Archive for the Possibly Dangerous to Everyone Category

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: One Nation Verboten

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Economic Redistribution, Much Too Good For Children, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on June 17, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

“As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”

(H. L. Mencken, writing for the Baltimore Evening Sun on 26 July 1920)

Although this quote was written many years before, it was not until the election of George W. Bush to the presidency that it seemed that indeed, the “chickens had finally come home to roost”  and Mencken’s prophesy had in fact been fulfilled,

This was followed shortly thereafter by a change in the economy from the first (inherited) budget surplus in almost one hundred years into a seventeen trillion dollar deficit, and the near-collapse of the American, and eventually, World Economies whose bailout was carried on the backs of the working Middle-Class to protect the privileges of those whose short-sighted greed and excess had caused it.

(It would have been far cheaper and more logical after all, to put the bankers and the legislators who abetted them in jail, buy the houses from the banks at cost, rather than at their added ballon-payment interest rates, and let the people pay back the same government that would have saved the bankers, rather than their homes, for instance.)

But of course, the nationalization of that much real estate to do something effective to aid our own people and save the economy without regard to the protection of a corrupt group of privileged insiders would undoubtedly end up being labeled as “Socialist” and we have already been conditioned to hate even a little potential Communism far more than an endless amount of Corruption.

But it wasn’t until the election of 2016 that perhaps the most sinister aspect of that predication, which had somehow gone unnoticed became glaringly apparent, although it is in the first, not the last sentence that our doom was prophesied.

“…As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people…”

It took the mind of an only marginally intelligent or sane home-grown political strategist who had built his fortunes upon treachery, lies, smoke and mirrors, emotional drama, blackmail, dis-information, denial and fraud, being totally without any scruples, and little substance to mange to become a culture-hero able to align and rally paranoid, anti-intellectual religious simpletons, racists, jingoistic xenophobes, misogynists and most businessmen into one unified voting body politic in order to get himself elected to the presidency of a country so full of angry, fearful, superstitious and mean-spirited pricks that his victory was guaranteed long before the first ballot was cast.

And “the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last….”

(Even if only by being at best considered by too many who saw him as “the lesser of two evils.”)

Given the choice between even a nominally intellectual or educated usurper of the will of the people, with her own history of fraud, lies and deceptions who at least preached tolerance and understanding, and a clearly unbalanced and emotionally retarded snake-oil salesman:

Always bet on large groups of stupid people to do the bidding of the sort of cynical crook who will convince them of things he himself does not believe, but thinks they are ignorant enough to accept.

Always bet on those charlatans to channel the hatred, fear, and resentments of those so enslaved by their own beliefs that they profess to even love their collars and chains; who will do no end of evil at his bidding and surrender the very rights they profess to love, to protect what they are allowed to call their freedom.

…To never underestimate the potential for the tyranny of evil men to prevail.

(After all, many, if not most of the entire animal kingdom will go so far as to kill or even eat each other under the right circumstances allowed by their respective tribe or pack, much like what humans call Justifiable Homicide.)

Animals however, rarely kill anything they don’t eat, (except for the males, whenever mating rights or territory are involved) and they don’t have to hate their dinner in order to kill or eat it.

It should not have surprised the Liberal/Intellectual Left-Behinds that no matter how blatantly false or illogical the pronouncements or actions of this Mussolini-esque harlequin, no matter how loud their protests or indignations (as well as those of the rest of the world), nothing changed amongst his supporters, who managed to keep him in power and seemed as ubiquitous as Christ on the Cross, Mickey Mouse, and Coca-Cola.

…And their anger, hatred and fear was as vast and unlimited as the Pacific.

Then, suddenly, several months before his re-election, in the middle of what promised to be the mother of all last stands of liberal opposition determined to prevent his re-election (which was undoubtedly doomed to yet another crushing failure), within three days time, first the Federal Reserve Banks were destroyed and rendered radioactive by terrorists for almost purely psychological purposes, and then The Armageddon Virus drained the world banking systems of all of their collective assets, and finally rendered the entire Internet, as well as any and all computers using it useless.

Much like Stuxnet, it contained many interlocking Zero-Day vulnerabilities and Doomsday self-destruct sequences targeting not only the computers themselves, but also any equipment connected to or controlled by it.

In a world devoid of either computers, Faith, or Money, the infrastructure of the Western world collapsed in less than a week, with no police or troops to control the riots or looting, and no firemen to put out the flames or paramedics to take anyone to the failed hospital systems.

No public safety, public or private schools, electricity, clean running water, solid waste treatment plants, mass transit, mass media, or grocery stores, but plenty of mass hysteria.

No Social Security. No unemployment compensation or disability checks. No public dole of any kind.

By the time that he became the first president to commit suicide, there was no news media in any form to report it, few interested in reading it, and no one ready to step up to the plate to assume the chain of command of a wrecked nation in flames.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the natural ascendancy of self-determination, ruthless pragmatism, life-sustaining skill-sets, and as always, blind luck and questionable circumstances would produce the leaders, movers and shakers, producers and reapers of the boundless opportunities created by way of mass economic re-distribution, but it would be an agonizingly long time at best.

And maybe…just maybe for the first time since the beginnings of recorded history, it would not be determined by wealth, position, social status or privilege, inherited aristocracies or fortunes, sex, race, religious, or ethnic affiliation…at least not at first.

(Keep in mind, it’s not so much that human nature was changed all that much, but it would of course, take time to establish who’s gang was the most powerful; even if only for the fleetest blink of a second, that field was leveled long enough to provide a window of opportunity for the truly smartest and the fittest to not only survive, but flourish and thrive….)

This is the type of self-determinism that would have given Heinlein an erection (were he still alive) while he tried to use “the present state of affairs” to explain to the ghost of Ayn Rand the paucities of Objectivism, now that Reverse Evolution had been stopped dead in its tracks.

In the blink of an eye, the perspectives of nearly every living human on the planet changed, although generally in proportion to just how much privilege they had lost.

Americans, the most pampered and spoiled of all, went from whining about pay raises, real or imagined sarcasms, their feelings of low self-esteem, their endless blame-shifting and refusal to accept responsibility for their own present circumstances,  feeling unappreciated or undervalued, or the insensitive remarks of anyone in general, to being genuinely thankful for not being killed, raped, and/or eaten, let alone worrying from where their next meal was to come.

They had taken so much for granted for so long that they forgot:

> how good it is just to not be a part of the food chain, or

what it takes to be a real top predator.

> what it’s like to be totally dependent upon and responsible for their own thoughts and actions to determine the length and quality of their lives.

> that nothing is either forgiven or forgotten, much less guaranteed.

> that you do not require forgiveness for Sins invented and created in someone else’s image.

> that only your family, clan, or tribe will be there to pick you up and help you get back on your feet when you fall…if you are lucky.

> …the rest will only be there to pick your pockets and bones.

> that every day is Judgement Day.

> that no amount of money will replace the memory of your everyday lives as your family grew up and you grew old, or the fact that you learned to value it too late.

> what they gave up when they traded their lives for money, and their Instincts for Reason.

> that they don’t have to ask permission, apologize, or face denial of their rights of freedom and movement to pursue their desires.

Yes, undoubtedly, most people in very poor health would not suffer for very long, with no money to be made by keeping them alive like vegetables on a farm, or by planting them elsewhere for longer periods in smaller, far more expensive patches of real estate with only lawn maintenance to be factored.

Yes, it was also found to be true that many of the diseases and maladies of their artificially increased lifespans were induced by a lack of exercise, bloodless violence, stress, and thankless pursuits of objectives completely removed from their own activities of daily living, perhaps even giving credence to long-debunked myths about how your conscience somehow punished you for your own wrongdoing and its associated, accumulated guilt.

They learned that by eating or drinking too much to try to subvert appetites for other more natural, and life-affirming pursuits, one induces or at least encourages Type II diabetes, congestive heart failure, and hypertension.

…that “Only in America” could a “Couch Potato,”  let alone a six-hundred pound human incapable of feeding itself exist at all.

…or that no medication can cure the depression caused by the paralyzing realization of the falseness, emptiness, and futility of anyone’s life unless they take arms against a sea of tormentors and the slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes bred by false desires, ignorance, addictions, and suffering.

And finally, most, if not almost all of the money they became convinced they needed to buy possessions to fill holes in their spirits as big as Existentialism itself was as unnecessary as the imaginary false Hierarchy of the (New) Needs by which they had been hypnotized or the long-gone understanding or memory of Maslow’s originals.

They soon realized that lofty ideals alone would not protect anyone, because Enlightenment and Compassion can only stay the executioner’s hand when it is under the control of the victor.

First, one has to survive in order to live long enough to savor one’s existence. Sentience, Enlightenment and Compassion are acquired tastes.

A more accurate modern translation of René Descartes’ original hypothesis might have instead been “I think, therefore I desire that which I do not need, thereby I suffer in pain, and fear, and therefore I am.”

“God (sic) protect me from all the Good People…especially your followers.” (unk. origin). The depth of their self-righteous hatred, fear and evil knows no bounds.

So much for “…the inner soul of the people…”

Be careful what you wish for.

Sayonara Y’all…

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

06/16/2017

(out-of-sequence; chapter tbd later…also please keep in mind that true to my own genre of Enhanced and Fortified Non-Fiction, this piece starts in my somewhat altered reality of the here and now as well as the there and then before launching into the indulgences of my apocryphal visions of what the future may hold.)

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: (unk. chapter, out of sequence, tbd)

Posted in Economic Redistribution, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Polyamory on June 1, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

Jed Drummond awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. It had been a long day’s journey to reach their camp; a temporary outpost so far off the beaten path as not to be discovered, it afforded safety in its isolation and a hidden underground larder of fuel and other supplies that would be needed for the last leg of his journey.

It was one of many FBO’s (fixed base of operations) that he used to conduct his business ventures.

By the time he had pitched his tent and set up camp, he was exhausted. Thankfully he slept undisturbed for longer than he could remember. It was so quiet that the dog had not even barked once.

He had slept most of the night in the “dreamless sleep of the dead,” as he called it, and it wasn’t until early morning that he began to dream of earlier, simpler times so easy as to be taken for granted; so much so that they were more conspicuous in their absence than when their luxury was everywhere amidst a sea of humanity drowning in its discontent.

As he slowly awoke, like a fish coming to the surface from the bottom of the sea, he heard soft feminine voices in hushed tones and the occasional clink or clatter one would associate with breakfast’s preparations.

This alone was such a luxury as he had not known for a very long time. He was usually the first to awake, and until recently, more often than not, alone. Although rarely wanting for company, he had chosen to live alone ever since his divorce, more years ago than he cared to remember.

Phrases like “familiarity breeds contempt” or “absence makes the heart grow fonder” had been his guiding principles in times when the ambience of loneliness wafted like a heavy musk amongst the desperate souls trying fill a void that could not be displaced by money, security, or objects.

In the process, he had lost contact with all of his closest friends, mostly women, who grew weary of waiting for him to “seal the deal” despite the fact that he believed that somehow, circumstances even he could not foresee would bring them back together again.

He believed they all needed time and space to mature and learn life lessons they would never experience willingly at each other’s hands within the smothering, stifling influences of either marriage or even monogamy.

More than once, he had begun to doubt those beliefs, but there was no way to turn back the clock, and he already knew that the only thing worse than the pangs of solitude was the suffocating tandem loneliness bereft of privacy or independence that two resentful souls, each a prisoner of the other’s misguided and fearful intentions could inflict upon each other in the name of Love.

He was right that there was no way for him to turn back the hands of time, but the Armageddon Virus had effectively stopped the clock of Western civilization dead in its tracks.

A misguided, digital, binary Jihad launched by opportunists who invoked the name of Allah to distort the teachings of Islam, fed by the endless provocations of those who would use the names of their gods to fuel an endless spiral of hatred and violence on both sides, it had seemed the End of Days was upon them all.

Yet beyond that, it was pure chance that had brought them back together.

As he awoke this morning, finally realizing how much he now cherished this Here and Now moment amongst newly reunited old friends brought together by circumstance and common cause, this gratitude he felt was so overwhelming that he sighed deeply, eyes still unopened as he felt a lump grow in his  throat.

For years, he had not allowed himself the luxury of tears, whether of joy or sorrow. “Men don’t cry.” He had been raised to believe their was something wrong with him, even as a child, when circumstances too sorrowful for words had prompted him to allow his weakness to show, until early in his twenties, when his mother had died and his father, the toughest, yet kindest man he had ever known suddenly wept like a baby in front of him.

It so unnerved him that they never spoke of it again, until his father passed away, leaving him overcome with self-contempt over the most basic of human emotions.

Now, years later, in a world of chaos, loss, death, and despair, it had become the Tears of Joy that had been the hardest to suppress. Ironically, it had taken the collapse of Western civilization to put him in touch with an abiding sense of gratitude that permeated every blossom, or cool breeze, sip of clean water, or kind face he saw wherever he looked.

But old habits are hard to break, and as The Three Winds (as he called them) parted the flaps of his tent, bringing with them coffee, breakfast, and cannabis, he laughed and shook his head, coughing lightly to mask how glad he was just to be alive, right here, right now.

Chazz Vincent

05/31/2017

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: “…but wait!…there’s More!

Posted in Liason Between Parties, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, NSFW, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on May 13, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

Chapter Seventeen, Part Two

(Jed):

“I have to admit that I’ve lost track of how many languages Amy speaks, but she usually manages to communicate or at least listen to make sure they’re not talking shit about us right under our noses.”

(Leigh-Ann):

”More often than not, somebody involved on the other end tries to ‘re-negotiate’ the deal at the last minute, but you won’t find a better haggler than her; in fact I’ve even seen her raise the price just to teach them a lesson for trying, with all of us ready to walk on her cue. But here’s the really beautiful part…she can argue any angle from either direction, and make it sound like the only option to take.”

“It works like this: she knows how to play the egos of any man she deals with because she always gives them a way to feel good about themselves when they do business with her because she never lets her real intelligence show unless she absolutely has to; but even if she has to put them in their place, she gives them some kind of out so they can pretend to have won by doing what she wanted in the first place.”

“She says that all those psychology courses gave her insights into channelling talents she already possessed.”

“All I can say is that it’s a gift she has; twenty years ago we weren’t exactly the best of friends, but we’ve both learned a great deal since then, and have developed a mutual admiration and I can tell you right here and now that to observe her working a deal is a thing of beauty.” 

“Rebel also brings her tattoo gear along. I don’t think we have ever made a trip out that somebody hasn’t wanted to trade something extremely valuable or desirable for one of her works of art. It’s getting so that people look out for us just to meet her. She has  a growing cult of fans that keep driving up the value of her work.”

“She is more or less considered the visionary artist of the Apocalypse. People are again starting to believe that certain talismans and symbols impart invulnerability to their wearers; hell, she won’t ever consider doing a tat unless she looks into their soul first; she calls it scrying…learned it from her grandmother.”

“But she picked up Wicca after she left Virginia; after her grandma died she started studying Shamanism from the local Cherokee, Algonquin and Chickahominy tribes.”

“There are places we go where we get safe passage just because she is with us. I’m not saying she doesn’t have some kind of miraculous talent, but  the worse that times get, the more that people turn to the Meta realm for protection.”

“Taken on balance, we are something between Santa Claus, a carnival, a traveling medicine, monster truck and gun show, and a flea market, except we are very scrupulous about making sure that everyone feels they got a fair trade for whatever they want, which is usually something nobody else has, or better quality than what is available elsewhere.”

(Rebel):

“We also give a lot of shit away to the locals. If we shoot a wild hog or a deer, we cook for everyone who shows up until it’s all gone. Our barbecues are famous. We also fix fish, ‘gator or frogs when they are available, as well as cabbage palm, which is called ‘swamp cabbage’ here in the Southeast.”

“We like to bring the party with us wherever we go, but the goodwill it generates is something we kind of stumbled onto while we were out on the road.”

 (Jed):

“Nobody with even a little bit of good sense wants to rob or harm us…and if anybody tried, the locals everywhere would come to our rescue (if we actually needed it) because we are loved, needed AND feared.”

(Rebel):

“In fact, about six months ago, this drunk asshole tried to put his hands all over Amy; it was almost sundown…called her a slut and ripped her shirt off…really big guy, a truly intimidating bully…with a very bad rep in that area…got used to getting his way with the locals.”

“He jumped her from behind, but before she could even get up, people came out of nowhere and beat the living shit out of him. They hog-tied him and said they were going to lynch him right then and there.”

“I sure didn’t have any problem wth that; if they hadn’t grabbed him first I would have taken him out right then and there, but Jed stepped up and told them all to stop…the guy was already beat so bad that I doubted that he could have survived anyway, but Jed not only talked them out of it, but then he had Leigh-Ann treat his injuries, set his broken bones and even gave him antibiotics.”

“I thought Jed was nuts at first; called him a pussy for not standing up for Amy…(not in front of anyone else of course) but I didn’t see the logic in doing that. I thought it would hurt our rep, but the guy also had a family; wife and kids, parents, brothers and sisters.”

“So Jed starts talking to what was for all intents and purposes a very self-righteous lynch-mob. The guy was still unconscious and bleeding very badly. Jed thanked them all for standing up to this guy that had intimidated them all for years…turns out he used to be the sheriff in fact…he praised them for their courage, but then he said ‘look…you proved that you don’t have to fear him anymore, but if you kill him, you better kill his whole family right then and there, ‘cause they will want revenge.’ Then he said mercy is a luxury of the powerful and the wise, and how justice is not compromised by kindness, so give him just one more chance to see the error of his ways.”

“But then Jed added that if he steps out of line just one more time, take out his whole family…even the kids, and if they think they can’t handle it, get on the radio and let him know because we will personally come back and do it ourselves…no mercy, no prisoners, no survivors, and zero possibility for revenge.”

“We stayed on until he was well enough to understand we meant business, and made sure his whole family knew the consequences if they didn’t all behave. His parents were elderly, and embarrassed by him because they already knew he was a cruel piece of shit. They were old-fashioned Southern Baptists, so Jed knew just how to  appeal to their Christian values, and the rest of the family was just glad to still be alive.”

“Now every time we go back there, the locals all come to Jed for advice, like he was fuckin’ Solomon or something, but that story has made the rounds all  over Florida, so most people know not to fuck with us,”

“A few have tried…but….(Jed’s voice trails off as he stares at Chiana.)

(Leigh-Ann smiles slightly, looks down and shakes her head, sighs, and resumes control):

“Rebel even does a full-body armor tattoo that involves having the subjects allow themselves to be bitten by a rattlesnake before she soul-gazes into their eyes in a sweat lodge.

“Apparently, it’s part of an Apache warrior’s ritual with just a touch of Yakuza and a dash of VooDoo.”

“She’s become the closest equivalent  to a rock star that these times have produced…so far…except for the ArchAngels, who were already famous.”

Elliott and Chiana exchanged glances at the mention of the ArchAngels; they had become fans of the band before the Armageddon Virus hit the reset button on all Western Civilization up to that point.

(Elliott):

“The ArchAngels!…are they still around?”…I mean, after the shit hit the fan, that was pretty much the end of mass media, I thought.”

(Leigh-Ann just laughed as she shook her head, smiling and wetting her lips with her tongue as she rolled her eyes.):

“Well, yes, as far as national sales of just about anything like that, I’d say you were right, but…but just stop to consider that where they live, they are the local talent…well, there’s a lot more to that story to be covered later. I didn’t mean to take us so far off topic just yet.”  There was a glimmer of a sly smile as she re-directed the conversation back to her original destination.

 

Chazz Vincent

05/13/2017

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: “…but wait!…there’s More!

Posted in Liason, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on May 13, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

Chapter Seventeen, Part One

Elliott continued to ponder what Jed had just proposed.

(Chiana):

“That’s a lot to consider, but what you say makes good sense. Based on our own experiences outside the Colony, I have to agree with you as far as what it’s like out there, and you seem to be pretty well connected with the development of the current state of events, which begins to answer the question I raised about why we may need to become involved….”

“But if you will indulge me in no small amount of curiosity…I couldn’t be more pleased to see these new female faces around here…Jed, we understand what you do in your operation, but….”

(Amy):

“I bet you were wondering what we do…right?” Amy’s expression was open and compassionate as she touched Chiana’s forearm and nodded, smiling, as magick sparkled in her eyes..

(Jeanette/Rebel/Rebecca):

“I bet she would…hey Chiana!…wanna watch us perform? We’re not what you would call shy….” Rebecca’s sly grin, followed by a wink might have intimidated some women, but not Chiana.

(Amy):

“Becca!… Come on now…that’s not what she meant, and you know it…don’t be so anxious…I’m sure we’ll get around to that later…(as Amy snickers, which accidentally turns into a tiny snort, a trait of hers that she finds extremely embarrassing, although she manages to transform into a giggle) You’re such a kidder!….”

(Leigh-Ann):

“Lady’s, if I may take over from here, maybe we’ll answer Chiana’s question before sundown; any objections to that?” Leigh-Ann was the most reserved and businesslike of the trio. She had a great sense of humor, but when it came to taking care of business, the nurse/supervisor/mother took over. She was gracious and self-assured, which was a characteristic that had immediately appealed to Chiana, a former nurse herself.

(Chiana):

“Please do.”

(Leigh-Ann):

“You know, I keep telling Jed that he has the easiest part in our whole operation, and every time I think about it, I become more convinced that I’m right, but let’s face it…women have carried the weight of the world since the beginning of time, and that is why we have evolved into the superior version of the human species. I already know that you know that, so I won’t belabor the point…”

“Our trade routes and contacts are a part of the operation that were a product of Jed’s considerable talents, and he gets credit for being the mastermind, and there is no denying his charisma, but he quickly realized that an operation of this magnitude required assistance. Organizational skills are not one of Jed’s strongest assets, and as I recall, neither was Elliott’s, unless he has changed his stripes, right?”

Chiana nodded in agreement as she flashed a knowing look at Elliott.

“Most of the logistics are under my supervision. Inventory, balances and credits, deadlines and schedules get my attention. Even going from a cashless society to a money-less economy still requires records and bookkeeping.” 

“I also take requests if a team member wants a particular piece of gear or some new weapon and make sure it gets translated into a specific  shopping list and assigned to a specific budget.”

“Depending on the merchandise and terrain, Jed usually either drives a military two and a half ton transport truck called a ‘deuce and a half’ or an eighteen-wheeled semi-tractor/trailer combo. Sometimes we take both, in which case Rebel drives one of the vehicles.”

“In either case, we always travel with four motorcycles, and carry the ones not being driven with us, just in case.”

“At least two of the bikes escort the caravan, one in front and one behind. If we have the luxury, a third rider goes on point at least a mile ahead of everybody else. Everyone is wired for radio and video as well.”

“Mordecai either rides shotgun in one of the trucks, in the sidecar, or in the back with the cargo.”

“Usually the lead bike carries a light machine gun like the M4, or a full auto pistol, as well as either a grenade launcher, bazooka, rocket launcher or mortar, plus a chosen sidearm and edged weapon.”

 “The bike following the caravan carries  some form of assault  rifle, a Barrett 50 cal, and a shotgun, plus the usual sidearms and edged weapons.”

“The deuce and a half, the airboats and 4X4 trucks are all mounted with a twin-mount, semi-synchronized pair of bull- barreled M249’s with box-fed belt ammo that uses either a game-boy joy stick or a heads-up display from a helicopter helmet to control aim and fire.”

“On the roof of the semi, we mounted an M2A1 50 cal. heavy machine gun called the ‘Ma Deuce’ , that utilizes similar electronic control as well as a variable nine-power video scope. It has a lethal range of four miles, which if necessary, could keep hostiles completely out of the range of their weapons.”

“We also use night vision helmets and remote cameras whenever the occasion arrises.”

(Jed):

“You won’t believe what you can barter out there, as long as you have what they want. The weapons, the vehicles, the gear, not to mention the food, drinks, and miscellaneous entertainment expenses are all acquired through this business of trading that I do.”

“When it comes to work, most people would say something like ‘I’m not here to have a good time, or make fiends’…but as a matter of fact, well…that’s the only reason I can think of to go to work in the first place, so I make sure that every one of us wants for nothing…until the shit hits the fan, and then we don’t stop’ ’til its over and the fat lady has already done an encore.”

“Plus, there are many places where we bring together all sorts of suppliers, purveyors and merchants to one place at the same time for a trade show that accomplishes two things: first, we get all the vendors and brokers of the Apocalypse together in one place, so that we can trade, and share information.”

“It also gives the locals a glimpse of the closest thing they will ever get to one mother of a monster truck show. To them, it is fantasy entertainment, so we have become celebrities. We also deal in commodities they may want to trade for something we need.”

“Every once in a while, some douche-bag tough guy thinks he can rob us, rip us off, or kill us and just walk away from it with impunity who ends up forcing us to show our real muscle, including a tightly organized  plan with contingencies for every imaginable scenario that might threaten us.”

(Amy):

“We rehearse the routines just like kata in karate. I named it the ‘Ballet of Death’ . It’s really a thing of great beauty…except for whoever sets it in motion, in which case, it’s pretty much their ass. Even then, we try to give them a good show, because it will be the last thing they ever see.”

(Jed):

“Everyone covers everybody else’s back. It’s been an extreme form of overkill most of the time…in fact, all of the time so far, but we have a reputation to maintain, and a clearly overwhelming superiority of force helps keep things peaceful.”

 

Chazz Vincent

05/13/2017

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: “…Go Ahead, I’m Listening…”

Posted in Liason, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on April 22, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

Chapter Sixteen, Part II

“Blue Agave Moon…I already have an idea for a label for it.” (Jed)

“But why?” (Elliott)

“Because you want people to identify with your product on sight.” (Jed)

“No…that’s not what I meant; I meant why make a market for it in the first place? I have almost everything I have ever wanted in my life right here, right now. I don’t want to be famous…I would prefer people did not even know I existed. I know this may surprise you, but I am really happier than I have ever been in my entire life. My life is simple and uncomplicated.” (Elliott)

”We haven’t even had to shoot any intruders for several months.” (Chiana)

“Remember what I said…the world is changing again…just like it always has been, except for the fact that people like you and I are in a position to maintain, er even increase our control over the parts of it that give you pleasure, satisfaction or security.”

“People are starting to get hypnotized by gold and silver again. Don’t ask me why…I could never figure out why emeralds were supposed to be worth less than a quarter of what diamonds the same size would bring, despite the fact that emeralds are nine times more scarce than diamonds, and I think, much prettier.”

“There are even some individuals who have managed to acquire enough material possessions and influence to be able to function as freestanding banks; they print their own money, and anybody who does business with them uses their money out of convenience.”

“Some are even providing support and logistics to people they know and trust in order to build, re-build or even supply payrolls for any kind of industry that can make something they consider valuable, including repair parts for other industries. It’s primitive and very limited, but there are people out there who intend to restore the parts of our infrastructure that will enable them to prosper and acquire wealth. (Jed)

“Most of these people have been financially involved with these new banks in the past, which makes it convenient to use their money as long as all the people involved agree to use it as a standard, because they trust the printer…they believe in his “wealth” so he doesn’t have to barter for what he wants.”

“In early post-colonial America, ‘Bank Notes’ printed by the institution that issued them were common, but counterfeiting was relatively easy back then, and they were almost useless in long-distance exchanges.”

“Before the internet collapsed along with the world banking system, remember that whole thing with bit-coins? As long as all parties concerned mutually recognize the value of anything, it can be used as money.”

 “Bartering is, as you already know, a time-consuming enterprise that is not without certain risks, of which we are all aware.”

“I have found a way of tapping into that stream of wealth in a way that affords me EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED as well as a very real connection with others who benefit from having me act as an intermediary between parties of like interest and values.” (Jed)

“Perhaps you neglected to notice that Elliott already said we have almost everything now, and we rarely ever need to leave our home…at least not without exposing ourselves to an outside world that is treacherous and fraught with many dangers.”  (Chiana)

“And what about those times when you did need to venture forth to find something you needed or wanted in a world of chaos and murder? (Jed)

“Well, it inevitably became a quest, an expedition of unknown length or magnitude that did not always yield the desired product, although sometimes we found something of value that we could convert into something that we could trade for what we really wanted, once we found the right source.” (Chiana)

“Exactly; and that is where I come in. Why leave home at all if you can use someone else to run your errands, assume the risk, and get you exactly what you need in less time with no danger to you while you stay at home and make more?” (Jed)

“Well, to tell the truth, sometimes I do get a bit restless…they used to call it ‘cabin fever’…I know it’s dangerous, but I actually looked forward to traveling and bartering, at least until we ended up someplace we didn’t want to be, or if things got ugly…and after two attempted ambushes and one unsuccessful robbery that turned into a real bloodbath…well, I do see your point.” (Chiana)

“I’m surprised she hasn’t shown you her scar already…I think she’s actually proud of it, considering the fact that the guy that shot her ended up taking a round through the left eye, which blew the back of his head off…single shot, fast draw. I was really impressed; I also tried to convince her that it wasn’t necessary to empty the rest of the magazine into his groin, but she was understandably angry and after all, it was her first kill…” (Elliott)

“It was all reflex. Elliott made me practice ’til I almost got to hating it. Now I understand why. It was all over before I had realized what happened…” (Chiana)

“Yeah, as I recall, that’s part of the gauntlet that Elliott has put us all through…it’s like a rite of passage…even back before Armageddon…I remember many an afternoon at Hialeah Gun Range or Tamiami…” (Amy looks wistfully and winks at Elliott as Chiana finds herself slightly surprised when she is forced to stifle a sudden jealous twinge.)

“It was like he has been warming up for the Apocalypse his whole life…back then it seemed more than a little edgy and slightly weird, even to me, but I guess he got the last laugh after all.” (Rebel/Jeanette)

“So you’ve got scars?” (Leigh-Ann)

“No…sorry, I don’t smoke…”  (Chiana)

(Everybody groans)

“It was just a grazing wound, thankfully…but it burned like hell almost instantly…before I had realized I already shot the guy…it passed right between my thighs, but grazed me here.” (Chiana pulls up the left leg of her cargo shorts right up to her crotch, revealing a three inch long keloid scar very high on the inside of her thigh)

“Hey, don’t stop on account of me…” (Jed)

“Don’t you think it’s a little early for the grand tour?” (Chiana)

“I think we’re getting a little bit off subject, even though this is a fascinating story …(Leigh-Ann) 

“I have to reluctantly agree, but the point is that you have created Paradise right here. To the best of my knowledge, no one else knows exactly who you are or where you live. That is good for many reasons, but one of the additional advantages of your anonymity is it lends an air of mystery and curiosity to your product.”

“If you tripled your output of Blue Agave Moon, there would still be enough demand to continue to raise the perceived value of the product.”

“In the process, after a mutually agreed percentage is set, I would propose to trade part of it back to you in return for lodging, hopefully with an option to become a citizen of your colony.” (Jed)

“Excuse me, but just to be clear, He means all four of us.” (Rebel)

“I stand corrected…yes, and we recognize the fact that you will want to discuss this with the fellow residents, and I am also sure that we can provide them with access to our services in a way that will be mutually beneficial to them as well.” (Jed)

“What percentage of what?” (Chiana)

“It depends on with whom I am trading. I’ll give you an example; say I trade a gallon of Blue Agave Moon to a weapons and munitions dealer that I know for a thousand rounds of 7.62 x 39mm…you still have your AK, right?” (Jed)

“Of course.” (Elliott)

“In fact, we have two now…Elliott gave me his Chinese Norinko semi-auto after he got a Bulgarian full-auto about a year ago.” (Chiana)

“Great! Now if we agreed to, say twenty percent commission, I would get two hundred rounds, which I could either keep or trade for something else I needed. Now, regardless of what I do with my share, in exchange for being allowed to live here, if I reduced my rate to ten percent commission, you would either get nine hundred rounds, or half of what I got if I traded my two hundred rounds for something else you also wanted.” 

“I also know several other people who trade in gold or silver, or their own printed money which is sort of a promissory note that is really only good in their own locale by people who deal with them. I know you have no interest in any of that, but I can use it to get you other things you want.” (Jed)

“Gold? I thought that got the kiss of death after the nuclear meltdowns under the Federal Reserve banks…why would anybody trust any gold…or silver?”

“Because I managed to acquire a sixties-era Geiger counter that had been made for Civil Defense issue during the cold war back when people were building bomb shelters in their basements and back yards. You’d be surprised at how much “hot” metal got into circulation before the public learned about it.” (Jed)

“That’s the problem with wealth and power…the more you get, the more you want. I am not sure I want to risk my autonomy and privacy for material things I don’t really need.” (Elliott)

“And I don’t want you to either; that’s why we want to live here too, but you need to remember that the world does not stand still. No matter how it evolves, those who have acquired the means of power will end up controlling those who have not…you need to prepare…even if it’s just to keep what they already have.”

“This is your chance to secure your position in the future.” (Jed)

 

Chazz Vincent

04/22/2017

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Modest Proposal, Part 2

Posted in Collaboration, Liason, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on April 7, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

Chapter Fifteen

The kitchen, pantry, and dining facility was both unique and ingenious. Initially, it was simply the trailer in which Elliott and Chiana had lived. Before that, Elliott had brought it to the Colony as a hunting lodge.

Now most of it was a very spacious dining room, and the bedrooms were used as a pantry and contained the refrigerators and freezers.

The stoves were in a separate room built of concrete block that adjoined the trailer. Much like homes built in the nineteenth century, the kitchen was built to insulate the heat of the kitchen from the dining room, as well as to protect the rest of the house, should a fire occur.

The back wall was adjacent to the trailer. One side was solid, with the exception of a window. The other three sides were enclosed by garage doors which could be open for ventilation or closed according to the weather. The long side had two very wide double doors that would each have been used in a two-car garage, and each end had one double door. The roof was pitched and covered with corrugated steel.

Inside, a commercial Vulcan stove with eight burners, a griddle, and two ovens had been converted to use locally-produced methane gas instead of propane or natural gas. Next to it was an old-fashioned iron wood-burning stove, which was the original method of cooking used before electricity had been made available to the colony. Finally, a brick and mortar barbecue  complete with a chimney had been built so that it was sheltered from the sun or rain and could also function as a smoker.

The back wall was lined with stainless steel and the floor was poured cement which was slightly sloped towards a drain in the center which ran into a pea rock drain field that also carried water from the gutters away from the house.

A long counter ran along the open side and the pots and pans hung above it. Below the counter, the cabinets were open with no doors. Commercial kitchens also do not use cabinet doors because they obscure the view of what is inside and take up too much room when open. They are also a hazard. Anyone who has ever bent over and stood up into one, walked into one while carrying something or worked in a restaurant can appreciate why.

Sliding glass doors allowed for more than adequate ventilation of the dining room, and ceiling fans hung above the kitchen and dining room, run by solar power and/or batteries.

Whenever possible, every effort was made to minimize the use of alternating current without subjecting anyone to discomfort or hardship.

The dining room table was long enough to accommodate ten people, four on each side, and one on each end. Elliott had made it soon after they moved to the Colony. It was made from local cypress, very sturdy, and beautifully finished.

He was such a good cook that other members frequently would supply venison, wild hog, alligator, fish, or even beef that they had raised or brought in to have Elliott butcher and prepare it for them with the understanding that he also got a share of what they provided for himself. They also frequently ate in Elliott’s home, which they referred to as “Chez Monroe”.

He and Chiana liked the company and enjoyed entertaining. Most of the citizens of the Fourteenth Colony were gracious and sociable in a way not frequently encountered in most conventional neighborhoods, but which is common in campgrounds and trailer parks.

Paradoxically, as much as they valued their privacy and isolation, they also were outgoing and generous. Their community was essentially all they had; united by self-determinism, and rugged individualism; their interdependence encouraged a symbiosis of talents and skills.

Bereft of mass media, passive entertainment and social media, these residents not only became much more personally involved in the essential activities of daily living, but they also generally went to bed and got up earlier, which tended to encourage creativity, arts, crafts and hobbies.

It seemed clear that they wanted for little and enjoyed a far superior quality of life through mutualism than had ever been realized via capitalist consumerism, conspicuous consumption, communism, socialism, or utopian societies that had preceded them.

The longer that they resided there, the less Spartan or primitive their lives became once they were no longer hypnotized by money or the illusion of wealth.

It was not even immediately apparent that this building had once been a trailer. Substantial wooden siding now covered the aluminum skin. A durable hip roof coved the original, and the interior was similarly enhanced with hardwood paneling and floors.

Jed, Amy, Rebecca, and Leigh-Anne were visibly impressed by what they saw as they sat down to a table more sumptuous than any of them had seen since the last Thanksgiving before Armageddon.

They ate, drank and smoked the locally produced Cannabis as they caught up on old news and brought Chiana up to speed as to how this strange band of gypsies were now recruiting them to share in the adventure they aspired to experience.

Chiana was the first to finally address the giant elephant in the room.

“As much as I am glad to meet you all and want you to know you are always welcome here, I think we all know there is an agenda that has prompted your arrival; so what’s on your collective minds and how do Elliott and I fit into your plan?”

Jed was the first to speak.

Chazz Vincent

04/06/2017

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Modest Proposal

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Economic Redistribution, Liason Between Parties, Much Too Good For Children, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on April 3, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

Chapter Fourteen

Don’t forget that Elliott was there to witness Jed introduce himself to Chiana. He was also there to watch Jed, just by virtue of being his natural self, not only become completely distracted, but to also find himself speechless in the presence of his wife, who appeared to be equally spellbound by Jed.

There was nothing contrived within it, no way to rehearse for the performance. It was  true, and real, and honest. It would be safe to say that the four people who were there were equally unprepared and surprised.

There was nothing Jed did to provoke what happened, at least consciously, and nothing that could be said in derision of Chiana’s reactions, which were equally honest and without fault.

Most people would be angry, or feel threatened, but Elliott and Chiana were most definitely not most people, and that connection between Jed and Chiana was something that could neither be denied nor ignored.

It just was.

It would take some time to adjust to this most recent development, but in the meantime, jealousy and insecurity would only confuse and confound their abilities to reconcile it.

In the awkward silence that followed, suddenly Leigh-Anne snapped them all out of it In a way that only she seemed to be able to do.

“Soooooo…Jed, was there a question in there, somewhere, or were you about to make a point of some kind about something?”

“…uh…I’m sure there was, but for the life of me, I can’t remember….” Jed grinned sheepishly, but gave no evidence of any feelings of guilt. Neither he nor Chiana had any reason to feel guilty, and they knew Elliott well enough to know that full disclosure was the only acceptable mode of operation.

“Pleased to meet you, Jed.” Chiana said as she held out her hand to Jed.

“Likewise, Chiana” He said as he politely took her hand as one might do at a formal dinner, and then very ceremoniously bowed at the waist, and lightly kissed her hand. Chiana hoped no one could see the shiver that ran up her spine and down to her most tender parts.

There was no way that any of them could un-remember what they had just  watched take place.

“Well!, What a relief! And to think that I was worried that you two wouldn’t get along…”  Elliott managed to find a way to give them all an opportunity to laugh, albeit somewhat uncomfortably, which effectively de-fused the bomb.

It was also his way of letting everyone know that, in addition to not being blind or stupid, that he possessed the wherewithal to remember that Jed was his best friend, as was his wife Chiana.

When we try to fight or resist the reality of our present circumstances, we not only create, but we also guarantee our own misery.

When we embrace anything less than the plain, unvarnished truth, we invite falsehood, delusion, and self-deception.

The actions we choose, as well as the emotions that give birth to those actions will compel the  outcome of what will follow more than any other single factor.

Sometimes we succeed in the face of what had looked like inevitable failure by way of extraordinary effort, or of sheer dumb luck, and no effort, but whatever happens, the only way we can ever hope to find any peace, as well as the love we deserve is to accept the Here and Now, and then govern our actions accordingly in the present moment.

We have no control over the Past, but even if you believe you can prepare for your future, you have to accept what is, as it is now.

The Heart seeks what the heart wants, despite the rules or conventions our minds try to create so as to deny what is out of Fear of what might be.

“Elliott, where ever are our manners? I’m sure our friends must be hungry and thirsty after their ride here…” Chiana was quick to follow Elliott’s lead.

“I don’t want to sound pushy, but I also think we could use a nice hot bath, but if you can tolerate eight hours worth of accumulated sweat and road grime long enough to let us eat and drink first, we would love a meal.” Rebel said as she and Amy walked up together. “As I remember, Doc is one hell of a good cook.”

“Absolutely! There’s plenty to drink, and I barbecued last night, so you can have your pick of ribs, brisket, chicken, roast pork or gator tail.” Elliott said.

“And we also have sweet tea, ice water, and plenty of fresh fruit  juices, or I can make coffee for anyone who wants it” Chiana added. “but no more soft drinks…unfortunately, sometimes I get a craving for a Coke, or a ginger ale, but…I guess they was just more corollary damage from the Armageddon Virus…..”

“Plus we have home-brewed beer, a few varieties of wine, and what can pass for any kind of whiskey you like.” Elliott said as he waved his hand toward the buildings that occupied their compound.

“So I hear. Did you know that you have a very elite cult following of admirers of your distilled spirits?” Jed asked.

“Really? I have bartered and traded a few gallons here and there for materials and supplies or parts when we needed something we couldn’t make or do without, but I always do our business off-premises and I don’t even want anybody to know where we are, or what we do here.”

“Trust me, Elliott; it was not easy find you. I have spent the last six months trying to track you down, before I even realized it was you, but let’s talk about all that later after we get out of this hot sun…oh and by the way Chiana, If you want any kind of soft drink…even Yoo Hoo or Squirt, I can probably get it for you  ” 

“Really? Weren’t all those bottling plants shut down?” she queried.

“They were, but they’re still some large caches of all sorts of things in warehouses that can be bartered; I have developed a network of suppliers and buyers for almost anything you can think of, or desire. It is at least part of the reason we came here, but not the most important one, by any means.”

“Perhaps we can discuss it at length when we get inside while we eat.” Chiana gently placed her left hand behind Jed’s right bicep to gently grasp the inside of his arm as she began to walk with him.

“Well then, just follow us and we’ll get y’all fed before we give you the grand tour.” Elliott was smiling faintly at Chiana and Jed as he turned to Amy, Rebel, and Leigh-Anne. As he walked a few steps backward, he gave them the sign to follow him, palm up hand extended making an arc up toward his face. 

“What about my dog?” Rebel asked. “He’s well-trained, and gets along with  people and other animals as long as they behave themselves.”

“No problem” said Elliot. “He’ll fit in fine with our critters, and we have plenty for him to eat too. Did I hear you call him Mordecai?”

“Yeah, that’s right, it’s supposed to mean ‘Warrior’  but once I introduce you to him we’ll all be fine.”

Rebel called Mordecai over and they all did “touch” to introduce themselves before they went into the kitchen/dining area.

 

Chazz Vincent

03/02/2017

 

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