All of you probably know I’ve written some fiction. A few years back I was invited to submit a piece for a sci-fi anthology, the one requirement being that the short story had to have an ending that was a “twist.” I thought on it some and came up with a short story I titled Ten Minutes. Here’s part one of three; sorry, no images for this one. Enjoy.
***
Norman Taggert was my best friend.
That’s why I’m leaving this record. After witnessing the events of the last hour, someone has to leave some kind of written record behind… well, just in case.
Norman fancies – fancied – himself an inventor. In all honesty, he had some successes in inventing various gadgets. You’ve probably heard of the Taggert Multipurpose Water Dehydrolizer, and who hasn’t used a Dendritic Atmospheric Distortion Analyzer to predict that perfect golf swing? Even the common Ultrasonic Cockroach Disintegration Hotel – that was Norman’s baby, too.
You may have even seen Norman’s picture in Popular Gadgetry when they ran that feature on him – you’ll remember him as that funny-looking guy with the trademark round glasses, gap-toothed grin, obnoxious checked jacket and bow tie. Norman was proud of being an inventor, and wanted to look the part.
Scarcely a week went by without Norman cooking up some new gizmo or another; a few of them even worked. He had a modest string of patents hung on his workshop wall. His few “real” inventions returned enough in license fees to enable Norman to tinker full-time.
Until today, anyway.
I’m writing this on a Friday afternoon. Tomorrow is Saturday, but after the last hour, I’m not sure what kind of Saturday to expect.
Most guys look forward to Fridays. For me, it’s just a day that brings the prospect of spending two more days at home with my wife instead of at the hardware store where I’ve worked for nineteen years. To put this bluntly, I’d rather be at the store. A man learns to face the inevitable, though, and so I left work today as always and drove home, hoping to slip away by myself for a few hours of peace and quiet at some point during the weekend. See, all I had in mind an hour ago was fishing. Now I’m not even certain I’ll be here an hour from now. I’m afraid anything could happen.
Let me tell you why.
I was in my basement workshop when Norman showed up at my house. He was in an obvious and, for Norman, perfectly characteristic state of excitement.
Norman was always excited about something, usually whatever gizmo he had more recently “invented,” so I wasn’t too surprised when my wife Belinda ushered an eager Norman downstairs to my shop, where I was winding new line onto a fishing reel.
“George!” Norman leaped into the little cement-floored workshop.
Behind him, Belinda glowered at us both. I looked at her with a weak grin.
It was an intimidating sight. Twelve years ago, when we married, Belinda was tall, thin, a trifle horse-faced, and a trifle hard. Now, she’s still tall, even thinner, even more horse-faced, and much more forbidding. She glared at me from behind her stainless-steel rimmed glasses, and tapped one foot in its solid brown leather shoe.
“No smoking down here,” she snapped, “or there’s gonna be trouble.”
“I know, dear,” I answered her. I long ago stopped trying to argue with Belinda; there’s no way to win. “We won’t smoke.” Belinda glared at me for a moment, then turned away and clomped up the stairs, her heavy shoes thumping each riser like a hammer.
I walked over to the little refrigerator I keep in the shop – a necessity since I also sleep there quite regularly – and pulled out two cold beers. I handed Norman one. “What is it, Norman?” I asked him. “What have you cooked up now?”
Norman looked back to the door at the top of the stairs. Belinda shot him a glare. She didn’t like Norman, or anybody else much for that matter. She slammed the door shut.
Norman grinned and pulled a small black box out of his pocket, handed it to me. “I just finished this,” he said. “I rushed right over to show it to you. Almost had an accident on the way over, too – guy blew through a stop sign, he almost hit me!”
“Traffic is getting bad around here,” I agreed.
“Crazy,” Norman said. “This guy, he drove like he was blind drunk. Anyway. Have a look at that. What do you think?”
I looked over Norman’s new gizmo. It was just a small black plastic box, about six inches by three by maybe an inch deep, with a small dial on the top, a toggle switch, and a red button. Norman had scribed some markings around the dial – from zero to ten minutes, marked off in ten-second increments. The toggle switch was marked “ahead” and “back.” On the top of the box a tiny blue light glowed softly.
The red button was just a red button.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll bite. What is it?”
Norman popped open his beer and took a long pull. “Thirsty,” he said, “I’ve been working on that all day.”
“So what is it?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Look at the markings.”
“You’ve got it marked in minutes and seconds… Don’t tell me you’ve… Norman, that’s not possible.”
“That’s what everybody thinks, but everybody was wrong,” Norman grinned. “It is what it looks like. It’s a time machine.”
I handed him the box back. “Very funny. What is it really?”
“I’m completely serious. It’s a time machine. There’s a problem, though – it will send you forward or backward in time, but only a maximum of ten minutes. Well, actually ten minutes and sixteen point three-five seconds; that’s the way the programming and power constraints worked out. You can’t manipulate the space-time continuum all that much with four double-A batteries, you know, even with a raritanium-based agrodomatic rectifier.”
“Even so, ten minutes? It will send you forward or backward in time ten minutes?” I looked at the dial markings again. “That’s how you’ve got it marked – what good is that?”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to take back a comment? Make a last-minute bet on a football game? How about playing poker? Think of the possibilities!”
I thought about the last twelve years with Belinda, of all the comments I wished I hadn’t made – and of all the shouting matches that resulted from my not saying anything at all. “Better if I could go back twelve years. Anyway, I suppose it could be handy. Have you tried it yet?”
“No,” Norman said. “I need a witness. That’s why I came to you, buddy – I wanted you to be the first to see it.”
“All right,” I conceded, “let’s say that it works. What do you intend to do with it?”
“The possibilities are endless,” Norman said, “but I did have one thing in mind. Don’t you have some vacation time coming to you?”
“Sure,” I said. “About three weeks.” Not much point in taking time off work when I’d spend it at Belinda’s beck and call.
“I’ve got a lot of work that I’ve been putting off for lack of funding,” Norman said. “Three of my patents expire this year. So, when I made this little gizmo, I got to thinking.” He grinned. “How’s about you and me taking a little trip to Las Vegas in a couple weeks, make a few hundred thousand at the crap tables?”
“I don’t like the idea. Could get rough if they get any idea we’re cheating.”
“Not if we’re careful – take a few hundred here, a few hundred there, spread it out over different tables and casinos. Anyway, think about it. This little gadget,” he held up the black box and shook it, “could change our lives. Hell – it could change everything.”
An image of Belinda’s horse face swam in front of me for a moment. I shook off the thought before it could form. “How does it work?”
Norman grinned. “I stumbled on the principle while I was trying to recalibrate the Ipswich field strength on my multi-phase kababulator – you remember that, I invented it to produce wave-phase variations in alpha-theta band neutrino emissions from my Jones-Utz particle stability desensitizer?”
“Uh, if you say so.”
“Anyway, I noticed that my particle tibufibulatrices monitor was picking up chronographic irregularities from the desensitizer – so I removed the Kohoy-Bopp circuits from my desensitizer, rewired it to be a destabilizer instead of a desensitizer – merely a matter of reversing the phase polarity of the krepulator guide – and cobbled up a field projector that should move the mass of a medium-sized human body. It’s set for my body specifications, to be specific, although anyone of about my mass could probably use it safely.”
I sat down at the workbench and opened my beer. I reached for the pack of cigarettes that lay on the bench, remembered Belinda’s scowling face, and thought better of it. “All right,” I said. “Let’s see if it works. How do you plan to test it?”
“I’m going to set it to send me forward in time, one minute. All you have to do is to sit here for a minute and wait for me to show up.”
“Don’t you think you should try it on something inanimate first? A hammer or something?”
“Might not work,” Norman said. “I’ve calibrated it for someone or something of about my mass. The field follows discrete surfaces using a topopgraphic apoplexomatic area-mapping yetzolagrophic dodulizer, so it will send whoever’s holding it and nothing else around them. If you tried it on a smaller mass, the field strength won’t be right – on something the mass of a hammer, it might either send it back to the late Jurassic or completely destroy everything within about ten light-years. Better to stay with the designed mass. So, I have to touch it to push the button; the only way to use is it to use it on myself. Don’t worry, though – I’m confident that my calculations are right. It’ll work.”
I took a long drink of beer. “All right. Go ahead.”
Norman flipped the toggle to “Ahead,” turned the dial to one minute, and handed me the machine to check the settings. “One minute, ahead,” I confirmed. Norman took the device back and, grinning like a big ape, poised his finger over the red button. “See you in one minute,” he said, and pressed down.
The machine fizzled and buzzed for a moment, then stopped. Nothing else happened.
“Well,” I said.
Norman looked disappointed. “I don’t get it,” he said. “I was sure it would work.”
“Maybe your batteries are dead.”
“They’re brand new.”
He walked over to the workbench and scrutinized the machine in the light form the window. He pushed the red button again. Nothing.
“Dammit,” Norman muttered. He tugged his tie loose. “I’ll have to take the thing apart – must be a bad connection. The jodhpur-gigaferkastatic circuit may have gone out; it was pretty much jerry-rigged. I kind of cobbled it together with solder and electrician’s tape.”
“Have another beer,” I offered.
“In a minute. Have to go to the john.” Still looking disappointed, he walked out of the workshop and disappeared into the little half-bath he and I had built in my basement the year before. I went back to winding line on my fishing reel.
A few seconds later, I was startled by a voice behind me. Norman’s voice. “See?” he said, real joy in his voice. “It works!”
I turned to see Norman standing there, holding his time machine. “What do you mean? You just said it…”
I stopped dead. I’d seen Norman loosen his tie – now it was tightly knotted. I looked past him – the time machine was still lying on the workbench where Norman had left it.
Then there was a faint shimmer in the air by the window, and another Norman appeared out of thin air, holding another time machine. “See,” he said, “I knew it would work!”
“What the hell!?” the first Norman burst out. The second Norman turned to see the first; his jaw dropped.
Then the original Norman, tie loose in his collar, walked out of the bathroom. The other Normans turned to face him. The original Norman – my friend, the inventor Norman – took one look at them and fainted.
It took a while to get Norman to come around.
Once the three of us – the other two Normans and I – managed to get the original Norman sitting upright and sipping feebly at his beer, I went to my workbench and found a big black permanent marker. “OK,” I told the Normans, “First things first.” I pointed at the original Norman. “You’re Norman-Prime. You,” I indicated the first of the duplicate Normans, “are Norman-One.” I marked a large ‘1’ on his forehead with the marker. “You’re Norman-Two,” I said to the second, and marked him with a ‘2.’
“So, Normans,” I asked them, “What happened, and what do we do now?”
All three Normans started talking at once.
“I built the machine to send a body physically through time.”
“But it seems to only send an image of the body…”
“…probably due to a flux in the floccanihistation index…”
“…this could have been caused by the reversal of the sustephapolitrix vertices…”
“…causing an irretrievable contrafibularity of quantum data transfer…”
“…in the Gompers-Keldfield continuum…”
“…causing a duplication of quantum states…”
“…sending an image of the body…”
“…through time, and reconstituting a duplicate at the destination…”
“…not the original. So you end up with a…
“…non-paradoxial…”
“…duplication of identities.”
“That shouldn’t be possible.”
“Well, it’s obviously possible,” I belabored the obvious, “but none of you have answered my question. What do we do now?”
“How long has it been since I first pushed the button?” Norman-Prime asked.
“About three minutes,” I said.
Norman-Prime stood up. “Well, then,” he grinned weakly, “All I have to do is go five minutes into the past, and stop myself pushing the button. That should put it all right.”
“What will happen to us?” Norman-One asked.
“You’re me,” Norman-Prime said, “nothing can happen to you.”
I hope that car nearly hitting Norman was less than ten minutes ago…
Chekov’s gun or red herring? Stick around to find out!
That’s what I’m here for!
I thought it was because we glued you to your seat.
Speaking of seat glue, I keep meaning to ask – I’m finished with Prince Errant and I find myself wanting more. Is your stuff on Kindle?
It is
“Beyond the Edge of the Map” is in the same universe as Prince Errant, Banker of Stirnberg, and Rite of Passage (Posted to Glibs) the other books are in the same universe as Ink and Infaturation (Posted to Glibs)
Danke!
(Hoping against hope that I’m addressing the right writer…)
Chekov’s Herring.
Or a red gun?
Wibbley wobbley, timey wimey.
Looking forward to the rest.
This is likely better than the entirety of the series reboot from which it springs.
They really put a lot of effort into that.
I don’t feel like this is gonna end well for Norman.
Nice start, Animal!
I always feel that time travelers generally deserve what they get. Sorry, Warty Hugeman…
I’m reading a book called Gridlinked that SF recommended. It begins with a fantastic time-traveling related mishap.
Right in your wheelhouse!
*sigh*
Books are worse than guns, when it comes to impulse buying.
Most books are cheaper than guns though.
Yeah, you don’t see many Little Free Arms Libraries.
And when you do, they’re all stocked with Raven Arms .25ACPs
*shrug*
Better than nothing.
Just finished Gridlinked (picked it up due to SF’s recommendation).
Neal Asher had been floating around as an author I meant to read, but I had misremembered some other book that was OK but meh as being Gridlinked.
Which I enjoyed the hell out of, and immediately got the rest of the Agent Cormac series.
Yeah, I dig it so far.
Seconded. I read Gridlinked last week and I have all of the Agent series books in the queue. I’m at the final 10% of Line of Polity right now.
https://www.oann.com/israeli-government-announces-new-3-week-lockdown-starts-ahead-of-the-jewish-new-year/
JFC
“JFC”
Not there, friend.
I like Belinda, no nonsense, dislikes people, other than her physical characteristics, what’s not to like? Put a few pounds on her and she could be my first wife. Oh, now I remember why she’s my ex. Too much Belindaesque.
Well look at it from her side, married to a guy who is willing to be a guinea pig in a crazy science experiment just to get out of a marriage he’s too cowardly to end himself.
This drives me nuts. It’s one thing to complain about a spouse’s little faults, we’re all human and have them, but avoiding your spouse at all cost is a pretty good sign it’s time to hit the dusty trail. Sack up or ovary up and get the hell out of there and stop whining.
Meh. The idea that one should be happy in their marriage (or that their marriage should be one’s primary social relationship) is kind of a recent attitude.
Fine, but don’t whine about it at the poker table after you get a few beers in you.
That’s not whining, it’s commiserating.
Till death . . . .
I’m not sure I’m methodical enough to get away with murder.
There were times when I lived in NJ…I didn’t know anyone and was worried I’d run into one those undercover guys. I quickly got those ideas out of my head but they kept coming back..
All’s well that ends well
I love it Animal, More please! one pedant, isn’t it Beckon call?
I’ve seen both used, but “beck and call” more often.
gotcha, almost potato potahto, I still can’t wait for the next part, thanks Animal
For all intensive porpoises it’s the same thing.
Like the settlement in your hot water heater?
That’s going to make my plumber look at my like I’m an ATM Machine, isn’t it?
You all are the new worsts.
Lol. Finally
Are the West Coast wildfires an escalation in antifa’s civil war?
If so we should really be prosecuting arsonists and imposing the maximum sentence on them. Or not – Rollin Tristan Fodor, 18, pleaded guilty to felony 1st-degree arson. He set the Portland Police north precinct on fire in June at a violent BLM-antifa protest. Fodor was sentenced to only 45 days in jail. His felony riot charge was dropped.
Even if the fires are arson, I’m going to wait for some evidence that the arsonists are from Antifa. There certainly are sickos who set fires, and Antifa seems to have a high number of sickos, but I don’t want to jump to confusion.
Correct, more evidence is needed but it wouldn’t surprise me if it turns out to be the case.
Me neither. I could see one of them trying to get revenge on those redneck Trump voters living in the sticks. I saw plenty of Trump signs when I was in that area a couple months ago. But I still want to see some proof.
Not sure if intentional, if so… go join the other worsts above!
It’s a phrase my high school math teacher used.
This has a The Man Who Folded Himself kind of vibe. I like it. But then I’m a fan of the sub-genre, if there is such a thing.
I was thinking the Irv Hank effect
my thoughts too
“Time travel makes my head hurt.”
/every Star Trek captain
The terrible movie looper literally states that. It’s time travel so don’t think about it
Hm, I vaguely remember enjoying that but haven’t been moved to watch it again.
JGL does a cartoony impression of Bruce Willis for 90 minutes and other dumb stuff happens. The end.
^^
LOL
Did you use to write for Star Trek Next Gen? Because that is what it reads like.
I can put up with one made up scientific term for the sake of the story, but a whole string turns me off. Beside that, I like where the story is going.
Yeah, it kind of read as self-parody. Still enjoying the story though.
If they can just tune the tachyonic generator frequency to recombine the quantum resonances of the Norman entities, everything will be back to normal for the next episode.
To me it feels like something I would have read in Omni or one of the other sci-fi magazines back in the day.
I would agree that if the made up sci-fi words are supposed to be parody it’s ok. I was distracted by them however, because they were so prevalent.
It is meant to be parody. One of the few pieces of humorous fiction I’ve written.
I liked the story by the way. The words work for parody well.
It would be more effective if the explanations went like this:
“Well, the defrabulization pariator subhexs when …”
“Wait, I have no fucking idea what any of that means. Start over, with words a layman like me I can understand.”
Long pause … “You push the button, and magic happens.”
I skipped a bit here and there when he got into explanations of phenomena…
So the twist is that Animal is Wesley Crusher?
Keep priming that pump.
“A loss for Biden, after having been the clear favorite all summer, would provoke mass disillusion with electoral politics as a means of change—at a time when disillusion is already dangerously high,” he writes.”Because Biden’s poll numbers this year have mostly been higher than Clinton’s were in 2016, a Trump victory will be even harder for the left to absorb,” he continued later. “Until Democrats (and commentators like myself) started panicking recently, overconfidence had set in. The polls offered good reason to think that a Trump victory was drifting out of reach—and they still show the former vice president with a significant, if diminished, advantage. No matter how the polls shift, a Trump win means a squandered lead and shattered expectations.”Though Trump’s brash demeanor has certainly contributed to this unrest, Hamid argues that another loss in the Electoral College while winning the popular vote will be too much for the Democrats’ to handle, since it would be the third time within 20 years that such has happened. Beyond that, argues Hamid, “liberals have convinced themselves that Republicans are, in one way or another, cheating.”
What’s he saying? Either we win, or we start breaking (more) stuff?
Just vote for Biden and there will be an end to the horror
Stealing this.
Of course Republicans can only win by cheating. It’s utterly impossible for that many people to vote against what is clearly in their best interest.
I see you’ve been reading my facebook feed.
Mrs. P: “I don’t understand why 99% of people aren’t voting against that racist sexist horrible 45.”
Me: “You might want to consider the possibility that you live in a media bubble, if you can’t understand why promising to lock up the entire populace, and destroy their livelihood, and take their guns, might not result in Biden winning every single state by a 98 point margin.”
supporting riots + defunding police + gun control = LOSING
I will be very interested to see how much effect all the new gun owners have in swing states. Biden/Harris is a hardcore gun control/confiscation ticket. You would expect most of the new gun owners to vote against it, since presumably they want to keep their new guns.
As ridiculous as this sounds, I have met Lefties who own AR-15s themselves but advocate strict regulations on who can have them. They assume that they would obviously be judged as supremely intelligent and responsible and eligible for AR-15 ownership.
This assumes these new gun owners are coming to conclusions based on logic rather than feelings. My wife is talking about wanting to buy a gun. There is a 0% chance she would vote for Trump.
As ridiculous as this sounds, I have met Lefties who own AR-15s themselves but advocate strict regulations on who can have them.
I remember a coworker telling me that the 2nd A is sacrosanct and all Americans should be able to own guns. However, all private firearms must safely stored at a government owned-range where they can only be signed out for use at said range.
The mental gymnastics that gun control proponents use to twist the meaning of confiscate is astonishing.
My wife is talking about wanting to buy a gun. There is a 0% chance she would vote for Trump.
“Well, if you want to keep that gun, or get ammo for it, you might not want to vote for Biden.”
Charitable take, as usual from Mr. Cooke.
Well, as long as Hitler meant well… FFS.
Law and order Republicans likely aren’t interested in the riots stopping because the rioters have been appeased. They are more likely to want the riots to stop because the rioters are in jail.
Much of the “dismay” in law and order circles is less with the riots per se, and more with the feeble response to them.
People who will riot more and loot more and burn even more shit to the ground if they don’t win an election – which scenario is more likely:
1) You give them more power upfront to prevent more rioting and looting and burning – and then out of gratitude they don’t use the power you just handed them, and all the rioting and looting and burning stops.
2) You give them more power upfront to prevent more rioting and looting and burning – and they use that power to fulfill their explicit promises that they would take away a massive amount of your rights, and then they really go to town with the rioting and burning and looting to get you to appease them even more at the next election.
Back in the day there was a word for people who used violence to reach their political goals.
That’s an interesting goalpost move. Election by polls.
Battlespace prep for contesting the election, rioting, and further sedition by the Dems if they lose.
I think I agree with him insofar as there might be some serious shit going down after the election. Not 100% sure which side will take it worse if they lose… but probably the democrats as they’ve been simmering for 4 years already. Hope ya’ll are locked and loaded.
This will be a contested election. The mail-in ballots guarantee that, as they drag out the counting process and knock giant holes in ballot security. Mail-in balloting may be the worst possible thing you could do to the credibility and legitimacy of elections.
After a protracted, vicious fight in several swing states, whoever loses will be convinced they were cheated.
We already know how the Dems will react if they lose. The question is, how will the Repubs react if they lose? With their usual somnolent civility?
Yeah, about those swing states…
Gun control may not be a winning message this election.
I’d be interested to see an estimate of how many new gun owners there are in the swing states. The real mystery, of course, is how many of the new gun owners would have voted for a Dem in more ordinary times, and vote for Trump because of a shift in their thinking.
Well, if the Dems were running on “you paid too much for those guns, just like you pay too much for health care, or rent, or tuition”…
The Bee has the better headline.
There is a bit of a Tom Swift feel here.
I like it.
please let this happen……..
https://hotair.com/archives/john-s-2/2020/09/14/president-trump-says-hes-four-hour-debate-moderated-joe-rogan/
I am more likely to wake up spongy and bruised after a weekend of hot monkey sex with Gail Gadot, than Biden is to debate Trump for 4 hours moderated by Joe Rogan.
Lucky you!!
Joe’s handlers don’t let him walk across a parking lot unattended.
In high school composition, we were required to keep a writing journal. I used to write sci-fi stuff a lot like this. I always added a Twilight Zone twist at the end. Though your writing is a lot better than mine was! I’m looking forward to part 2.
WTF Canada?
https://thepostmillennial.com/over-80-gunshots-fired-at-etobicoke-gender-reveal-party-shootout
Gender Reveal Party Shootout is the name of my noisepunk band’s third album.
SHELDON ROCKS! SHELDON ROCKS!
*holds up lighter*
/Old school
Safer than fireworks.
At 4:30am. Yeaaahh… I’m guessing it stopped being a “gender reveal party” many hours earlier.
I’m sure plenty of people were revealing their gender well into the night.
And then they said “sore-y”.
An interesting video from The Foundation for Economic Education talking about a new Brave New World miniseries that I didn’t know existed:
https://youtu.be/y5C2qwbBM0s
I don’t need to sign up for yet another on demand service but has anyone here watched it? Is it worth a damn?
Damn, it’d be nice to have a debate moderated by Joe Rogan.
It would but I don’t think the Dems are that stupid.
Yuh can’t be that sure…
There was some review panning it that said it had boring orgies.
It’s probably still better than that Apple commercial inspired by Foundation.
Boring orgies? WTF? That can’t be allowed.
Judging from the looks of the lead actress I don’t think boring would be the right word to use.
I think they have “intimacy advisers” now who’s job it is to make sure the actresses aren’t being exploited for the male gaze anymore #meetoo.
I know I’ve never been to a boring orgy.
As long as the Normans don’t have to correlate…
Animal, this was fantastic. Thank you.
Also, this part – “…my Jones-Utz particle stability desensitizer…” was grand. My favorite potato chip firm and a decent soda-works launching a high-tech joint venture? What a world!
Yeah, I got a little hungry reading that.
I could see all of the made up scientific names were some form of food or stupid celebrity.
Something like a Sanders-Cadbury Causality theorem or the Penn-Clooney Confusion Paradox.
You don’t seem concerned about the woman that was assaulted by Jacob Blake.
We care about the issues that plague our community, and in light of all of the things that we see going on in our country, we as Saints want to utilize our platform this season for meaningful change, not to distract from issues. Not to stick to sports, but to work together as teammates for meaningful change. Our goal is to raise awareness about the current state of black women in America.
When it comes to broader conversation of social justice, black women are usually left out. As is evidence in the case of Breonna Taylor … we are failing to acknowledge the intersecting impacts of racism and sexism of black women. As men we feel it is time to evaluate our spaces, do our part, and use our platform to uplift the stories of our most disenfranchised. By uplifting our leaders, the left out, and the overlooked. We can bring about solutions that elicit systemic change both in New Orleans and around the country and ultimately make a safer, more equitable America.
We invite you to take a journey with us this season. Take a journey with us to help us ensure that all people are treated equally and fairly, to have and live full complete lives … for future generations to come. Because we are the Saints … and it’s time we say her name.
Maybe you could just stick to football.
I wonder what it’d cost to have a local witch doctor put a voodoo curse on The Saints: Zero victories and male pattern baldness for the whole lot including the cheerleaders.
I’m pretty sure they brought one on themselves when the Superdome was built. It sits (roughly) where an old cemetery (final resting place for Col. William Bliss, after whom Ft. Bliss is named) once did. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girod_Street_Cemetery
They also don’t seem concerned about the police officer Blake tried to stab a year ago in Skokie, IL.
I don’t understand how these violent felons with a mile long rap sheet are on the street and other nonviolent criminals are doing hard time.
Why don’t you understand? BO and Eric Holder explained it in great detail years ago.
Let me explain….*screams FUCK YOU directly into Florida Man’s ear*
I think Don would appreciate this line
Texas is full of false narratives
Bonus points for noticing that central TX is full of Czechs.
I like the Carolina style. Mostly because I don’t like sweet
I have never encountered the “gravy made from brisket drippings” myself, but I am intrigued.
me either, but damn if I don’t have a goal for next weekend.
Reminds me I have to pull out the brisket from the freezer for next weekend.
?♂️
If you didn’t know BBQ was racist, you’ll just need to check your privilege right here.
This story gets an F. Not enough diversity. Not even a non-white lesbian.
https://babylonbee.com/news/academy-strips-schindlers-list-of-best-picture-award-for-not-having-more-lgbtq-characters
Honestly I could see that happening in this environment. Someone will say well the Nazis sent Gypsies, Homosexuals and other minorities to the camps too!
Well, they kind of ripped that from the headlines, didn’t they? Going forward they’re going to have quotas for minimum amounts of various favored minorities*.
*Almost wrote ‘diversity’, but I don’t think that is the actual metric, and it is practically newspeak
The Custer and Butler ones are pretty good:
https://twitter.com/CNZander/status/1302796380713476096
It finally happened, and I didn’t notice at first, Poutine on fries!. i got some “pub” fries from wendy’s, Bacon and cheese, looked good until I saw wha I thoughtwas White Cheddar. Two bites later I Says, GHAAA! what happened to the fries! Slime! I gave it to Bella.
You had to make a sacrifice to Bella. If it was worth it, you could have left her scarfing on those fries, it would’ve been a glorious day.
I don’t envy you the fried potato dog farts.
SBD no less,
One thing stood out to me… this could get interesting. Nice read so far Animal, thanks for all you do here.
obligatory
The punishments are ramping up in Ohio. The first bar has had their liquor license revoked for not enforcing the state’s mask mandate.
This virus is so fucking dangerous, that the state is sending their enforcers into plague dens. Got it.
Sean, it bullsy puckle. There is no word which relays the embarrassment employedely.
Are you having a stroke?
Just channeling his inner Biden. Kinda like mouth exercises for actors.
A glimmer of hope?
We will see when the State appeals and John Roberts strikes it down as being necessary for the good of the country and not to impact elections.
-1 suicide pact
“If you or someone you know has had their rights violated by a Government agency, contact Prince Law Offices today to discuss YOUR rights and legal options.”
This is going to be a long conversation
Damnit Suthen, at first I was ?, then i paused ?, and then ? cuz you’re right.
*Makes note to buy more bourbon*
More “freedom is slavery” from Box:
https://www.vox.com/21432760/coronavirus-2020-trump-government-response-covid-19-biden-america
It is a thin form of liberty, but it is all we will have left if we cannot govern collectively. We all want to be free to make our own choices. But we need government that works well enough so we have good choices to make.
I’m not sure I have words for that other than “Seek help and leave me the fuck alone you pusillanimous asshole.”
“pusillanimous”
Great word!
“The burden of decision-making and risk in this pandemic has been fully transitioned from the top down to the individual…”
Tell that to the States that are you know, making decisions such as lockdowns, businesses that can/cannot be opened, what to wear, when to wear it, etc. Other than that, yeah, sure.
“Congress shall make no law respecting …. the right of the people peaceably to assemble…”
Fuck every governor in the country save Kristi Noem.
Well honestly, if I had a choice as to which one I’d…
Yeah, I know. I should have included the words ‘hate’ and ‘with a chainsaw’.
Kristi deserves good dry-aged steak dinner and….
“We’d love to let you make your own choices, but we just can’t trust you to make the choices we want you to make.”
You aren’t free unless you are free to be wrong.
It took a while but it looks like my praying for another Katrina is going to pay off.
Looks like Biloxi is gonna get hammered again eh?
Get rid of insurance for gulf coast anything and I can have back the redneck riviera of my youth.
Ohhhhhh boy. The paradox of time travel bites again.
And again! And again…!
Can we go back in time and get the links posted on time?