Chicken Little News on Sale

A barking dog and Tom-Dick-and-Harry howling cats kept me awake all night so at dawn, I, in a rambling morning way, went to the Supermarket. The Sandpaper™ Chicken breast tenderloins were on sale for $3.99 a pound. That’s the good news.
    (But before the bad news, talking dogs are always a good topic.
Q. What does the dog say when she walks over sandpaper?
A. Rough, rough, err ruff, grrr, spell check.
Q. What does the dog say when she wants you to get the cat off the top of the house?
A. Roof, roof.
Q. What does she say when people do extravagant supplications before the King?
A. Bow wow.)
    But I had wanted to read the review of a re-make of Tennessee Williams’ “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” and a barking dog told me I should rush to the Supermarket to get chicken cutlets on sale.
    I went to the local “Shoppy Food Masque™” store to contemplate how I would make a gourmet chicken dish cheap. I thought that before I decided how much to buy that I should go to the back of the store where they have a portal to an Alternate Universe where I could consult with a wise chef who’d give me a good recipe with cheap ingredients.
    But I couldn’t remember the password. It had something to do with “guts”.
    So I went back to the show case for cutlets to get my chicken breast tenderloins on sale for only $3.99 a pound weight. But they didn’t have them, and I thought maybe it was some sort of bait-and-switch subterfuge. But I didn’t feel like putting bait on a hook and catching some deluxe fish in the Supermarket special fun tank (catch a fish and you get it for free after paying for a fishing license and a lobster.)
    The good news was that I remembered that the password was “tenderloin.” So I went to the back of the store and entered an Alternative Universe.
    The sage gave me a recipe, but no chicken cutlets.
    Sometimes you just can’t rely on talking dogs to bark up the right tree.

Entry 171

Entry 171


A Robbery

“Demonstration?” I say.

“No time for an explanation now. Be calm.”

I am trying, though it sounds dangerous. I say, “OK.”

I am whispering now, as you can see, into my computer that she is sending me a thought. She sends me a thought, “Uaydix?”

I think, “I don’t know if I should.”

She says out loud, “I just want you to observe his thoughts and my thoughts and participate in what I do. OK?”


She thinks to me, “Uaydix?”

I think back, “Yes.”

She thinks, “No time left. He’s here.” A really tall man with a ruddy complexion, looking innocent and benevolent like a politician, points a gun at us. He says, “Give me all your money.”

Efilioe says, “The money is behind the black panel. You can see it.”

He says, “I don’t see it — I just see my reflection. You’re stalling. Tell me how to open it or I’ll kill you and your boyfriend too. Anyway, I don’t believe it. There’s nothing there. Where’s your stash?”

“Look,” says Efilioe, “you can see there’s $10,000 behind the panel.”

“I just see my reflection and … how did you get a picture of my wife?”

“Huh?” says Efilioe feigning innocence.

“See Doug,” Efilioe thinks to me, “how stress and guilt can explode into consciousness from the ugly depths.”

“Efilioe,” I think, “does he know what’s going on?”

“No,” she thinks, “he’s fallen into a pit of anxiety.”

He says, “And now I see the casino where I lost all my money. How… did you do that?”

“Relax, don’t worry Richard,” says Efilioe.

“Do I know you?” says Richard.

“No Richard, but look at the back of the casino where there’s a door…”

“Yeah, so what,” he says.

“Just see if you can get there, just out of curiosity… You do wonder. No? Maybe the secret to wealth or enough money to get your wife the present you promised.”

“Doug,” she thinks, “do you see what he sees?”

“Yes,” I think to her.

“Richard,” Efilioe says, “open the door and realize how you can count the steps. They are numbered backwards. Step on the platform of the red step. It is number 7. See it?”

“Yes,” he says, “so is that lucky or something?”

“If you step on it,” she is saying, “you’ll feel much better. Just try it out of curiosity.”

Richard says, “Yeah, I stepped on it and it feels like a shot of vodka.”

“Indeed,” says Efilioe, “good to be high, feel like you’re going deeper and deeper, more relaxed, down into calm, down to gentle sleep…”

“Where now?” asks Richard.

“Orange step 6,” says Efilioe, “and like another shot of vodka you go deeper…”

“Doug,” she is thinking to me, “can you pick up on his feelings?”

“Yes,” I think.

Efilioe continues, “Deeper, deeper…”

“Doug,” she thinks, “do you feel the cadence and beat of this?”

“Yes,” I think

Efilioe says, “Down, down, down, … more relaxed, more calm, and you’re eager to climb down the steps to the yellow step 5. ”

“Yes, yellow,” says Richard.

Efilioe says, “Do it…feel it, step 5. And now green, step 4, down… down… down, deep-er, DEEPER, DEEP-er.”

“Uh huh,” he says.

“Step 3 blue. Down… down… down, and DEEPer…DEEPer…DEEPer…”

“Smooth drink” he says out of nowhere.”

“Step two. Down and down and down. Step one, the violet and you love me like the flower whose scent does draw your ardor of devotion. Put down your steel gun dear.”

Efilioe thinks to me, “Doug are you paying attention? Remember BRMEGR.”

“I feel too sleepy to pay attention,” I feel myself saying.

“Now,” she says, “we’re going to have a picnic. Let’s all lie down on the beach blanket face down for a nap.”

The three of us are walking to the blanket and lying down. Seems like we could sleep perhaps.

Although Efilioe is getting up. “Richard,” she says, “I’ll give you a back massage. Put your hands on your buttocks, and arch your back. Now, let your little fingers touch…”

“Yes, uh huh,” says Richard.

“Now, turn your palms together and lift your hands up a little if you must.”


“Now that you are fixed in this position, you cannot move. The harder you try the more difficult it will be. See if you can move your hands apart.”

“I can’t,” Richard says.

Efilioe is going back to the cart to get something. She returns. “I’m now putting on your handcuffs. Do you feel how they are tightening around your wrists?”

“Yes,” says Richard, “what are you going to do?”

“Well,” says Efilioe, “I haven’t decided yet. But it’s such a nice sunny day. OK, now let’s all take a nap, and I’ll give you both a back massage later.”

I am feeling so sleepy and I’m going to take a nap.


I am waking up with an itch on my nose, but I can’t reach it because my hands are stuck behind my back. I am wearing handcuffs. “Efilioe,” I am shouting, “what did you do?”

She is casually strolling over from some distance. She says, “I told you to BRMEGR or there could be dire consequences.”

“You never explained that,” I’m saying but she is not listening. She apparently is going back to the cart to retrieve something from a storage compartment. She comes back with a long knife, and a long rope.

Richard yells out, “You’re not going to kill us are you?”

“Well,” she says, “Maybe I won’t if you cooperate.” She touches his neck with the tip of the knife.

“OK,” She says, “I have to get organized here… Let’s try this lesson again: Doug, as you close your eyes, you see yourself going down the rainbow stairs again and when you reach violet the perfume lets you know you love me and will do anything I say with the ardor of devotion. And now, you will find that your legs are coming together…”

I am feeling sleepy and I am feeling her putting the rope around my ankles tying them together. She touches my neck with the tip of the knife. “You are an inconvenience right now, but you feel your legs bending.”

My legs are bending and I am finding that my ankles are tied to my handcuffs. In trying to resist I feel more sleepy and I’m getting weaker.

“Yes, this is better, now I only have Richard to worry about at the moment until I can decide how many deaths there will be. This is now more manageable…”

She is putting the knife under Richard’s shirt. He gasps. She is pulling it up and tearing it. She puts it under his sleeves and rips them too. She tears off his shirt altogether. She unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants, pulls them off altogether along with his underpants. She dumps things out of his pockets. “Aha,” she says, “a cell phone… I will make it look like you’ve been having a long affair with me, and I didn’t know you were married. Shall I call your wife or the police?”

He says, “Just kill me. You could do it and if you kill him there’ll be no witnesses against you.”

“I could do that,” she says, “The two of you no one would miss, and probably Zusoiti would be pleased. Interesting suggestion — a sacrifice to the Gods. Hmm, I could stab you a few times in the back, or turn you over and stab you in the heart.”

He is screaming. She is scratching his back with the tip of the knife with long strokes. “I promised you a massage, didn’t I.”

He shouts, “Quickly, before you change your mind, before someone comes.”

“Very well then, put your ankles together and I will hog tie you so you don’t runaway like a chicken without a head.” She ties him up tight, stabs him in the shoulder, and rolls him into the forest next to a Black Locust tree. She comes back over the grass towards me. “Hmm, a quick death. I’ll have to think about it: one or two.” She puts down a radio on the blanket next to my computer equipment which she leaves on. “Here,” she says, “listen to the radio, and I’ll leave your equipment on auto-blog mode. You can’t talk too loud now however. Maybe you can leave your last words… Yeah, hmm, now that I think about it, I think two deaths are best. I’ll be back in an hour. Too bad you ignored BRMEGR. It’s not much time, but see what you can do in an hour. Everybody has to die sometime you know, but at least you know exactly when.” And now she is covering me completely with another blanket.

Getting a Hot Dog


I’ve given up trying to write everything. I had to stop to open alcohol wipe packages to clean the wounds and stop the bleeding with a little pressure. I had wondered if getting to the display screens for the periscope trees would be as easy as pie. But after a long tunnel walk and seeing no tarantulas or lions, I had arrived at a panel of screens.

I surveyed the surveillance camera displays and everything looked clear. There was no one nearby, so I climbed up the short set of stairs, pulled the handle on the underside of the exit rock, and pushed it to the side. I had quickly scampered into the park unseen, and the rock slid back. So now…


Getting a Hot Dog

I am walking down from a mound of elm trees onto a walkway. There is a lady at a hot dog cart with a large shiny black plastic panel in the front. I’m going to see what that is. I’m approaching carefully. She has an aquiline nose with a prominent bridge but it seems to turn up at the end like a pixie nose ( which is impossible ). There are come hither lips, pucker lips, and I’m seeing shapely legs that I’m noticing as she walks around her cart nervously as if she were waiting for something. She puts down a large beach blanket on the grass. I say, being distracted, hello how are you or something like that and she says, “Would you like a hot dog?” And I say, oh, of course, or something, and I mumble to myself, “kegmn.”

She says, “Oh you speak Utd’mbts.”

“Oh,” I say, “yeah a little. But that’s scary. Nobody is supposed to know this…”

“Well,” she says, “you mean that it’s a nice day?”

“Um,” I say, “well the ritual greeting of ‘what a nice day’ is Kegmn, um but…”

She says, “So you acknowledge my presence but you don’t intend to convey any information or feelings.”

“Well I suppose,” I’m answering, while I wonder what’s going on really, “but I don’t know you.”

“Indeed,” she is saying with a wink, “so, shall I bleed a thought to you?”

“Well, I don’t know. Do I have to buy a hot dog?”

“Yes, of course. Could I survive without BSOEI?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll take two with sauerkraut and relish.”

“OK. But I know you’re not hungry.”

“Well yeah, a little smile and a little BSOER makes the sun shine.”

“Well, OK, enjoy whenever you’re ready to eat. I’ll wrap it… next time I see you, you’ll come home with me, because I am a person of many surprises.”

I am puzzled, “Um, uh, um, uh umm, and um. Thank you.”

She says, “Aren’t you going to ask my name, Doug?”

“Did I say my name out loud?” I am getting worried.

“No Doug, but you’re leaking thoughts.”

“Oh geez… that’s what Zawm…(oops , I shouldn’t have said that). That’s what Z said the last time we were in the park.” Who is this person, I’m thinking, and on what side?

“Not much of a secret — I know about the Zawmb’yee crisis.”

“Oh gee…” I don’t know — she seems innocent enough.

“I appreciate your thought that you like my buttocks, but I think I have more of a celestial nose, well not exactly, it’s a picipxom nose, and you haven’t yet looked into my deep blue eyes, and watched how my round jaw forms the words of a seduction.”

“Well,” I am saying to stall until I can think of something. I am watching her lips move, the sounds not seeming important.

“Your heart is racing,” she is saying.

“You are hearing my thoughts of lust?”

“No, it’s just the thumps of your heart are so loud that it’s making the birds fall out of the trees.”

“Oh this is not good if I can give myself away…” But she has a sense of humor, I guess — can’t be all bad.

“Has no one ever taught you blocking?”

“No.” Hm, I did block as a child, but I did everything out of fear.

“I could teach you except that I like listening… hmm, um, interesting — yeah, maybe I could do that…”

“Yikes, I’ll have another hot dog…?” I must be falling apart, losing all barriers.

“When you go back, be careful with the spikes… and remember the password.”

“Oh yes OK, then, what is your name?”

“It’s Efilioe”

“Efilioe, I wanted to ask you something…” I hope this is not going to be a dumb question.


“What is that shiny black plastic panel?”

“Oh, it’s not a panel or a screen. It’s just a hunk of plastic. Undo the latch at the bottom, lift it up by the bottom and you’ll see.”

I unlatched and lifted up the panel. Nothing there. “Oh just plastic huh…” Maybe I should stop now before I really look ridiculous.

“Yeah. If you look on the bottom you’ll see a crack that a hunk of plastic gets from a stone unlike other objects…”

“What’s it for?”

“I’ll show you. Look at it and tell me what you see.”

“I see my reflection.”

“Are you sure? Relax your eyes and don’t focus too much…”

“Well, I still see my reflection, but…” Oddly my reflection is lifting its arms, but I’m not… Oh, it’s back to normal. I must have forgotten I did that.

“But what? If you observe you’ll see that it’s not a reflection.”

Suddenly I’m seeing people running around like a sped up movie or a video in fast-forward play and show mode. I turn around to see if there are people running in the forest frantically fast, or people playing, but there’s no one there. But even if there were, they couldn’t possibly move around so extremely fast, and they couldn’t zoom in and zoom out and change scenes and points-of-view.

She says, “Still think it’s a reflection? Concentrate on one of the images and slow it down…”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not a reflection… who’s generating it?”

“You are. Like in a dream, you generate the images. But only to a certain point. Your subconscious is there but sometimes there are intrusions directing the subconscious to pass along a message or influence.”

I am thinking maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. I say, “I can’t interpret the message so…”

“With practice you can learn. But you do have to remember BRMEGR and learn to create the MIGE of light.”


“Wait. Wait. Hold that thought. An opportunity is coming up the road to explain.”


“Someone with a gun is coming up the path to rob me. This should be an interesting demonstration for you…”

Going to the Park

Going to the Park

Going to the Park


Yeah, I think I will take the tunnels into the park. I just have to be careful and use the periscope trees. Well, that’s sort of a misleading name. Actually, both artificial and natural trees were planted in the park in strategic ways. Both kinds of trees have tight knots, loose knots, and epicormic knots that are amenable to contain surveillance cameras, and the exit rock door has cameras in its crevices. So I should be able to open the secret door to the park at a safe time.

I’m taking my notebook computer today and writing as I go, and I may try out the voice recognition software when it’s awkward to write things (I gave it my accent and key words that I say in strange ways). Ah hell, I have a paper notebook too because I’m not comfortable with the new stuff and have to annotate for myself. I’m not going to reveal which is which. As they say, just suspend disbelief and allow me poetic license to write a blog entry.

So onward I go (geez that sounds awkward). I am going past the mural in the hallway to the exit door. The encased stairs are tedious but it’s the only safe way to the basement. Step, step, step, puff, puff, I’ve made it down. I have to walk through the boiler room to my lounge and library. I am walking past the natural gas pipes to the door. Yup, the library is still here. It looks a little like the library in Zusoiti’s mansion that was blown up. I’ve never used it much — it always seemed silly to have a recreation center in the basement so far away from my apartment which is more comfortable.

But anyway, I’m pulling out the purple latch book from the book shelf so the book case will slide to the side and reveal the tunnel door. It should be easy from here. There it goes — voilà

The steel tunnel door is revealed. I am opening the door and stepping through onto a platform which depresses slightly. Ut oh, this is not good. I’m in trouble, because I see there’s a real human skeleton on the floor, not a plastic one. I’m turning around to go back because the walls are studded with sharp spikes and I have a bad feeling about it. I’m going back. The door I just went through is locked. This would be a fine day for a panic and a prayer and my heart is fluttering. Death is not my favorite thing: I’d rather have a picnic.

Well then, so onward and forward to the door with a panel. It says, “Enter password.” Hmm um, I am entering: aKiaWkf3iVeiZj.

It is saying, “Wrong password, that’s most unfortunate… clearing.”

There are odd machine sounds ominously echoing in the chamber between doors. The spikes are getting longer and coming out from the walls. I’m reaching for the panel. Oops. Now, I’ve stumbled on a rock. I can’t get my balance. Ow, oh ouch, oh damn. My arm has hit the wall and is bleeding in several places. I’m turning around and banging on the entrance door. No good. I’m turning back and I’m entering: aKiaWkF3iVeiZl?

There is a loud sound of gears turning like a car crusher. It says, “Wrong password. Puncture wounds will appear imminently if you are careless or a trespasser. Warning: It will be painful, and therefore, it’s important to be accurate and knowledgeable. For unauthorized persons, a painful-slow death is justified as a deterrent to others. Rules are rules.”

The spikes are touching my shoulders. I’m entering: AKIaWkF3aVeiZl. Ouch-oh-ouch,ugh, oh hell. The spikes are pricking my shoulders in many places. I hunch to get them away and I’m turning sideways. The walls are moving in to fill the extra space I just made. The groaning sounds are louder. The spikes are moving all the way up against my chest and back. (Screaming. A groan.)

I am shuttering between my screams. More noise.

There is a loud metallic slam, and the scream of gears. It says, “Thank you. Welcome,” and the door opens.

I shuffle sideways through the door, but get scratched in a few places. Now that was easy. The tunnel I think is about a mile long, smooth enough to be carved out by a THIKTDI, because it’s smooth as glass like the rock was melted. It reaches into a forest area of the park where the periscope trees are planted. It is lit by gnolum.

Changes to the Constitution

Changes to the Constitution


Changes to the Constitution

Oh, the press conference is starting again, but there are much fewer people present. Zusoiti has come to the podium. She says, “Shall we begin again? Now here are some amendments to the Constitution that two thirds of Congress will be discovering (the final article numbers to be determined):

Enlightenment 1.

In ARTICLE I, SECTION 9 of the Constitution, paragraph 3, to wit [No bill of attainder or ex post facto law shall be passed], is hereby repealed.

Enlightenment 2.

SECTION 1. The Eighth Article of amendment to the Constitution is hereby repealed.

SECTION 2. The President or High Priestess may determine which punishment may be available for enforcement of law or decrees.

SECTION 3. The President or High Priestess may issue orders of punishment for new crimes retroactively. Ignorance of what they should have known about the future is not a defense for a person charged with a past behavior not prescribed at the time that has become a crime in the present.

SECTION 4. The President or High Priestess may issue ex post facto laws by decree.

Enlightenment 3.

The President or High Priestess may create a law by decree respecting an establishment of religion and may prohibit the free exercise thereof. The people may not petition the President or High Priestess for redress of grievances.”


There was turmoil. Reporters were getting up out of their chairs, running up and back consulting with each other. Others seemed to just be screaming. Zusoiti said, “Shall we take another break so some of you can disappear? But anyway, I do think what you’re doing now will become a crime in the future. I will have to design some good punishments for you. Perhaps banishment will be the least of them. I think we can remove some empty chairs now.” Zusoiti turning to the side, said, “Yes, Gacplk, what is it?”

He whispered something in Zusoiti’s ear. She continued, “I’ve just gotten a message about the progress of the Ice Age induction process. I will have to postpone the third announcement and end this press conference. Please enjoy the refreshments, the Yoga, and the musical chairs contest.”

A text graphic came on the screen: We now return you to your regularly scheduled program already in progress…


There are more than a few odd things about the press conference. I just assumed that when Zusoiti was sworn in on Air Force One, and flown with the press and the whole entourage to a secret “secure location” that they went to an already established standard air force base used for these occasions. But I’m thinking she could have given the pilot her own coordinates and ordered it to land near one of the cave entrances to an outer province controlled by the elite. Zawmb’yee just stayed in the palace complex, the Kmpamew, and never did get to see the outer provinces. They may have taken them underground to the village of Uzpu where they have a work camp, and where James Ziohat was taken. Zawmb’yee and I never knew about the extensive tunnels and outer villages. We only knew about the limited first caves of the founder and the sacred corridor where a limited administration governed a small primitive complex of caves. I think it’s possible that a small population lived in a limited area their whole life and never knew that there was much more beyond. It’s like before the Europeans knew about the New World. Well, except that this cave New World seems to be both primitive and advanced — um like the serfs and the nobles? So the Grand Council must have had two functions: to govern the façade, and also the more secret world. Maybe a “need-to-know” kind of control of information. And then, I thought I read in Zawmb’yee’s blog that it was forbidden by the Gods to bring the acacizg weapon up-top. It seems to be the weapon that turned so many into ash.

Well, that’s odd: the TV programming seems totally back to normal. It must be the calm before the storm. But anyway, I think the consolidation of power may take a few weeks, so perhaps I should go down to the basement, take the tunnels into the park, and practice meditation as a first step for re-learning Utd’mbts.

It has been quiet for a few days, sort of

It has been quiet for a few days, sort of

[I’m sorry to say that in these times I must admit that I’m fictional. I never thought before that I’d have to explain why I would write my soul in an odd form as odd as I might be noticed, be loved. But as in a play the characters must not break into their self that is not written in the script. Ignore this.]


The President is Dead

“The President of the United States is dead. The Congress has been informed. We await a full investigation. The preliminary investigation indicates that there was a Star Trek formal party at a White House function where a weapon was mistakenly believed to be a toy. An unknown party crasher drew what looked like a toy weapon and the President was vaporized in an attack similar to the one against the former Vice President. The first Lady is on Air Force One with Zusoiti Gabpix and a contingent of reporters headed for a secret location to witness the swearing in of the new president.”


Things are taking on a really ominous tone. This is mass insanity that suddenly Zusoiti Gabpix is President. She is totally untrustworthy to take on such power. But she was on the verge of seizing power anyway. Hmm, it is odd in a peculiar way because she could have seized power without all the formality. Another sign of arrogance and vanity to want official validation? It doesn’t seem likely that good things can follow from this. Oh yeah, I should get some eggplant parmigiana from one of the apartments and collect some supplies and frozen vegetables. The natural gas to the stove and oven is still working so I guess I’ll be alright for a long time. Maybe. I don’t think I’ll ever go outside again. I’m just going to read and watch whatever TV is left. I think that Utcoozhoo left me a big enough endowment in my bank account so that I can continue to make believe I’m a real person and stay alive alone. Just let me hide a little longer. I can cook. I can dream. I can sing to myself and make believe that Zawmb’yee loves me.


It’s been very quiet for a few days. They are not saying very much on the radio or on the TV. It seems that the Congress has been evacuated in groups from the capital and they’re finding a secret place where they can convene in extraordinary session. Members of the cabinet have been spread out to separate locations in case of an attack.

The official caterers and the Social Secretary have also been put on air force planes so they can immediately plan a safe White-House-Sanctioned Party in a new location.


Hmm, maybe I should move to another apartment down the hallway past where Zawmb’yee and I painted the mural. No, I don’t think I’ll bother. Oh, the silence has ended; there’s a signal tone on the radio, and a text graphic on the TV: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY REPORT, AN UPDATE.


A picture of a press conference room has appeared. It’s very drab. Some parts of walls seem very irregular, almost like a cave wall. The reporters are milling about.

“… Margaret, I think this is unprecedented that we were blindfolded before being brought to this room.”

“Tim, do you have any idea where we are?”

“No,” said Tim turning toward the camera, “we then are reporting to you from an unknown location, and we await the beginning of a press conference. This has been an extraordinary few days and we seem to be on a war footing.”

Margaret said, “It’s been so strange that some sources have suggested that we’re under attack by aliens from outer space.”

“I don’t think that’s it — they issue special visas to aliens from outer space. Don’t they?”

“Ha, that’s funny… wait, we’re getting the two minute warning (people get to a chair before we get the song and dance — this is a nervous crowd and there are not enough chairs).”


President Zusoiti Gives a Speech

A spokesperson stepped up to the podium. There was still a lot of commotion in the room and reporters jockeyed for a good position. “… I present to you the President…”

Zusoiti rushed in and almost knocked over the spokesperson at the podium. She said, “Let’s get started. Having been duly sworn, I declare myself your President, and High Priestess. You may call me Fevepo Zusoiti or Your Majesty.” There was laughter in the room. “Please, decorum; we have a lot to do (Guards, remove that one over there — the laughing hyena. That one will not be laughing anymore when he gets to the maximum security mevltikacle. Aha, we have an extra chair. The hyena will face the music). Make yourself comfortable, focused, and attentive — we have many items to cover.

She continued, “The first order of business is that Congress must convene immediately in emergency session. First, my new cabinet choices will be ratified.

“Next, I will be suggesting new Amendments to the Constitution, and thus, suddenly enlightened, two thirds of Congress shall find in their hearts they deem it necessary to propose Amendments to the Constitution coincidentally like mine, and which also three fourths of the State Legislatures will find delightful.

“Thirdly, I will outline the methods that are already underway to bring on an Ice Age.” There was utter cacophony and hubbub like the chairs were in fallen leaves from notebooks, rustling and squeaking. “Please, have some patience. The caterers have arrived and there will be refreshments afterwards. There will be plenty of time later to relax: we will be having a game of musical chairs with prizes, and a yoga class. For now, pay careful attention to my words…” There was incredible noise in the room. Zusoiti continued, “Well, perhaps we should take a short time out to thin the herd. Please return in one half hour and you may want to research ‘Submarine Volcanos and Hydrothermal Vents’. The conference, computer, and dining rooms are available for your pleasure and study.”


What a mess. This all started when Zusoiti was lured out of the cave to the up-top world, and in her absence was voted off the Grand Council and replaced with Zawmb’yee as High Priestess. It was probably not legal, so theoretically, if Zusoiti showed up in person at the Kmpamew, she could reclaim her position as High Priestess in her own body. But it all depends on who is loyal to tradition, and if there would be a palace coup. Oh hell, oh Kievifkwa, oh who knows.




I slept well for a change. Nothing much happening and I finally made it through the day without any interruptions and put my dinner in the oven without burning myself.

This has worked out well. The lasagna is great and I can just relax and watch the tame murder mystery and not have to see the commission of the actual crime… just a lot of amiable people and genteel criminals and such… . And not again?


“We interrupt all programming for a special report. The emergency broadcast system has been activated. This is not a test. This is not a test. Standby for important information…”

Now what? A hurricane, tsunami? Nuclear war? A shortage of toilet paper? Sometimes, it’s been nothing: a minor storm warning that fizzled. There have been a lot of false alarms since they started using the system for weather instead of just Nuclear War and things like that. It used to be that the Emergency Broadcast System was never triggered for real. It always said, “This is a test. This is only a test. Had there been an actual emergency, the broadcasters in your area would have issued instructions and blah, blah, I think…” Maybe this time they are not ‘crying wolf’.