on demons.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Best,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Doc Paranormal</span></span></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-52520949989776443152020-02-20T18:44:00.000-08:002020-02-20T18:44:24.695-08:00Charity seance collects dollars FROM the dead!!<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">A marathon, 24-hour séance has collected $1,763 to repair cracked crystal balls for indigent soothsayers, according to Heatherleen Glade, teaching assistant, Past Life Therapy at Edgar Allan Poe Community College.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> Heatherleen said the event took place in a Las Vegas hotel room about 75 miles from the EAPCC campus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> “It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience,” Heatherleen told this reporter. “Fifteen of us held hands in a circle for 24 hours, surrounded by candles and the lively sounds of a Lindsay Stirling CD playing over and over again. The ever repeating music, while tedious in the extreme, did draw the attention of the leaping violinist’s many deceased fans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> Continued Heatherleen, “The money arrived in various ways. Typically a spirit would reveal where they had concealed cash when they were alive. Hundreds of dollars were found stashed inside VHS players, taped beneath cookie jars and at the bottom of urns filled with the ashes of loved ones.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> Heatherleen said the lengthy séance tested the mettle of everyone involved. “We knew that if we broke the circle, many of the spirits would lose interest and go away. So we held hands continuously for all 24 hours, even during comfort breaks, when all fifteen of us would shuffle into the bathroom, turning our heads as each went to the toilet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> “And holding hands throughout the séance created awkward moments at mealtime. Since we couldn’t grasp the food, it was shoved into our mouths by assistants who had cut it into bite-sized pieces. Drinking-wise, beverage containers were held beneath our chins and we sucked up the refreshing liquids through straws. All-in-all, the food was pretty good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> And how would Heatherleen feel about participating in another such lengthy séance?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> “At about the 12-hour mark my mind was screaming ‘never again!’ But know that I’ve had time to recover, I’m game to perform more charity work. Good deeds aren’t always easy!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">--reported by Doc Paranormal </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0in;">
</div>
Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-85534376640340949292020-02-19T18:45:00.001-08:002020-02-19T18:45:24.632-08:00Tree sitter: My wonderful, horrible night in an enchanted forest<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dear Doc Paranormal:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I swear what I’m about to tell you really happened,
even though I was alone at the time, one hundred and fifty feet above the
forest floor. Holding on for dear life to a massive Douglas fir. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m a tree-sitter. You know, the kind of crazy person
who climbs a big tree and stays put in order to protect the old-growth forest.
Crazy, at least in the eyes of a general public that thinks clinging to the
branches of an immense fir in order to save it is insane.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’d never considered tree-sitting until I lost my
publishing job in San Francisco. Living costs there are, of course, sky-high. A
deal-breaker when you’re unemployed. So when I read about a protest at a
proposed logging site (which I’m not going to identify, for reasons you’ll soon
understand), I figured, “What the hell.” It was a good excuse to escape a
hectic town I could no longer afford anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I left all my possessions with a friend. Half a day
later, I was in a world of giant trees and happy people. The dramatic change
was a kind of high—a hit of Mother Nature’s Ecstasy, you might say. Before I
knew it, I was being roped up to a platform one hundred fifty feet high in the
branches of a grand, distinguished fir.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The protester I was replacing greeted me with glazed
eyes and a beatific grin. But a shiver went through me when she tried to speak
and only spittle emerged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Little did I know I’d soon be struck dumb myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My first hours alone in the canopy were a wonder of
soft breezes and swaying limbs. I had never before felt so serene. But as
twilight fell and the stars came out, I got paranoid. Crippled with stress, I’d
roll off my tiny wooden platform when I fell asleep. Only after roping myself
against the massive trunk in a perpetual hug was I able to relax and close my
eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Two hours later, I awoke with a start. The tree’s
limbs groaned. The wind had picked up, I thought. Thank god I’d tied myself
down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then I screamed. The disturbance was actually a
phosphorescent stream swiftly traveling up the tree, over my body and into the
night sky. I was petrified. I wanted <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">down.
</i>But I was teetering one hundred and fifty feet above the forest floor, with
no help from below until first light arrived. I had to gut this out on my own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I took a deep breath only to be startled again. The
phosphorescent stream was composed of recognizable beings—rabbits, bears, owls,
even insects! Thousands upon thousands of them were shooting past me to the
treetop and the twinkling infinity above.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Slowly, imperceptibly, terror turned to wonder. I
started to blubber and cry. Yes! I had been granted a privilege few before me
had ever experienced. A lucky few, like the tree-sitter I’d replaced—the young
woman who’d been rendered speechless by the magnificence she’d beheld. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was being overwhelmed by the spirits of deceased
forest creatures, heading skywards to their Next Destination. I had entered the
bloodstream of the life cycle itself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I now stock shelves in a grocery store in a small
Oregon town. Don’t talk (can’t really). Smile a lot. My co-workers call me The
Mute. But I don’t mind. My only ambition is to put together enough money so I
can return to the Enchanted Forest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Because its towering pines offer deceased wild animals’
safe passage to the world beyond ours, where they cavort to their hearts’
content, free from the encroachment of man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Cut down the old growth and we slam the door on their
highway to the Other Side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Sincerely,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Anarki </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-9718811325940345402020-02-13T17:11:00.003-08:002020-02-13T17:11:53.075-08:00Meet the distinguished faculty of Edgar Allan Poe Community College.<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
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Noteworthy Faculty Members:</div>
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Janie Rulen:</div>
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Adjunct Professor, Cryptozoology and Civil Disobedience</div>
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Ravishing red meat-eater (cattle are not an endangered species), yet fierce defender of paranormal animals, Janie, 32, heads the <i>International Society for the Preservation of</i> <i>Paranormal Abominations</i> when she isn’t teaching cryptozoology and civil disobedience at EAPCC.</div>
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A native Amazonian, Janie grew up on the banks of the mighty river; an orphan who spent as much time with wild animals as with people. A messy divorce from a rapacious rubber baron who forced her into a youthful marriage has left Rulen with a fortune estimated in the hundreds of millions.</div>
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When not devising clever strategies and facing physical danger as ISPPA’s founder and president, Janie relaxes by butchering beef with classic Old World methods. Favorite paranormal animal: The Mongolian Death Worm.</div>
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Andrei Duprei:</div>
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Adjunct Professsor At Large in <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place></div>
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Speciality: E.U. Occult</div>
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Father of eight, this rising Romanian entrepreneur’s earliest venture was hawking vampire kitsch to gullible tourists outside an ersatz “Dracula’s Castle.” He was five years old at the time.</div>
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Desperate creativity led to his first real success: <i>Romanian Werewolf Bus Tours</i>, where wealthy sightseers observe werewolves in their natural Transylvanian habitat. Despite last year’s gruesome rendering of an American couple, Mr. Duprei assures all, “Romanian Werewolf Bus Tours are absolutely safe if you remain in the vehicle, which the unfortunate but very stupid Americans did not.” </div>
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Now well-off himself despite being deeply indebted to the Russian Mob, this foremost expert on occult behavior in seemingly rational European Union nations is a welcome addition to the EAPCC faculty.</div>
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Doc Paranormal:</div>
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Adjunct Professor Without Portfolio</div>
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Diagnosed as a young boy with a <i>bi-polar I.Q.</i> of 34 to 171—that could shift between one extreme and another within minutes. In other words, one moment he’d be drooling—the next he was solving complex equations and writing his first symphony (which he later abandoned after dousing the score with Log Cabin Syrup, then shredding and eating it during a "low I.Q." episode.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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Doc is the only individual on record to have both flunked out and become valedictorian of his high school. At the age of sixteen, he was the first student ever to repeat first grade and be accepted by Harvard. After graduating six months later, without forewarning he became a paranormal reporter, composing a landmark investigative piece on invisible dogs.</div>
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Today at age 31 Doctor Paranormal’s I.Q. is fairly stable, ranging between 98 and 105, a level appropriate to his current status as journalist and adjunct chancellor of EAPCC.</div>
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At EAPCC, he is “proud to be training the next generation of working-class paranormalists, including apprentice dowsers, séance coordinators and UFO research technicians.” In addition to his other duties, this tireless professional serves as executive editor for cutting-edge school newspaper The Bird. Lacking any special paranormal abilities, no one really knows why he is here.</div>
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Prefect Tabernacle Perfect:</div>
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Visiting Professor, Film Production and International Finance</div>
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EAPCC is honored by the presence of Prefect Tabernacle Perfect, Supreme Oracle, Advisor to World Leaders and Sole Proprietor of the Holy Umbrella of Spiritual, Awareness, LLC, a center of prophecy, sound advice and junk bond trading found in several undisclosed locations in Lagos, Nigeria. “While some egocentric prophets claim an accuracy rate in the 80<sup>th</sup> percentile, over the years, mine have been correct 137% of the time,” the Prefect says, “That’s right! Often my prophecies are accurate in several areas at once, such as politics, romance and sports.”</div>
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The Prefect’s main business, The Holy Umbrella of Spiritual Awareness, “is an employer of so many people I cannot tell you, for my competitors would be jealous. Suffice it to say that I am the biggest owner of e-mail servers and international phone lines in Festac and have caused countless parishioners to become rich beyond their wildest dreams. Without taking an American cent in compensation, I might add!”</div>
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As a hobby, the Prefect has produced 800 Nollywood suspense films with combined budgets in excess of $750,000 <st1:country-region w:st="on">U.S.</st1:country-region> Among the titles are “Vultures Kill People,” “Where’s My Leg?” “Attack of the British Lepers,” and the #1 selling pirated copy of the Hollywood hit “The Expendables,” subtitled in 327 of Nigeria’s 521 languages, with 30 bonus minutes of inserted footage featuring a close relative of West Africa’s biggest star, Chidi George.</div>
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Once again, EAPCC is proud to host Prefect Tabernacle Perfect and wishes him a successful conclusion to the legal entanglements that have forced him to ankle his beloved <st1:country-region w:st="on">Nigeria</st1:country-region> for the foreseeable future.</div>
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Dr. Abraham Tribesky</div>
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Adjunct Professor, Afterlife Issues</div>
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Only son of a widowed Viennese charwoman, self-taught psychiatrist Abraham Tribesky analyzed his first patient at the age of nine, when his mother’s unreliable client, pioneer shrink Sigmund Freud, blew off another appointment. Abraham, prematurely gray and balding due to childhood exposure to char, successfully pulled off the ruse. His mother pocketed the fee and the pair launched a successful career, filling in for an unwitting Freud when the legend forgot to show up.</div>
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The subterfuge worked so well that some early photos of Freud are actually Abraham. Unfortunately, that phase of his life came to an abrupt end when Freud was tipped off that Abraham had booked an American lecture tour under Sigmund’s name. After changing his appearance radically to avoid further confusion, Abraham fled with his mother to <st1:city w:st="on">Los Angeles</st1:city>, where he established a flourishing trade catering to the vanities of neurotic <st1:place w:st="on">Hollywood</st1:place> stars and starlets.</div>
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Today, the 95-year-old therapist has a practice consisting entirely of deceased celebrities. You heard correctly—the spirits of dead <st1:place w:st="on">Hollywood</st1:place> stars, including Marilyn Monroe and other ghostly glitteri. But that didn’t happen the day he arrived in Tinseltown. “No, no, no,” Dr. Tribesky admits, “That came decades later when my original clients began dying off. I mean when you’ve been in practice for nine decades like me, it happens, you know.”</div>
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Thankfully, Dr. Tribesky’s sage expertise is now available to EAPCC students.<br /><br />To schedule an interview, contact:</div>
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Peter Fenton: Creative Director/Janitor</div>
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Edgar Allan Poe: Creative Director Emeritus</div>
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Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5159776631034415373.post-22090482251877564382020-02-12T18:30:00.001-08:002020-02-12T18:30:15.940-08:00I fear widespread panic if this post goes viral.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I fear widespread panic if this post goes viral. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Which is why I’m releasing it here. To the special few
with the ability to process fear and horror. And then bravely carry on, when
every fiber of your being is screaming: Run! Hide!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can confirm the following: Reports from my sources
indicate that hundreds of South American night monsters—or chupacabras—are
pouring across the U.S. border.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"Strict new immigration laws have caused a steep drop off in human activity along the U.S./Mexican border. The
void has been filled by chupacabras, which avoid human contact unless
threatened. For the first time in history, hundreds of the flesh-eating
abominations are on U.S. soil,” Janie Rulen, president of the <i>International Society for</i> <i>the Preservation of Paranormal Abominations</i> told me in an exclusive interview.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Now they threaten U.S. residents with their ungodly howls
and diseased talons. In one under-reported case, a female Arizona gardener was
eviscerated by a chupacabra that was seeking water from the hose she was using
to spray petunias. In another, a young tree-climber was never again seen (in
one piece) after happening upon a chupacabra that was dozing on a limb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“That said, it is the position of my organization that
chupacabras remain rare and deserve federal status as an endangered paranormal
species.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We are aware this is a controversial stance, but are
unbending in our defense of all dangerous, but misunderstood paranormal abominations. Just because chupacabras, like Mothmen and Mongolian death worms, can
cause lingering and awful death, doesn’t mean they should be denied protection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Paranormal monstrosities are part of Mother Nature’s
divine plan, no matter how many people they kill,” she concluded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My say: Obviously there two camps on the subject of
offering sanctuary to horrifying mythical beasts driven from their native lands
by genocidal authorities. Hopefully, the domestic political debate will not
result in carnage that makes the chupacabra’s deadly work seem like child’s
play.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">reported by:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Doc Paranormal</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Adjunct Professor without Portfolio</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">Edgar Allan Poe Community College</span></span></div>
<br />Edgar Allan Poe Community Collegehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17998437341303769185noreply@blogger.com0