Tuesday, February 6, 2007


Fear is the strongest emotion, and Fear of the Unknown is the most powerful kind of Fear, said H. P. Lovecraft. What do you Fear?

Check out Fear Knocks!



The closing down of a free society...

When the all black Chinook helicopters and all black shirts come around four o’ clock in the morning to get the man, he’s ready for them. Well, not ready to fight back but ready to run for his life. The all black shirts are not shirts at all but all body armored morality police, indistinguishable from soldiers after posse comitatus ran out of practice.
The man, Mr. Polinski, his breath runs ragged. He is very much physically conditioned but let’s see how well one does when adrenaline kicks in at a full sprint through the dark woods, Chinook searchlights breaking the cottonwood canopy, thrusting their wispy sight in search of “me,” Polinski acknowledges. If the searchlights don’t find him, the dogs certainly will.
Mr. Polinski’s cell smells like urine due to the fact that there is no stainless steel prison toilet to be found.
Polinski or more precisely, number 44397, holds his arm in pain as the police drag him, toes dug in, to the medic vehicle. 44397 doesn’t know why they bother to bandage him but soon finds out when he sees two wagons headed for two different train yards. From the two different train yards, the trains will go to two different camps. One of the camps is for “reeducation” and the other; let’s just say that aside from the practice of necromancy, corpses can’t be “reeducated”.
Nobody believed that the camps had actually gone into construction decades before their employment by the federal government. The photos were always so grainy… And besides, things of this nature can’t manifest within the confines of a democracy, can they? T.V. pundits, talking heads tried to assure people that there was nothing to worry about, that it didn’t matter that the barbed wire in the photographs was pointed in… “It doesn’t matter which way the barbed wire faces,” one pundit said, “you can scale a fence with ease no matter the direction,” he continued… “It’s to keep people out.”
Regardless of his situation and the heavy, vomit inducing smell of urine emanating all around him, 44397 allows himself to smile at the thought of that damned television pundit.
An M-16 rifle butt slams into Polinski’s face, breaking his nose and shoving a couple of teeth straight through his upper lip. 44397’s mouth fills with blood and the pain is excruciating, his vision is blinded by the white light behind his eyes and if the ringing in his ears doesn’t stop, he thinks he might go mad. “Mr. Polinski,” the warden with the black, shiny boots says, “I hear you’re having a little trouble with our… curriculum here.” The warden withdraws a handkerchief from his coat pocket, “God it stinks in here,” he remarks, “fucking urine.” 44397 says nothing as he crawls away trying to get as far away from this mean man as possible.
The warden sits in a chair, the only chair available in the cell, across from 44397 who is slunk, cowering against the blood splatter-stained wall. “Do you know why we initially spared your life, Mr. Polinski?” the warden asks. Polinski’s will is broken and he shakes his tremoring head no in response. “Because you were intelligent. We had hoped that you could be eventually… persuaded to work with us and not against us. You know you pissed alot of my superiors off with your broadcasts,” the warden fishes a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lights the end, inhaling and exhaling without any apparent satisfaction. “You were smart about your infractions however, I will give you that.” The warden sighs and then stands up, shaking his head, “do you have any idea how long it took us to find you? Hmmph.” The warden walks over to 44397, leveling his assault rifle as he goes. “What a waste,” the black shiny boots say to 44397. I’m going to have an orderly clean this cell from top to bottom, get that piss smell right out…”
From the far right came the thought police and extermination. From the far left came the gulags where it was believed that people could be rehabilitated and even helped.
Have any of you ever seen propaganda bring a nation to its knees? Have you ever seen a nation that while on its knees, wraps it’s mouth around the long, hard pole that is corporate media and suck, all the while asking: how hard?

PrinceofDarkness said...

I liked where the story was going, but then the last personal comment kind of lost it for me... went from pretty good, true-life fiction, if there is such a thing, to a sudden commentary that should, for the most part, already be inferred in the fiction. My two cents:)