I wrote this for an anthology my publishing partner wanted to do, Monsters & Mormons, a reclaiming of our questionable literary heritage as pulp fiction villains. Even though this story is very niche, I’ve decided not to link to any clarifying information. Y’all are smart. You’ll figure it out.
I HAVE never been able to hide my moods, so all the way to work tonight, I’m afraid Ezekiel will know that I know. He can read minds, after all. I’m still tired, still grieving, and it’s going to take a great deal of effort to keep him out of my mind, my mind on my work, and my work acceptable, if not stellar.
As usual.
I get to the swamp and park where I usually do and hope Ezekiel doesn’t insist we go where we last hunted. I can’t bear to see the empty spot where my friend had stood tall and strong for two centuries.
Ezekiel killed her and now I don’t believe the demons ate her. I don’t believe that he’s here to figure out why the demons can kill living beings outright. He’s here on Lucifer’s whims.
But … how can that be? Wouldn’t the Parents know? And tell the general authorities? He could be acting—after all, he’d made his living working with a legend. It would explain the silence from on high, but I don’t understand what’s going on and my head is beginning to pound from the thinking about it. I’m dizzy, wanting only to go back to bed, even though I’ve slept the last twenty hours away. I press my gauntlet to my face to feel the chill of the artificially cooled titanium.
It’s hot and sticky in Louisiana in the summer time.
“So,” Ezekiel says from behind me, and I jump. I hadn’t heard his car pull up. “Time for that talk.”
I can’t look in his face, so I look at his throat, and then I can’t even do that, so I lean back against my car. He makes himself comfortable beside me.
“On paper, your numbers are average, that’s true. And no, your kill ratio isn’t great, either. You’re right about that. But … ” He pauses. Sighs. “I can’t believe no one’s told you this. When was the last time you checked in with Salt Lake?”
I shrug. “Two weeks ago they told me to send my dispersers and gauntlets back to recalibrate for the gunk. So I did.”
“Yeah, but when was the last time you had an evaluation?”
I think about that. Calculate. “I don’t know. Five years, maybe?”
“And you never questioned—Of course you didn’t.” He huffs, as if frustrated. “Deb, you—Every kill you make is like four for any other hunter in any other territory. You have sole stewardship of one of the most important regions in the world, and that’s for a reason.”
I remember what he said to Apollyon. “I don’t believe you.” I push myself away from the car, headed toward the swamp. “I want to split up tonight.” So he won’t have stupid me at his back.
“No.”
I stop. His tone brooks no disobedience, and I’m stuck. I don’t question. I don’t murmur. I do my job.
It’s the only thing I can do when I have no guidance, the Parents are silent, I don’t know who to trust—most of all my commander—and all my friends are suspicious of him anyway.
Now I know why.
He reaches out to me and I flinch away from him. “Deb … ”
“Don’t touch me.”
“Stand. Still.” So I do and suffer his hand on my forehead. The muscle in his jaw works, as he slides his palm to my cheek. He’s angry with me. I suppose I would be, too, if I had charge of a stupid peon on the verge of insubordination.
“Let’s go.”
The night proceeds like any other, but the animals are close to me and it irritates Ezekiel the closer they get.
“I’m not going to work like this, Sister Judge,” he grits out. “Get rid of them.”
I merely translate what he said and let them decide. They decide to ignore him. They don’t have to obey anyone but the Parents, thus, they are sticking with me by fiat.
Ezekiel’s gone to the dark side.
“Do you think,” I ask for no apparent reason, “that there’s more to the parable of the prodigal son than we talk about in Gospel Doctrine?”
He looks at me sharply. “What do you mean?”
“The guy runs away with his trust, right? And he goes and hangs out with all his party friends until his money runs out. He washes dishes under the table for a while and he’s eating out of a dumpster—Maybe he gets beat up or gets AIDS or whatever, and has nowhere to go, so he goes home just hoping for a job. He doesn’t even plan on telling the dad who he is, right?”
“Right.”
“But instead, the dad’s all, ‘My son! My son’s home!’ He was probably worried sick, probably figured he was dead or whatever. But the son’s really contrite, he knows he did wrong, and he’s ready to be a stand-up guy, especially with that reception. Dad gives him another trust in spite of the fact that he blew his first one—and the older brother stayed behind, the whole time, working at the family store and he doesn’t get anything extra.”
“Okay.”
“Well, if you think about it, Lucifer’s kind of the ultimate prodigal son.”
Ezekiel gets tense. I can tell because his disperser starts to hum. I don’t care. Let him kill me; I’ll learn how to fry beignets and find a way to avoid motherhood. It’s not 1971 anymore and women—especially ones in the church—have options.
“He’s doing his job, because without him, we’d just be walking around not having to work at our mortality, not learning anything. Somebody had to be Satan for the plan to work, right?”
“Deb … ”
He hasn’t ordered me to stop talking. Yet. “So it’d be a little unfair to punish him for doing his job. So, okay, maybe he’s being hateful about it, but what if—Just, what if—he repents? We’ve done our probation and he gets pulled back into the fold for helping to make it happen. I mean, he’s fulfilled his measure of creation, right? Win-win.”
“You’re treading thin ice, Deb,” he mutters. “Don’t go getting any sympathy for the devil. That’s how people mess up.”
“Have you ever messed up?”
“No.”
Lie.
Baby ’gator nudges my calf and I look down—not that I can see him—but I see bubbles off to my right that shouldn’t be there. I point.
“Don’t shoot.”
There is only one explanation I can think of for what I think appears before my eyes: I’ve become delusional.
I blink to try to get it to go away, flip up my night-vision goggles—but it’s still there.
A perfectly attired, impeccably clean incubus, even up to his chest in slime and oil, bows to Ezekiel. “General.”
“Uphir.”
Oh. My. Stars.
“Good evening, Sister Judge.”
I hate speaking with demons.
“Can you help her?” Ezekiel asks.
Wha—?
The physician of demons narrows his eyes at Ezekiel. “What’s she worth to you?” He cocks his head. “Your … soul?”
“Riiiight.”
I start to back away. I can’t run through water, even if it were clear.
“Ah, yes. Apollyon already has that.”
“He wishes.”
Uphir laughs. “You are a consummate actor, General.”
“And that’s why I’m here. Get to work, Uphir.”
“Sister Judge!” calls Uphir. “I would like to examine you, if I may.”
My throat tightens up. “Not on your life.”
He chuckles. “I have no life. None to give, none to lose. I work for the hope of salvation.”
I stop.
“That’s not possible,” I whisper over my shoulder.
“Oh, really? You’ve just given me reason to conclude you think it might be.”
I swallow. Hard. I almost choke on my own tongue.
He materializes in front of me, reaches out, and I gasp in pain when he passes his incorporeal hand through my body.
I pant for breath. I can barely stand and then I feel a log at my back, holding me up. I don’t know where it came from. It wasn’t there before.
Even in death, my friend comforts me.
“Mmm.”
Uphir’s hand sweeps through my head and pain of a type I have never known bursts through me. I hear a vague scream echoing through the swamp.
“It’s too advanced,” I hear, as if from far away. “And it’s contagious.”
“Contagious?!”
My body jolts when the log moves.
“Yes, General. Contagious. And specific to her enhancements. I don’t know what they’ve done or how they’ve done it.”
“Find out.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I will. As for this one … ” I am wracked with pain, but it seems important that I understand this conversation, so I try. “I cannot cure her, and this has to be stopped.”
I feel the swamp floor trembling and hear the cries of the birds, the roar of the bears. I don’t understand why they’re all kicking up such a ruckus, but the rumbling is comforting and my pain begins to subside.
“Why is this bayou about to explode?”
“Every animal in a one-hundred-mile radius can feel everything she’s feeling, as can the older trees. They’re sharing her pain, taking some of the burden from her. We know this. Why don’t you?”
Ezekiel snarls at him. “I hate this place.”
“Well, you would, you fastidious son of a bitch.”
“Talk to me again when you have to do your own laundry.”
I have to get out of here.
“Look at me, Deb,” says the General. He will brook no argument, but I will not obey. “Look at me!”
I look, through hazy vision, at the frontman for Lucifer, the mole, the spy.
How is it possible?
I look, and he is beautiful, his features shifting minutely, though enough for me to know that under his glamour, he is as beautiful as Apollyon and Uphir.
As beautiful as I am without my glamour.
Demon. Traitor.
“General!” Uphir snaps. “Stop it. You’re confusing her.”
“I want her to remember. I need her to remember.”
“She is delusional!” Uphir roars, his voice powerful and unearthly enough to make the swamp floor buckle. That I am, most certainly. It’s nice to be validated. “If we’re successful and she remembers, she will believe you to be a demon. Is that what you want?”
High General Ezekiel Alleyn, beautiful version, fades until the ugly one is firmly in place.
The physician is still speaking. “Do it now,” he says, “or you’ll never get her back.”
Why is Ezekiel’s disperser gaining light and power?
Why is he pointing it at me?
• • •
“WHY COULDN’T I get dressed in the temple?” I grumble at my mother while she fusses with my veil. “They have rooms there, you know.”
I try to brush her away from me, but I ache from my left shoulder down across my body to my right hip, and I wonder if I’m coming down with the flu.
Nice.
On my wedding day, even.
“Whassa mattah, sha?”
“I think I slept wrong,” I say. There really is no other explanation.
She squeezes my cheek and gushes in about four different flavors of French, three of which belong to her alone and have caused me much embarrassment in my life. “You are the most beautiful girl any mother could ask for.”
Beauty: my sole virtue, which, loosely translated, means useless.
I sigh and refuse to look in a mirror. I know what I’ll see: a bride who has graced the cover of Brides—among other publications—more than a few times.
It’s a nice way for a useless nineteen-year-old to make a lot of money, and part of my payment for the December 2011 issue was the dress I modeled, which I requested because it’s totally appropriate for the temple.
Unfortunately, that also means it’s appropriate for a Christmas wedding, all heavy satin and lace, complete with mandarin collar and long sleeves with a couple of layers of sequins and beads.
In August.
In Louisiana.
“Come. Your father is waiting in the car.”
“Just a minute. I forgot my medicine.” My birth control pill. She thinks it’s some diet drug passed around the modeling world.
I’m about to leave the bathroom when I spy some ibuprofen. Good idea. Maybe four. I really hurt.
I meet up with her at the elevator in the most expensive hotel in Baton Rouge without a word. Today is my wedding day. Aren’t I supposed to be giddy?
I’m not even quite sure I’m happy.
Off the elevator.
Through the lobby.
To the front doors.
My sinuses protest the blast of steam that punches me in the face as soon as I step outside. I can barely breathe.
“The car and temple have air conditioning, sha,” she says dryly when I tug at my collar yet again. A bellhop opens the door of the limousine that will take us to the temple. “How lucky for us, n’est-ce pas?” Her delight cannot be contained, but then she is not wearing a gown constructed to accommodate a bride who intends to have her pictures taken in the snow.
My father takes my hands and pulls me into the limousine while my mother gathers the modest train and petticoats then pushes me into the car. She and I plop down onto the bench seat at the same time, and I reach up to turn the air conditioner vents on me.
Forty-five minutes have been allotted for us to get to the temple, checked in, and settled in a timely manner. I’m quite sure my makeup is melting and that the air conditioner could spit out zero-degree air and I’ll never be cool again. There is an annoying trickle of sweat going down my back.
Twenty minutes later, I find myself thrown face-first onto the floor of the limousine when it slams to a halt. The driver is cursing. My father helps me up. My mother is gasping her outrage. “Your makeup!” she wails. “It’s ruined!”
Of course it is. There’s my face print in the carpet, right there, in foundation, powder, concealer, eye shadow, and lipstick.
That’s funny, but it hurts to laugh.
“Deborah! Stop laughing. Now is not the time.”
“It’s my wedding day, Mère. Is there a better time to laugh?”
“We have nothing to repair it with,” she hisses.
I shrug. “Told you I wanted to dress at the temple. That was for a reason. Well, several. But noooo.” I’m quite certain they have soap and water in the temple, and I’ll simply wash it all off. There are worse things than getting married without makeup.
Like … the dead deer in the middle of the road and a steaming radiator, which has cut off my supply of cool air.
“My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Judge,” the driver says apologetically as he opens the door on my father’s side. “This is an odd time of day for deer to be out, and I did not see it.” He pauses, looks me over dubiously, and says, “You will have to walk.”
I sigh.
“But it’s only another hundred yards to the driveway.”
In this dress.
In August.
In Louisiana.
I wonder if they’ll let me cool off in the baptismal font.
“Deb!”
I turn and see my fiancé jogging toward me. “Drake! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in there waiting for me.”
“I saw the accident,” he says smoothly, “and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Um … ” Goodness. I’m going to have sweat stains under my armpits. “How did you see it from the parking lot? There’s tons of trees blocking the view.” I pick up my skirt and petticoats and start walking, giving the steaming limousine, the driver, my parents, and the poor dead deer a wide berth. “Really, people. I need an ice bath.”
I approach Drake. I’m not superstitious, so I really don’t care if he sees me in my wedding dress before the ceremony. He looks at me with an expression I’ve never seen on his face and purrs, “Are you ready, my love?”
My love? His voice has dropped and it’s rich with suggestion I’ve only heard in the movies.
Suddenly, the prospect of the wedding night is looking a whole lot more enticing. Drake is possibly the most handsome man I’ve ever met, but he is entirely serious all the time. Even his kisses are serious. I might have said yes to his proposal more quickly had he spoken to me like that before today. “Are you feeling okay? Look at me. My makeup’s trashed and my hair’s probably a mess and my pits are soaked. Can’t you smell me?”
He smirks.
He never smirks. Drake doesn’t catch deadpan humor.
He also never looks at me with lust. Plenty of men look at me with lust, but not Drake. Drake does not lust.
“Aren’t you going to hold my hand?” I ask, exasperated at his very non-Drake-like behavior.
“No,” he says amiably as he begins to walk up the road, gesturing for me to walk with him. “You stink.”
I stare at him, walking a good two feet from me. A joke? An insult? Drake doesn’t do either. They are beneath him, and Drake is nothing if not dignified.
A cloud drifts overhead, but it doesn’t help anything. There is no breeze. There are no sounds of wildlife, engines, or people. I look over my shoulder. My parents are there arguing with the limousine driver, but I can’t hear them.
“Deb … ” he says in the new voice, the lazy, seductive one. It’s familiar, but not Drake-familiar.
“What have you done with my fiancé?” I tease, then blink at the vicious snarl I see for a split second.
My eyes are playing tricks on me.
It’s this heat, this dress.
Gracious, I must get to the temple. Only thirty more feet to the driveway.
“DEB!”
I look ahead to see a young white-clad temple worker sprinting across the parking lot toward us.
Interesting. I thought all temple workers were old.
“Right on time,” Drake mutters angrily.
“Drake!” I am aghast. Drake might not have a sense of humor, but he doesn’t get angry, either. It’s not dignified.
“Deb!” pants the temple worker. He takes my wrist in an iron grip—
“I don’t think so!” Drake hisses, trying to grab me, his hand passing clean through my free wrist! tabarnouche, that hurts! and I scream, start to cry from the shock and the intensity of the pain.
The worker ignores my wails to drag me the remaining distance until I’m on temple grounds. He’s huffing and puffing, and I’m holding my wrist, sobbing at how badly it hurts. It must be broken.
“Let me see,” he says, and I offer my hand to him, still sobbing but keeping one eye on Drake. “Don’t worry about him,” says the worker absently as he surrounds my wrist and palm with both of his hands—They’re huge.
I’ve never seen bigger hands on a man, and so totally out of proportion with the rest of his body.
I look back at Drake, and as the pain subsides, I grow more and more captivated by his beauty. It’s almost surreal how beautiful he’s become, looking at me the way I have always thought Drake should look at me. I stand transfixed, and when he smiles at me …
The man who’s tending me snaps his fingers in my face. “Deb. Look at me.”
I don’t want to. Drake has become a work of art, and my captor is … ugly.
“Come to me, Deb,” Drake whispers, his voice dark and rich like chocolate.
“Look. At. Me.”
I am compelled to obey my captor, but it takes some effort to pry my attention away.
“I have a very important calling to extend to you, Sister Judge,” the temple worker says urgently, as my desire to look at my fiancé is strong.
“I don’t believe you,” I say, stung, focusing fully on the man who still holds me. “Unless you need me to stand here and look pretty.”
“That’s right, Deb,” calls Drake. “He’s playing you, using your dreams against you. Don’t fall for it.”
“Deb, listen to me. You are crucial to the work, the plan. You must come hear me out. Please.”
“Crucial,” scoffs my fiancé. “The only crucial thing here is getting married and fulfilling your purpose.”
I look at Drake then, confused. “My purpose?”
He waves that away. “Marriage. Motherhood. What else would it be?”
Motherhood. “Uh … Are you saying that after a year of swearing you don’t want children, that now you do?”
His mouth tightens. “Don’t be stupid,” he snaps. “Of course I do. You do too, deep down inside. Every good Mormon girl does.”
The temple worker draws me close and whispers in my ear. “You’ve never wanted children. You don’t like people. You like animals. They adore you. You name your plants. They grow for you, out of season, out of zone, no matter what. An orange tree would grow in the arctic for you simply out of love and respect.”
I look at him, into his unremarkable brown eyes. How does he know these things about me?
“You had a baby alligator when you were younger, but your mother made you take him to the zoo when he got too big, and you still miss him. You have a family of raccoons at your back door every two months. You’d just as soon feed them, but your mother makes you lead them away. They’ll follow you anywhere you go, no matter how much they don’t want to.”
I gulp.
“We have a special calling for you, Deb,” he says desperately. “One just for you, one only you can fulfill, one you’re perfectly suited for. We need you, Deb, and is it not for your beauty.”
“Deb,” whispers Drake and it’s like he’s right in my ear. “He will take you to a swamp and leave you there, alone, ugly, unwanted.”
He’s so beautiful, his voice so seductive …
What were we arguing about?
“I will never leave you alone, ugly, unwanted.”
“He’s lying,” my captor says.
“Look at him,” Drake sneers. “He’s nothing. Unemployed. Nobody that young works in the temple in the middle of a weekday unless they don’t have a job. Loser.”
Drake has never lied to me; in fact, he’s brutally honest because he has no social skills. I don’t know who to trust.
My head hurts. My body aches.
“Why do I have to go with either of you?” I ask after a long moment.
“It’s your destiny,” Drake says. “You don’t have a choice.”
But my captor releases me. “You always have a choice, Deb,” he says quietly. “I just … would like you to come hear what I have to say. If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll understand. No hard feelings.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Drake hisses when I look at him. “You’re beautiful and I am a man of wealth and taste. I will give you anything and everything your heart desires, and you will never have to work or choose or suffer.”
He seems to have forgotten everything our relationship was based on, but the difference he offers sounds pretty good. He’s gorgeous and enthralling, and now I’m actually looking forward to my wedding night.
I feel like I’m spinning inside of a barrel ride, stuck to the wall, caught between centripetal force and gravity, the floor just dropped, and I’m slipping downward.
I glare at the temple worker. “Is he lying about you taking me to a swamp and leaving me there, ugly and alone?”
“No.”
That’s … intriguing.
“You will be doing very important work—”
“In a swamp?”
“Where you will have sole stewardship.”
A wave of déjà vu crashes over me so hard I’m dizzy. I have never had sole stewardship of anything, including my bank account.
He opens his mouth to say more, then stops. He loses focus for a second. Then he’s back. “You are useful.”
“Useful!” Drake hoots. “What kind of a selling point is that?”
“You have ten minutes,” I say to the ugly man. “And you better make it good.”
Nothing else to say but bravo!
Thank you!!!! *smooches*
Don’t fall for his act Mo! Ask SP about Tundra if you want the unvarnished truth.
Tundra will lead you on typing sweet comments to your posts, but the second you try to meet him in real life he will stand you up. Multiple times if you keep coming back to Minnesoda (again, ask SP if you don’t believe me).
I remember that about Tundra. I don’t think he’d stand me up, though.
*sobs but I thought I was different!*
I’ll second that “bravo”!
Thanks, Hayek! 😀
Fiancé is possessed by a demon, or a demon is impersonating fiancé?
Demons are real.
Demon
Look at congress for their gathering…
An incubus has been mentioned twice, and this fits that MO.
Though depending on how deeply we are to interpret that creature of having wealth and taste, it might not be a simple demon.
You have met the demon in the story.
Incubus, you say?
A question with no meaning behind it other than curiosity: why did you go with the Greek version of the name?
I found the word “Apollyon” to be hawt and sessy, and “Abaddon” not.
Good, because Abaddon is an armless failure.
And “Exterminans” too corjny?
Great stuff!!
I can’t wait until next week.
Um…that’s it. That’s the end of the story.
ARGH!
Really?
/sadpanda
(Or is it?) ring any bells?!? 😉
SHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I still have to work out the mythology
and decide whether to go for the love triangle or not.Part of the mythology: Lucifer (the Morning Star) is a job title, appointed by God, not the guy kicked out of heaven. That was Apollyon. Lucifer is his babysitter. Lucifer, however, is a trickster god. He never lies, but he is a master at sleight of hand and propaganda.
So there.
I like this. The Sandman Slim books hit on Lucifer getting out of the devil business.
Lucifer (the Morning Star) is a job title
sounds too much like Piers Anthony.
I would love to see the Incarnations of Immortality in a series, only set in a world without magic (I realize that might be a bit contradictory) and not written by Anthony.
Good idea, bad implementation.
Me or Anthony?
Anthony.
Which kind of goes without saying for him.
Now, while he was actually my formatting client way back in the day, I have never read him.
You’re not missing a lot, Mo. As robc mentions, good ideas, bad implementations.
I liked the Robot/fantasy series.
And some of his earlier stuff is really good.
But yeah, he’s kind of a hack.
Here is a quick synapsis of the Incarnations of Immortality series, which your idea seemed similar to, it shows you how he has good ideas (and yet the novels go downhill fast, to the point I didnt read the last 2).
There are 5-9 “Immortals”, but they are actually just people filling the job and they are only “immortal” while in the job, once they leave the gig, they start aging again (with exceptions).
They main 5 are Death, War, Time, Gaia, and the Fates (the latter is held by 3 women, The Maiden, The Mother, and The Crone, so that gets us to 7). Book 6 and 7 deal with the devil and god as the last 2 roles.
The concept is neat as is the way they get the job. Death gets it by killing the previous Death as he comes to collect them. Time gets it by accepting the job from the previous Time as his job comes to an end. Time lives backwards, so he has the job for the length of time that he had lived up to accepting it. He dies at the moment of his birth.
sit, Ubu, sit
Woof!
I <3 that.
Or is it?
I’m with Sean.
wah, wah, waaahhhhhh
/sad trombone
The end?
Fin.
Quite a few people didn’t get this story, which is okay. It was a satisfying ending for me.
I want a refund of my $0.00
Certainly, it will only cost a $25 processing fee.
It’s a scam!
*throws up hands and walks away*
Certainly, I’ll cancel your order. There’s a $30 cancellation fee.
To send it I will need your account and routing number, and you will have to answer some security questions to verify that I am dealing with the correct individual.
I’ll admit to not particularly getting it…
I think I mostly understand what’s going on, at least until the jump cut. There’s certainly a lot left ambiguous about what happened in the swamp.
I don’t really understand the reset. Obviously something happened that requires a restart, and there’s evidently hope that things will happen differently the second time.
That said, I enjoyed the story! I liked how, even though I thought the main protagonist was a bit unlikeable, I found myself rooting for her. That complexity made her feel more real.
I’ll explain it because I know about half the people who read this don’t get it and that’s okay. I made it vague on purpose.
* Ezekiel is sent to Atchafalaya because weird things are going on; he doesn’t know what. He has to find out and fix the situation.
* Demons can’t actively kill a living being. They can only sow the seeds of destruction; yet they ate the tree, which they are not supposed to do.
* Ezekiel put the tree out of her misery and collected samples.
* Hunters don’t get sick; yet, Deb is sick.
* Ezekiel is gathering information and gets it straight from Apollyon because Apollyon thinks Ezekiel’s on his side. Eh, but Ezekiel is an excellent actor.
* Ezekiel calls on Uphir, who is the physician of demons, who is trying to get out of hell; he picked the wrong side in the war in heaven.
* Uphir diagnoses her with the same disease the tree had.
* Ezekiel kills her (resets her life), effectively lancing the “wound,” if you will.
* Deb wakes up aching from shoulder to opposite hip (how Ezekiel lanced her).
* Apollyon tries to get her back before she goes onto hallowed ground.
* Ezekiel meets her to drag her onto hallowed ground to recruit her again.
Now I feel lame.
Don’t do that. The story was excellent.
I’d enjoy reading more of that world.
I do have the skeleton down.
In this idea, Lilith is the Angel of Death. Lucifer (trickster god) and she were a thing back before she got set up with Adam, and she’s mad at him for choosing his job over her.
And Ezekiel is not actually a member of the church. There are other hunters of other faiths. They hunt and live according to the traditions they were taught. Ezekiel doesn’t have a tradition and he was called by a weirdo demonologist monarch, but he knows everyone’s mythos and has access to everyone’s sacred spaces.
…which they are not supposed to be able to do.
My bad.
Hunters don’t get sick; yet, Deb is sick.
Ah, this is the part I missed. I took it at face value when she said that the demon vanquishing was why she was down and out for that day.
I didn’t get that the reset was an actual reset, I thought it was some sort of Trial by Dream.
And ofc, I couldn’t tell what the actual relationship was between the three male-presenting supernaturals.
Zeke went back in time?
No, he did not. He wakes up the same day she does (the next day), but he’s still the High General and has to recruit her again while she’s getting married, her memory having been wiped.
Generally speaking, I don’t do time travel anything. It hurts my brain.
I am the Queen of Unlikeable Heroines.
It’s a thing in Romancelandia that you can’t write an unlikeable heroine because…nobody likes her.
Well, except… I do. I wrote one particularly unlikeable heroine (straight-up smut, so I’m not linking it) and had people in the palm of my hand all the way through. She (and the story) was a trainwreck. They couldn’t look away.
Jersey Shore and Real Housewives nod in agreement.
Uffda! Sounds like you are using my move!
“I’m good. What, you’re still here?”
Woman (pointing at naked man): Who do you think you are gonna satisfy with that little thing?
Man: Me
Thanks for Introducing! Bravo! Bravo!
THANK YOU!!!
Yeah!
Great stuff. Thank you!
Excellent, thank you!
I really want more of this universe. and characters.
I’m working on it.
I don’t know if anyone caught it, but… Deb Judge. Deborah the Judge.
Ah, I admit I didn’t catch that, but I should have.
Sorry for the OT, but just a reminder of the Glibs Virtual Happy Hour tomorrow night, starting at 19:00 Eastern.
So is this via Zoom?
It is.
here you go,
https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2020/04/unpatched-zoom-bug-lets-attackers-steal-windows-credentials-with-no-warning/
So, don’t click Zoom links.
I don’t think any of us were posting links anyway.
On the tech side, don’t click on links if you don’t trust the source. Doesn’t matter if it’s in e-mail, chat, web sites, etc…
(See an excuse to not click on the links! 🙂 ).
Our schools just cancelled all zoom because of the security concern.
Let’s just invade the Discord channel and give Number 6 a jolly what-for.
Discord is chinese spyware.
Is nothing sacred?
Yes, yes it is. But nothing else is.
Yes, it is. Nothing else, though.
Great. Ugly page bug, gateway timeout error, no sign of reply, now here it is.
Can this week be over please?
Watching a civilization commit suicide is neither entertaining nor edifying. I’m over it.
That’s bleak.
Well, I’m feeling pretty bleak about all this. There are far far too many paths out of this that are the boot on the face forever, and very very few that leads anywhere else.
Dammit! Web site has the Font Virus again….
Smith Corona Virus?
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/310678074267879113/
I enjoy the universe, characters, lore, and your unique voice – well done!
Thank you, RAH!
I liked it, I am not sure I get it all, not 100% sure who is on what side or whatnot. But I still liked it, and have my own interpretation. But I am sure I missed a bunch of Mormon inside jokes.
Likely so, but I wrote it for a Mormon audience.
The biggest (to me) inside joke is “the celestial recycle bin.” Leon may disagree.
Probably…. But not so much that no one could get the jist of what you meant.
OK, I ain’t gonna lie. Our media relations department are pretty good at their jobs.
https://wnyt.com/albany-ny-education-stem/products-made-at-globalfoundries-in-malta-power-tech-used-to-fight-pandemic/5686209/
The time from when the chip falls off your line to when a supercomputer gets spun up and put to use it a bit longer than we’ve been locked down.
I didn’t say they were good people, Just good at their job.
And when they come off our line, they still need to be diced, bumped and packaged.
I give you people “diced, bumped and packaged” and nothing?
Huh – not the “Malta” I expected.
Apparently it was a logging town?
Oh, and the lake is totally not visible from on site.
It’s what they all do.
Imagine them showing all the military law enforcement applications where they are also used.
My favorite was Phillip Morris after the prohibition on direct advertising they embraced all kinds of support initiatives for abused women.
What’s amazing is how all of my coworkkers are way above average in competency, but the HR people who hired them all seem to be typical morons.
Which means maybe I don’t actually know what a competent HR person acts like…
I can’t imagine working in HR.
The better HR partners I’ve worked with simply get out of the way and do their best to remove red tape. The ones that actually try to “help” are generally the least effective.
They can be useful when documenting and dealing with problem employees, however. Pro-Tip – HR works for the employer and not the employee. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to explain that to people that have issues with their boss or employer and think they should go to HR.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to explain that to people that have issues with their boss or employer and think they should go to HR.
I’ve given up explaining that.
now if only some products using 12FDX would come out!
“Well, if you think about it, Lucifer’s kind of the ultimate prodigal son.”
I’m lovin it.
Thank you!!!
There was a Harlan Ellison story where Lucifer was the good entity, and was trying to help mankind against the raving lunatic Jehovah who had been given control of the realm of Earth.
“Deathbird” I think it was called.
Ooh! What was that story?
Aside: My dad hated the story of the prodigal son. He thought it was massively unfair to the faithful son. I was ambivalent about it until a friend said, “Yes, but the faithful son’s inheritance probably doubled in that time AND he had the benefit of not having to go through the adversity the prodigal son did.” Okay, I can accept that insofar as God knows what hell the faithful son missed.
My bugaboo parable is the 10 virgins with/out enough lamp oil.
How do they figure that?
And even if it is the case that they were quite successfull, I’m more irked by the treatment of the faithful son by the father.
The faithful son got everything he was promised.
It’s not about the money.
Why are you focused on the money? The faithful son was ignored and taken for granted.
How so?
The prodigal comes home, just wants a job, doesn’t want his father to recognize him. Papa does, goes apeshit with joy.
He starts the feast while the older son’s out working in the field and doesn’t doesn’t think to include him in the festivities. Dude comes in frm the field to see a rollicking party going on and the dad not giving him the right time of day.
All the dad had to do was run get the brother and say, your brothers home, lets party!
There would have been a lot less resentment.
There’s no sense in the text that he was neglected. The Father was rejoicing, and got the celebrations started right away because of that. It’s gonna be a big party. The son in the fields would be there. But when he does get there, he’s whiny, stupid, and disrespectful. Again, the point is to show that he’s as distant from his Father’ will while doing that as his brother was while whoring it up.
In both parables, the superiority of one party matters. The Father and his 2 sons aren’t equal. They should be seeking to honor and align with him, not expecting him to adjust to them. The bridegroom is the focus and guest of honor. The guests/celebrants should be ready for him, not dawdling so that he has to wait for them to catch up.
The Father and his 2 sons aren’t equal.
QFT. Modern egalitarianism doesn’t fit well with many of the parables.
Do you also have a problem with the parable of the workers? Some hired in the morning, some at noon, some in late afternoon, but they all got the same pay at the end of the day.
So, the bible endorses communism? Or at least union contracts.
Each person was paid what they contracted to pay, who are you to argue what others received, you got what you agreed to.
The wage was agreed to at the time of hire. The morning workers whined that they worked all day for the same amount, but it was what they agreed to.
should have noted:
/sarc
Raven, I just took it as /sarc anyway because that’s the left’s party line when the right talks about individual rights and “taxation is theft.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yspSI8JA_4
When I think about it, I am uneasy, but I haven’t thought about that one too much. It was never really taught a lot either at school (Baptist) or church.
Or, yeah, what leon and robc said. That’s why I haven’t thought about it too much.
I think a lot of faithful have that problem with the prodigal son because they put themselves in the place of the faithful son, and not realize that we all are the prodigal son.
Welcome to The Outer Darkness. May I take your coat?
Well, I haven’t denied the Holy Ghost after being shown Her form (“Her” is the gospel according to Mojo), and I haven’t murdered anyone in cold blood, so…I’m good, thanks.
I remember a take on the Prodigal Son that the father was once a Prodigal Son himself.
I think there’s a good parallel with the fall of Lucifer, where he’s the faithful son in the story.
The faithful son was externally obedient, and yes, all the remaining and probably increased inheritance would be his. The point is that though he was externally obedient, his heart was not aligned with his Father’s (not rejoicing when his Father was rejoicing), so he was still being internally disobedient.
The point of the 10 virgins is basically “Be ready at all times. You don’t know when Christ is returning, and just being close to being prepared, or hanging out with those who are isn’t enough.”
I understand that that is supposed to be the point of the parable and how it is read.
HOWEVER.
The parable (IIRC) made a point that the groom was expected at a certain time. He didn’t show up. The women did not have a reasonable expectation of having to wait all night long for a groom who was supposed to show up hours before.
Think of it not in terms of the virgins (as its a parable), but as foreshadowing. People have been saying “the end is near” literaly since the beginning. The early church thought Christ would return in their lifetime. He had given them and us a parable to let us know that might not be the case.
Like most people that don’t like the prodigal son parable, they identify as the good son when the reality is that they are the prodigal son.
Also, I think the point is that the feast and the welcome and all are the father’s to give. They’re not owed or deserved, which is where the older brother errs. There’s probably something there about the most valued things being humility and repentance, too.
Shouldn’t the faithful son also be joyous that his brother has returned? “Why wasn’t I invited, feted, given something is entirely selfish. Dude, you’re long lost brother returned. The fuckup – the drug addict – the whatever – and he is home, safe, and repentant. And you’re “hot take” is “What about me? Wheres mine?”
Yeah, I’m gonna say that the parable is a lot more dead on than people are comfortable with – and that’s not an indication of the failing of the parable. I’ll just offer that up as a possibility, too.
Yeah, I was thinking about that, too. The older brother ought to be happy the younger brother got his shit back together. If the “faithful” brother is really doing the right thing, then a.) his life is probably easier and better since he’s making good choices, and b.) he should be content with his own situation, which is probably much better overall. Instead, he’s bitter that he’s done basically just what was expected of him and that his father is happy to see his ostensibly weaker, more “at-risk” son finally seeing the light and trying to live a better life.
Totally, the prodigal son is the son you’d *try* to be, if you’re following the parable’s message, I think: humble, repentant, and gratefully accepting a second chance when offered. He recognizes that the father’s goodwill and grace is not earned like pay but given at the discretion and will of the father. The older son thinks he knows better than the father who deserves the father’s love, which is just believing himself to be superior to his father. If this is the analogy it’s clearly supposed to be, the older son is basically just sinning all over the place and likely going straight to Hell.
Yes! The parable is also an allegory of God’s love, regardless of how much we fuck up. Most people can’t relate to the idea of a loving God, but they COULD relate to the boundless, irrational, love of a parent to child. It was God’s way of putting us in his shoes, told while he was putting himself into ours.
Ozy’s Confession, re: this parable – a life lesson
I’ve raised four wonderful daughters; it is not possible to love more than I do for my four daughters. Some may be equal, but nothing could exceed it. I have endured an entire lifetime of “who is dad’s favorite?” and watched it play out with terrible, toxic consequences for my daughters’ relationships with one another. Jealousy/Envy is a poison unlike anything else I’ve ever seen.
The Father’s Love isn’t a finite quantity. Imagine being envious of your sister or brother for getting something nice from your father, a token of his Love and Affection. Why? Forget the psychiatry of it for a moment, think about the economics of it.
Because I should get exactly the same thing as my sisters? Sound like any, ahem, politico-economic theory of which you’re aware? (that rhymes with Larksism?)
I know all about this… because I did the exact same effing thing with my older sister when I was growing up. I had to get the exact same amount as her – for everything. Same size spoon and fork. My parents and sister and I joke about it now, decades later.
It’s envy/jealousy. (I want what she got.) It’s insecurity (She’s the favorite. They love her more.).
The alternative is and should be joy for a person we love.
How happy am I when something goes well for my daughters? It’s better than when good stuff happens in my own life. Come from a place of Love and the entire meaning of the parable changes. Come from a place of Ego and it doesn’t seem to make any “sense” at all.
See, my point is this:
The dude’s human. We ALL are human.
The parable is an exhortation to overcome the natural man. I think we can all agree on that.
However, we DO have to overcome the natural man and the older son is of course envious. He has worked for what seems for no reward whatsoever (albeit yes, he is the heir) and then gets ignored when perhaps he would have rejoiced also had he been included.
The parable is uncomfortable because we can imagine ourselves being both the older son and the younger son. We like to lie to ourselves and tell ourselves we’d never do what the younger son did because that would mean we are responsible for our actions (to ourselves) in the future. We also don’t want to be given short shrift for doing what we’re supposed to be doing.
It’s like this all the time in my family. My house revolves around XY. It has to. He sucks up all the air in the room and he demands our full attention. XX gets left in the dust. I TRY to make it up to her, but nothing is ever going to make up for the fact that he’s just that high maintenance and we have nothing left to give her.
I’m not faulting the dad for giving the prodigal a warm welcome. I’m faulting him for leaving the older son out in the field to get the party started.
It’s not fair. No, it’s not. And at this point in our society’s evolution, we have the luxury of the veneer of fairness and the expectation of it. It’s not that way in our house and we don’t even try to figure out how to be fair to XX other than spending exactly equal amounts on their Christmas and birthday gifts.
The only thing I can do for XX now is get her on her feet soon so she can get out of this house and away from her brother.
When you face the fact that the elder brother is angry because his younger sibling is not being damned you get to the real heart of what envy is. It is hatred, pure and simple.
I hope you will forgive this impertinence, but this is the ultimate copout. It’s an attempt to shift the burden of the envious person’s heart onto everyone else. It’s like an attempted “moral socialization” of the costs of the envy. The entire point of the trip here is to learn to Love, wholeheartedly, completely, in the way that the Father does. The parable offers us the quintessential example of what that Love looks like in the context of a family and hearkens us to it. “But if the Father had just done X instead, this would have obviated the whole thing” kinda misses the point – like Kirk with the Kobyashi Maru.
You can alter the parable in a million details to get it closer to what makes you comfortable, but it doesn’t change the underlying truth of it. I’ve bent over backwards for all of my daughters – everyone gets all of my love and all that I can at the moment they need it most. Parenting 4 kids – and now I’ve got two more at home, so 6 – has a certain triage aspect to it. Doesn’t change the fact that I still hear about how my help of one daughter in need is somehow a slight to other daughter who’s doing fine.
Does the Father need to ensure it’s okay with the older son before he does something good for the returning son? It’s playing legalistic games with the Almighty, Moj. It’s quibbling. Imagine that “being in the field” isn’t actually within earshot of the house, but acres and acres away (more likely the reality) – does that make you more comfortable with the parable?
And you have everything to give XX, Moj – Your unconditional love, and your example of that love for both of your kids.
There’s also “Job: A Comedy of Justice” by Heinlein for another take on Lucifer.
I like this.
I’m going to have to go ahead and disagree.
LOL Not YOU, you silly dragon.
How did the same word come to mean “dragon” and “duck?”
Two different languages. Dragon is Norse. Duck is English.
Didn’t you read or watch Jurassic Park? The dragons became ducks!!!
Liberal heads spin…
https://www.politico.com/states/california/story/2020/04/01/its-come-to-this-liberal-san-francisco-bay-area-bans-reusable-grocery-bags-1270319
Next they can ban shopping.
I’m guessing that means you have to pay for paper bags every time you shop now.
I don’t think liberal heads can spin. Cognitive dissonance is real.
Fuck Motherfucking DeWine. They’re extending the cower in place order until May 1st.
I’m getting ready to burn the retirement homes to the ground.
I’ve got a Guy Fawkes mask – just waiting for an opportunity.
If this lasts until November…
They just banned wedding receptions, but not weddings.
You can’t ban love, Neph.
What does that have to do with weddings?
But we’ll try as hard as we can to ban hate.
Get ready for stories about how they droned a wedding reception and killed the number 2 plaguebearer.
Move to Lakewood, NJ. What we talked about in last night’s links.
Laws made for and by gentiles don’t apply.
Lakewood police break up funeral with 60-70 people, issue 15 summonses for coronavirus lockdown violations
Whitmer wants emergency extended 70 days. She told the legislature to do it and not bother coming back into session while she has her extra powers.
I’M the Captain now!.
I’d like to see some impeachment proceedings of Executives over this stuff….
JFC
“OK, Gov. Here’s the deal. You’ll get your 70 days of emergency powers, and at the end, you resign and are disqualified from running for public office again. Still want the 70 days? No? Then it must not be much of an emergency after all.”
And I’m not joking that. She literally said don’t come back into session.
Might want to get that recall petition started.
May Day? DON’T YOU SEE WHAT IS HAPPENING!?!?! WAKE UP SHEEPLE!!!
Motherfucker just said the police don’t want to “harass their fellow citizens.”
Fuck Authority.
Wake Up Sheeple!
https://xkcd.com/610/
Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not get too hasty there. I’m hoping you mean nursing homes.
If so, I’ll drive ’cause I can’t run too fast.
It’s for your good! The Beatings shall continue until health improves!
Well fuck. The Lt. Governor just basically said the few who can work need to work in the service jobs for the many who can’t.
I’d like all those on the public payroll, who are now sitting at home with full pay and benefits, press-ganged to work in the essential service jobs.
Teachers first.
Just go straight down the AFSCME rolls.
It varies from state to state and county to county. In Montgomery County teachers are being required to switch to synchronous online classes. This is for K – 12. So yes, the expectation is that they will conduct a class via Zoom with a full class of 5 year olds whose parents may or may not be home to help, may themselves be teleworking, who may have other siblings in different classes in the home, and who may or may not even have internet access. Not all teachers are getting paid vacation through this.
Oh, and this is on about a week’s notice. They’re not the only Maryland county with that policy or something similar. I’m a little surprised the union didn’t straight up riot, especially considering how powerful they are here.
Here in NYC, teachers are home, with full pay and benefits but are required to hold daily video classes, take attendance, etc.. The Board of Ed. just canceled Spring Break, teachers and students are expected to keep up their distance learning schedule. They are even talking about canceling Summer Break.
Your army of trained bees will protect you.
Shit.
Well, misery loves company. MA and NH go out to May 4th too.
They are lifting anything until the peak of this thing is well in the rearview mirror.
I’m saying the hysterical panic regime continues well into May.
We are guaranteed a recession, if not worse, from this. Most of the People Who Matter are probably pushing hysterical panic simply because they are not very bright, are insulated from the economic fallout, and are fundamentally herd animals. But I think a non-zero subset is pushing this really hard in order to set off an economic catastrophe, because that is the only situation where there is any possibility of Trump losing the election.
They aren’t lifting anything
17 deaths here.
17.
And yet, the projections remain insane. This is fucked up. More and more people I know are being furloughed.
I was looking at the Brit projections (since withdrawn) used by the Dem advocacy group to stampede the herd of People Who Matter.
They are laughable on their face. They show this virus acting unlike any other. There is no bell curve; instead there is a steep upward slope that is close to vertical, a sharp peak, and then a steep downward slope.
And nobody said “WTF? This isn’t the way infectious diseases act. Get outta here with your garbage model.”
Fuck Slate, but here it is anyway
6.6 Million Americans Filed for Unemployment Last Week
So 9.9 MILLION new applications in two weeks (not including this week).
The economy is so fucked.
How abut some more rage?
The FBI Can’t Be Trusted With the Surveillance of Americans
Good thing the CongressCuntes renewed the PAtriot Act with zero changes to the FISA system.
But hey, we’ll be safe, right?
I’m leaning towards Depression instead of Recession at this point. They talked about the EO “pausing” rents/foreclosure/evictions. JFC, no comparison of the impact of the orders versus letting the damned virus run its course.
no comparison of the impact of the orders versus letting the damned virus run its course
If it saves one life . . . .
My grandmother isn’t expendable. . . .
Etc. ad nauseum.
Morons, ruled by idiots.
The fucking doctor just talked about what an honor it was to sign the order extending this May with the governor’s special pens.
First question (from Dayton): “How the fuck are people supposed to pay their bills?”
What I understood from listening to Reichsführer Husted yesterday, they can (and will) force landlords to suspend rent collection for the duration (90 days or some shit), but what that CANT do is force the lenders to comply. So what Im guessing is that once the dust settles there’s gonna be a lot of foreclosures, and a lot of bank-owned property. Just like 2008. And a lot more “too big to fail” bailouts.
Cuomo has already cut a deal to stop mortgage payments. I don’t know the details but Sandy wants something for renters too.
Yep. And the people pushing this are convinced, even if they reach a “peak”, they can’t let up on the restrictions because it will start growing again. No evidence or anything to the contrary will sway them. Insert CS Lewis quote here.
Really need serology testing now, even more than regular diagnostic testing, to determine exactly what the current/past extent is. And worst case scenario, can start giving get out jail free cards to those with positive serological tests/negative active tests to side step these house arrest orders.
*sets up “free-lance” get-out-of-jail-free card production center*
Speaking of quarantine theater.
We now have to get the forehead-scan temperature thing on our way into the building for work. You get a colored sticker that goes on your ID badge when you pass, with a different color every day. You are supposed to come in through one of four entrances where they do the temp checks.
The colored stickers are the ones we use for color-coding patient charts for various reasons. They are literally all over the hospital. So, staff are coming in the other 70-odd entrances to this beast of a hospital, checking what the color of the day is, and slapping the right color sticker on their badge. The alternative on shift change is to wait in a line that should be hundreds of people long (day shift, there are probably 800 people in the building, give or take). The lines are never close to being long enough to account for even a minority of our staff.
How many colors do you use? Just put all 4,8,10,etc on your badge at one time and see what they do.
One sticker at a time. If you have yesterday’s still on, they take it off.
Yes, Unreconstructed, our staff is just as stupid as management. Just in different ways. Trust me on this.
So, your staff isn’t as stupid as the management (present company excluded)?
I find this strangely amusing.
Well, since the thermometers are uncalibrated (the door I come through reads me anywhere from a degree to 2 1/2 degrees cooler than I actually am), I don’t mind people ignoring this particular bit of theater.
Are those things even all that accurate? Somewhere (maybe here) I saw someone assert that they weren’t all that good.
That’s the procedure in most Singapore businesses and has been for several months.
I doubt they have literally tens of thousands of the stickers laying around their offices, though.
Singaporeans seem to be more rule observing, so perhaps not the same issue. But more interesting is the wholesale import of foreign practices without allowances for cultural differences.
On the other hand, we had some dipshit employee in another office come to work so visibly sick that their manager had to send them home. Then sent the entire office home and arrange for some service to come clean the place.
And the social distancing is strictly adhered to in the lines, too.
The real test was when the chloroquine treatment got in the news. Who wouldn’t be cautiously optimistic about the available drugs that showed great promise in several international studies? The US propaganda machine. That’s who. They do not want this pandemic and corresponding depression to end quickly.
Its been amazing, to me, how people who actually agree with a lot of what Trump has said, are nonetheless so eaten up with hatred that, when he says it, it gets transformed in their mind into something wrong.
Then they are evil. How can they not see what this is doing, even to people in their fucking tribe?
I’m calling a lot of people disaster-LARPers, and I think some set of them are subconsciously guilty of this, too. They’re very caught up in this story, and have never really suffered in their lives (and aren’t now, mostly), but don’t want it to just end on them with relatively little pathos.
Nice work Mo!
Thanks!!! 😀
OT, but relevant to the formatting bit: AFAICT (based on Chrome’s Network tool), there’s no CSS being loaded by the site at all.
Also, there’s a JS error (not sure if it’s related) that’s blowing up due to the cpProductsWidget (Cafe Press) being null.
OK, I just missed them, never mind.
Mormon music
There is an ice cream truck on my street right now. I find this funny.
Pedos are mission-essential.
Well, as a pessimist and anti-statist, this will get drug out all summer if not till November. When the ‘peak’ doesnt come in 2 weeks, we’ll have to wait 2 more weeks, and so on.
The people that have made themselves petty despots are just getting used to how much power they can grant themselves with a simple Emergency Order. They’re not known for giving it up.
So. Much. Rage. Right. Now.
The fact the populace is cheering this on doesn’t help. When this is over, are more people going to be telling stories about how they got around the orders, or bragging about turning someone in for violating ze orders?
The fact the populace is cheering this on doesn’t help
They made a mistake, they believed the politicians
Michigan is already moving the goal posts from April 10th peak to maybe sometime in May.
Pssh Nevada is already May 1st…so neener neener…wait..
Oh. I’m not talking about the shit in place order. That’s going to extend into June. They keep pushing back when we’ll see peak deaths.
Wait until this drags into August due to concerns over “re-emergence”.
THere is no deadline in NY. I knew this was going to last for months.
You’ll know when it ends, because Cuomo promised to get into his car and drive to states to help others.
I have created a grocery budget for the first time ever, based on the last 3 months’ expenditures and what we really bought. ?
Anyway, I wanted to buy mucho stuffo today but can’t because my freezers are full, so I must buy a freezer. Hello Craigslist and Facebook marketplace.
Better hurry that purchase…word is Vermont is shutting down “non-essential” goods now which means other governors need to pick up the pace!
Late April Fools Day post.
Malaria Drug Helps Virus Patients Improve, in Small Study
A group of moderately ill people were given hydroxychloroquine, which appeared to ease their symptoms quickly, but more research is needed.
The malaria drug hydroxychloroquine helped to speed the recovery of a small number of patients who were mildly ill from the coronavirus, doctors in China reported this week.
Good catch! Everybody knows there’s no CCP Virus in China. Just ask the CCP.
Why is that the NYT suddenly gives it some credence when it’s the ChiComs making the claim?
Nevermind….
Can’t wait for the next one!
Well that’s the end of the story. (The short story. I’m working on an extended universe.)
Written by a freind of mine . . .
Discuss . . .
Just like in 2008, this is a bailout of the financial system, not the consumer.
And just like in 2008, the stupid assholes on Wall Street have placed bets on top of bets on top of derivative vehicles, like those backed by a tranche of mortgages (sounding familiar)? The margin calls on those bets are forcing a run for dollars that can’t be found, so the Fed is willing them into existence and buying up securities.
We’re going to end up like Japan with the Fed owning most of the stock market.
We’re going to end up like Japan with the Fed owning most of the stock market.
A lot of people don’t realize that. It used to be that the Fed could only buy Treasury debt. Now they can buy pretty much any kind of financial asset. Oh and they can just print as much money as they want.
And connected companies like BlackRock are going to make out like bandits by acting as middlemen for these illegal actions.
Functionally this was baked in. The Fed has been holding down interest rates to the point that the banks are driven to find riskier and riskier investments in order to generate yield. That creates buyers for crap, and therefore suppliers seek to fulfill that demand for crap (WeWork, etc…)
Also, the incentives for major companies has been to manage to the stock price and not to the long term health of the company. So we get airlines and others who spend all of their available cash on stock buybacks (and even borrow money to do so). They can’t survive a downturn as a result.
Our economy has been out on the edge of reality for a while. COVID just kicked us off the cliff.
Unlike 2008, I don’t think we have a ginormous bubble in credit default swaps.
Unfortunately, the credit default could be coming given the number of people who won’t pay rent/mortgages. The no evictions/foreclosure nonsense is setting the stage.
On the plus side, if the economy really does collapse that much, Mexico might have to build a wall and pay for it themselves to keep all the economic migrants out.
Campaign promise kept!
I came late to the “Free to Choose” series but, damn, did I pick a great time to start watching it. It’s funny how many of the debates dude is having in the early 80s are unchanged, particularly with regard to the statist/socialist talking points. I mean, show someone the transcript and hide the names and you’d think it was made last year.
Big business chains – restaurants & hotels are poised to hoover it all up.
Direct Cash Injection to consumers, plus reduced production output due to mandatory no working is a recipe for Inflation.
Not saying that paying biz is a good idea, but just giving money to people that they are supposed to spend when there is nothing to spend on will be a bad time.
I guess once you start fucking the economy, you can’t just . . . stop?
Japan’s central bank hasn’t pulled out for thirty years. It’s getting a little raw.
Fiat pussy is the best kind of pussy.
“Instead of giving corporations and small businesses money to avoid layoffs, might it be better to let those businesses do what they need to do to stay alive”
Yeah, like lifting house arrest and making the response a bit more… rational? I read somewhere (can’t find the link) that if the quarantine really drags on until the end of April, 1 in 3 restaurants will have closed permanently.
I’m *reeeeeeeally* struggling to see how the cure is preferable to the disease at this point.
I read somewhere (can’t find the link) that if the quarantine really drags on until the end of April, 1 in 3 restaurants will have closed permanently.
Plausible. And if it drags on (and it likely will) through May?
Here’s the thing: politicians are cowards. They have been stampeded into doing something wholly unjustifiable, and they cannot and will not admit their mistake. Being cowards, they will not lift these orders until weeks after the peak has passed, and the death tolls are getting really low. So, probably not until the end of May.
The pressure to do so earlier will come as the economic toll climbs. But they have an answer for that: “The Almight Federal Government will save you all. I am here to keep you absolutely safe, to shield you from all risks to your health. No matter what the cost.*”
*To other people.
You mean something like this?
https://www.restaurantdive.com/news/3-of-restaurants-have-already-closed-permanently-nra-survey-finds/575022/
The government doesn’t have 6 trillion dollars. It will create the money out of thin air. Thus making every existing dollar worth much, much less. Thus making everyone much poorer, but spreading the pain around in ways that can’t easily be tracked.
If they devalue the dollar enough, they might actually be able to pay off some of the debt!
Now that’s looking on the bright side!
Good one, Q. I needed a laugh.
^^This^^
Iowa’s Governor Kim Reynolds holding strong with no stay at home order.
We had some contractors finishing work at our house today – they were nervous that things would shut down “guess I’m going to have to stop paying bills.”
Good for her. I heard somewhere 38 states have stay at home orders. Be interesting to see who the non pants shitters are. That list is shorter than the other.
I think were down to only half dozen or so remaining. Certainly not for lack of trying on the part of the media – I just watched the press conference and most of the questions were about “why aren’t you taking more drastic measures” and “obviously, we know that even young people can get this and end up on ventilators!”
I saw a blurb on facebook so I can verify its veracity:
Reynolds stated:
Iowa produces 1/11th of the food in the country
Iowa has 30 of the top 100 food producers in the country
Iowa has a huge manufacturing base putting out essential goods
If Iowa stops working, this will fuck the country over.
That, and our population density is so low, there is no good justification for shutting the whole state down.
Fun Story – I too, would like to see more of this universe.
The religion of peace.
https://www.claas.org.uk/2020/02/28/pakistani-christian-man-tortured-to-death-for-washing-himself-at-tube-well-owned-by-muslims/
BUT MUH KROOSADEZ
Barbarians gonna barbarity. Its who they are. Its what they do.
Mojeaux, this was FANTASTIC!!!!
Thank you!!!