Tag Archives: paranormal

The Thing from the Gutter

The tall wide form lumbered down the dreary dark street as some shrunken giant from tales of old.  A dwarf among his own kind but a giant here not that anyone single person would pay notice as the slick streets were empty.  Only one in three street lights were illuminated to save energy.  They glimmered a dim foul yellowish brown light as they struggled against the gloom of the thick moonless night.  It had rained that day for those of an age that referred to it as such and it felt like it might drip again, but precipitation at night was far less dreadful.  The brick and mortar buildings well over two centuries old slowly crumbled the blackened panes of glass staring out onto the street like great evil eyes watching the night. Only a rare establishment was open for the adventurous young their lighted interiors sending a muddy yellow cast out into the looming pitch.

His body was covered with a thick black duster.  The sheen indicated a leather especially treated for the elements.  His hands and head were fearlessly bare, his feet clad in heavy boots made of the same animal skin caked in a heavy layer of wax.  He kept his attention on his feet.  Each practiced step was carefully placed flat so as to encourage maximum traction.  After all it had rained that day.

The dim street light’s weak rays reflected off the pavement like moonlight off a black sea.  Ripples of grim yellow light flicker fluttering as under a slight breeze each traced but a side wise pattern of rainbow echos.  It was his feet though, that he kept his eyes on as it was the promised bottle at the end of this trip that had encouraged him to take this unplanned journey.  He shook the thing that hung from his left hand, something draped in a thick waxy oil cloth.  The sound of metal rattling and the squeaking squeal of alarmed rodents where a sure sign that his cargo was okay.  It wouldn’t do if what he had promised didn’t arrive alive.

He strode across the street without hesitation.  The ancient traffic sentinel still kept it’s post from insulated cables all though these relics hadn’t fared so well.  Rusty and skeletal the wind no longer stirred them instead blowing through with little resistance. Three of the four stop signs at the intersection had been long removed, not that it mattered for only the very young venture out after sunset anymore.  His long legs keep a steady slow pace as though they wee mechanical.  He didn’t have far to go.

He turned into a dark storefront.  It’s great plate glass panes gritty reflected a grey translucent glow.  The scarred  brick worn front was well into it’s later years.  The flaking mortar was much like the wrinkles of an ancient human face.  This might have occurred to he that walked if he cared to see.  He kept his eyes glued on the pavement.   He was fully well aware how treacherous the world beneath his feet could be.

Two doors stood with thick stainless steel frames that held thick plate glass worn and gritty like the windows through which people once shopped.  The one to the right lead into the dark and vacant business that was once.  This small downtown around once a great city grew had seen far better days.  Many of the spaces intended for retail had long been disused.  Again his eyes stayed on the ground.  His hand grasped the handle on the door to the left beyond which revealed a long flight of stairs.  He took them nearly two at a time hoping for the shelter offered somewhere deep inside.  Four long strides took his long frame across the second floor passed quiet apartment doors to  second flight of stairs.  These bent back upon themselves and covered almost the same deep distance as the first.  His pace quickened. He was close to his goal.

It was at the top where he took a hard left turn down a long dark hall.  It came to an end between two doors.  One was an escape route once for fires but now for most any environmental emergency.  The other a gateway into an apartment.  This apartment held an old friend and a promised bottle.  This bottle was in all probability the only thing that could have brought him out the night after a storm, other than work.  His knuckles rapped hard on the hollow wood three times.

“Took you long enough,” Muttered a shadow revealed as the door swung silently open.

“I had to find them,” The taller replied in a huff, “It took time.”

The shorter shadow grunted stepping back and to the traveler’s right.  He stepped into the dim apartment setting the object he had carried in his hand, still covered in thick wax oil cloth.  The metal rattled and squeaked as it had to support its own weight.

“Close the door,” The shadow fading in the dim light to reveal the resident’s dark features.

“Bitch, bitch,” Muttered the traveler as he pulled the heavy leather duster from his shoulders.  He shook it once with a hard snap drawing a hiss from the resident.  He pulled his leather All Conditions boots from his feet revealing bread wrappers over stocking feet colored white to grimy grey..  The traveler wore a heavy pair of brown canvas overalls partially concealed under a white lab coat.

“May I?” The resident asked.  He reached then thought better of it and instead pointed toward the cage covered under the heavy oil cloth.  The cage squeaked.  This was not a noise of metal but of rodent.

“You promised…” The giant in hiding commented as he pulled his feet free from the bread wrappers.  It was something of a struggle as the plastic was held tight to his calves by thick rubber bands.  The resident watched the struggle only for a few brief moments.  He smiled his lips cracking as if to laugh but no sound came into the world.

“Right,” He said finally disappearing around a corner and into the depths of the apartment.  The longer tall man finally free of the pesky plastic bread wrappers stepped into the living room.  The room was dimly light by a shaft of yellow light from the doorway to his left.  The machine in the window muttered and hissed releasing a dribble of cool freshly filtered air in to the stuffy apartment.  The air  had a thick stale quality that caused one to work up a mouthful of spit and swallow.

“Why haven’t you replaced this?” He asked looking from the window unit over his shoulder into the room that was intended for dining.

“Thomas?” The traveler called out careful not to yell, “This thing isn’t up to code.”

“Yes, yes,” Muttered Thomas as he pressed a fresh bottle into his friends hand, “You say that every time.”

Thomas continued passed the taller man reaching towards the carefully concealed package hidden under the waxy oil cloth.  The traveler made a warning sound causing Thomas to stop and look back with an expression that was almost hurt.

“I brought you the bottle, Did I not?”

He stood straight and looked up at the traveler.  The taller jostled the smaller to the side as he reached for the oil cloth.  A quick tug pulled it free to reveal a wire cage in which there where imprisoned four large rats.  Three were a mangy grey while the fourth was a pristine white with bright eyes.

“You put Morris in with…” Thomas said slowly.

“There is a good chance for weather tonight,” Interrupted the traveler as he slipped the bottle unopened into the left pocket of his lab coat.  It took him a moment to fish the pristine white rat from inside the cage while still keeping the others imprisoned.  He left Morris free to climb up the right sleeve of his lab coat to find its familiar perch on his right shoulder.

“Yes, yes,” Clucked Thomas, “The weather.”

He held the cage up looking at the three that remained.

“Are these mutants?”

“Unlikely,” The traveler answered having freed the bottle.  He studied the label while pursing his lips.

It was a bottle of Bushmil’s Irish Whiskey.  This fact provoked a smile on the travelers face.

“Do you have a clean glass?” Asked the traveler staring at the bottle.

“You know where to look,” Answered Thomas holding the cage high so that he could clearly see the rodents with in.  That answer meant “No.”  They had known each other for many more years than either cared to admit.   The shorter darker man walked into the next room still studying the cages nervous contents.  He still held it high as he walked directly to the far corner.  The taller paler followed watching his feet.  The carpet that covered the floor from wall to wall was pearly white once long ago.  This was apparent from the border around the room from a lonely couple of feet to a good yard in some places.  The rest had turned a dark dirty grey over years of use and a general lack of care.  The traveler paused by a large aquarium the top almost chest high that stood in the near center.  He paused looking down into the glass enclosure cracking the seal on the bottle.

“So what is this about?” He asked taking a sip from the bottle a letting the heat warm his mouth before swallowing, “What did you find?”

“It is really quite strange,” Thomas answered leaving the metal wire cage on the top of a leaning stack of magazines and papers.  The three sewer rats within stirred nervously.

“I was on my way back from Trey’s One Stop this morning,” Thomas began to explain as he rubbed his hands together the back of his left in the palm of his right.  This was a nervous habit he had possessed since at least university.

“The sun hadn’t yet fully cooked away the black,” He explained.  This was a statement about the time.  It was much like saying late morning.

“When I saw this mass in the gutter,” Thomas’ voice had gotten to that quiet calm full of latent expectancy, “I spotted it immediately.”

“Uh-huh,” Grunted the taller paler man pulling a full swallow from the bottle before replacing the cap.

“I tell you Robert, I don’t know how I recognized it.  I just did.  I poked it with my mail box key and I swear it responded…like…”

No two men in this lost small coastal town were more different.  Thomas was mostly unemployed.  It was something in his nature that caused him to shy away from bosses though he did have a skill set.  He was well educated, astute and he worked here or there mostly in the underground economy.  The people there didn’t ask questions.  They wanted their business kept private and they made it worth Thomas’ while.  Robert on the other hand worked in both the city and the county’s infrastructure department.  He was a trouble shooter.  This meant that every day one, the other or both gave him a crisis list and otherwise he was his own boss.  It would be hard for an outsider to understand their relationship.  There was something about Thomas that reminded Robert of his days back at the University.   That was when the excitement of learning and discovery over took both of them.  That was before the catastrophe when Climate Change was still the greatest threat.  In essence their relationship and these once and a while weird nightly projects evoked a sense of nostalgia that Robert enjoyed like a potent drug.

“Well let’s see the thing,” Robert prompted.  He unscrewed the cap on the liquor bottle and drew a shot letting it lay on his tongue.  The stinging warm from the first drought had been replaced by a strong sweet grain flavor.  The machine in the window whispered and squeaked.  Thomas had walked out of the room to Roberts left.  Robert though keep his attention focused on the interior of the empty aquarium.  His expression was peaceful and expectant.

“I wasn’t sure what to do with the thing,” Stated Thomas as he walked back into the room holding and ancient green plastic Tupperware bowl.  It had lost its lid long ago.  The crisis had caused all commercial plastic production to cease.  Plastic had become to important for production for profit.  His voice drew Robert’s attention as he replaced the capped bottle back into his right coat pocket.  He glanced into the plastic container as Thomas approached the empty aquarium.

Inside, at the bottom, was a bit of black oily sludge about the size of his palm.  It was frosty and when the light struck it just so it produced a flashing rainbow.

“You froze it?”

“I know what you are going to say,” Thomas clucked, “But I needed to clean out the old experiment from the test tank.”

He nodded at the empty aquarium as he squeezed the Green Tupperware bowl between his palms.

“Believe me, Robert.  This thing is nearly indestructible.”

Robert simply shook his head slowly from side to side.

“You, my friend are a maniac,” He stated finally.  An ancient memory flashed in his mind of an old stasis project Thomas had undertaken in college.  It involved a white rat, a freezer and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.  It was a strange and sweet memory.  The involved shenanigans flashed through Robert”s mind’s eye bring a slight smile to his features.  Thomas rapped his knuckles on the side of the green plastic as he turned it upside down over the open aquarium.  The palm sized bit of black sludge shaped like the bottom of the bowl fell free and landed with a sharp tingling thump on the glass bottom of the aquarium.

“It is still frozen,” Robert observed.

“Patience,” Thomas’ voice had a breathy quality.  He was excited.  There was the possibility of a new fundamental discovery.  This is why he went to college in the first place.  He craved the academic cutting edge.  It was close.

Robert shrugged putting the bottle to his lips.  He was trying to just sip but the spirits effect was starting to take hold.  The bottle had paused at just about the half way point to His lips.  He stared at the smooth chunk of what could only be described as coagulated axle grease.  Soft rainbows fluttered across its surface like the same colors on a slick of oil.  Robert had the distinct feeling or discontent in his stomach.

“I don’t think that thing is alive,” Robert said finally pressing the mouth of the bottle to his lips.  Thomas poked at it with his finger.  Robert swallowed hard.  That last sip might have been a mistake as that intense queasy feeling intensified in his stomach.

“It seems stunned,” Thomas said thoughtfully, “Or a bit sluggish.”

“That’s a mild understatement,” Robert said sarcastically as he twisted the cap back on the bottle of liquor and replaced it back in his coat pocket.  Thomas looked thoughtful and finally pulled the wire cage from the tottering stack of papers and magazines.  He pushed open the door and tipped the cage roughly shaking the three sewer rats from within to with out.  The rats quickly fell from the cage.  If they hadn’t wanted to be on the outside of that metal wire prison the task would have been nigh impossible.  They tumbled an twisted the short distance hitting the glass at the bottom of the aquarium.  Two of the three mangy sewer rats had landed entirely on their feet.  The third had landed on its side.  It bounced the highest and landed the nearest the black oily glob of coagulated axle grease.  There was sudden scramble after which three grey tattered sewer rats paced back and forth near the farther end of the aquarium.

Thomas seemed displeased.  He poked the blob from the gutter with his extended right index finger.  It was still frozen.  Robert’s stomach tingled and flipped a bit as he watched Thomas poke the thing with his bare outstretched finger.

“You ought to be more careful,” Robert said softly, “The thing could be dangerous.”

Morris shuffled nervously on his right shoulder.  Its whiskers fluttering in alarm.

“Yes, yes,” Thomas clucked, his mind distant, “I think I must thaw this thing out…let’s see.”

He muttered as he walked slowly back into a dark room just of to Roberts left.  Thomas didn’t bother to turn on a light.  Robert’s attention refocused on the thing that lay in the bottom of the aquarium.  His stomach flipped and he began to swallow.  He felt as though he might get sick.  He could feel Morris shuffling on his shoulder.  Thomas reappeared in the studio turned laboratory with startling speed.  He carried, among other things, a car battery and a pair of jumper cables. He set the car battery down on the dirty carpet next to his feet.  He shuffled through several pairs of long metal probes carefully taking a few minutes to read the resistor at the base of each.  It took him only a minute or two to make up his mind.  Finally having decided which long metal probes he wanted to use and affixing them to the end of the jumper cables.  They had been adapted for a new purpose.  The thick layers of black electrical tape wrapped around each of the Jerry rigged ends attested to this fact.

Robert had seen this device before.  He shook his head from side to side but remained quiet.  Thomas pulled a thick black rubber glove over each hand before connecting the thick copper clips to the heavy duty car battery.  He touched the probes together producing a thick snapping spark.

“You’re going to start a fire,” Robert warned.

“You say that every time.”

Robert remained quiet.  The point wasn’t worth arguing.  Instead he watched as the largest of the dirty grey sewer rats moved cautiously towards the frozen blob of axle grease.  Its nose worked overtime trying to get some sense of the thing that it and its companions shared the tank with.  The aquarium was nearly as high as Thomas’ shoulders but that did not dissuade the intellectual adventurer.  He moved the probes down towards the blob keeping them a safe distance apart.  The older bolder rat paid the probes no attention.  It’s focus was on the blob of black still icy and still sitting. The long metal probes closed each on the opposite side of the thing that Thomas had found in the gutter.  They had nearly made contact with the surface of the thing when a loud snapping crack sounded accompanied by a bright flash of bluish white light.  Thomas pulled the probes apart reflexively and waited a moment.

“Notice it conducts electricity,” He said thoughtfully.

Robert said nothing.  His mind was focused on fighting off the intense feeling of nausea.  He swallowed several times in a row.  The electricity snapped again accompanied by another flash of blue white light.  The flash briefly illuminated the room.  The light cast everything in blue adding a ghoulish flare.  Robert felt his body begin to normalize,  His gaze now was fixed on that bold older rat that had not strayed away from it’s study of the foreign thing.  It was bolder than I, Robert thought as his friend pulled the probes away and set them carefully on the top of the cage that swayed itself a top the stack of papers and magazines.  He reached down into the aquarium and pressed a single rubber clad finger against the apparent blob of coagulated decayed petroleum.

“Damn,” Thomas muttered, “Its still frozen.”

Morris the white reformed lab rat shuffled nervously on Robert’s shoulder.  Robert felt the top of the imported bottle with the tip of his fingers  Thomas huffed and walked back into the darkened room through a door way to Robert’s left.  Robert turned his head glancing hoping to see Morris.  They had been companions for several years and the calm friendly white rat had offered the man a great deal of comfort over that time.  It was less than a minute by Robert’s reckoning before Thomas reappeared carrying a boxy metallic object and another pair of jumper cables.  The cables this time were untampered with and it should have struck Robert as odd that Thomas owned two pair of these objects.  They were rare and expensive.  Copper had become quite valuable since the incident.

Robert forced his attention back to the largest of the trapped sewer rats.  It had gotten so close to the black greasy blob from the gutter that it could have pressed its nose against it’s frozen surface.  This evoked yet another round of nausea.  It had been some number of months since Robert had strong drink.  He had concluded quietly to himself that this was the cause of his gastric complaining.

“To many amps,” Thomas muttered half to the air and half to Robert, “Let’s try higher voltage.”

Robert still said nothing and watched the older bolder rat as it inspected the thing from the gutter.  Robert would have as on other occasions made some sideways comment about the safety of the home brewed transformer but he remained silent.  His attention on the rat as the probes again neared the thing from the gutter.  Blue light flashed illuminating the clutter of the room in a ghoulish cast.  This normally would have been more than entertaining for Robert.  It was the tangle of electric that danced across the glimmering thing and the startled jump of the nervous rat that held him.  He stared in eerie fascination as the rat found the spot in the aquarium most distant from the tangle of electric claws and the thing that flashed oily rainbows.

Thomas pressed on and held the probes letting the suspected new life form absorb the energy in reckless abandon.  It was after several long seconds that the thing had suddenly relaxed .  It took on the appearance of a blob of commercially produced grease.  It was no longer frozen.  Thomas left the probes near the thing, let the electric dance until Robert was about to scream at him.  Then, as if reading His friends mind, Thomas pulled the probes away.  The room flashed dark again.  The sound of the cracking electric ceased.  The thing throbbed as if taking a breath.

Thomas stood still.  A single long metal probe held in each casual rubber encased hand and well apart.  His teeth shown through a wicked smile.  His eyes were fixed on the thing.  Robert’s eyes were driven wide by disbelief. The thing slowly expanded and contracted it’s form relaxing so that it looked like a chunk of soft pudding.  The heating planet and the thick pitch colored pollution that rained down from the sky now most every day had created that thing.  Was such a phenomena even possible?  Could this be something else?

“Could the electricity have produced some vibration?” Robert asked no one in particular.

Morris the rescued white lab rat shifted nervously from side to side on his shoulder.  The black blob glimmered a greasy flashing dark rainbow as it slowly rose and fell with what one could only imagine was something like breathing.  The three grey sewer rats paced back and forth across the far side climbing over one another to avoid closing the distance towards the thing.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Thomas said defensively.

He set the probes so that they hung from both sides of the teetering stack of papers and magazines only half paying attention.  His excitement was visible.  Robert was turning a pale grey as the reality of the thing settled into his mind.  He pulled his hand away from the bottle in the pocket of his lab coat.  The thing moved sliding a thin pseudo-pod towards the far side of the aquarium and then pulling its blob like black pudding form towards the trapped rats.

“I discovered it so I get to name it, right?” Thomas asked clasping his hands together through thick black rubber gloves.

Robert said nothing swallowing the bile that hung about the back of his throat.  The feeling of the need to vomit grew yet he could not take his eyes off of the thing as it again pulled its black greasy glimmering body yet closer to the trapped sewer rats.

“Finally,” Said Thomas his toothy wicked smile hardening, “Vindication.”

He leaned forward hesitantly reaching a hand into the aquarium.  The nameless thing had closed more than half of the distance towards the three sewer rats.  They reacted by trying to bolt around it towards the side of the aquarium nearest Robert.  The largest rat followed by one of the smaller dashed like a grey shadow around the long side to the corner by Robert’s right hand.  The other lone rat moved to the left hand side.

How could something that moved that slow hope to survive in this petroleum tainted world?  It leapt.  A long finger of oily pitch leapt towards the lone rat.  It screamed as the thing caught it.  Robert jumped.  Morris crouched low on his shoulder only his whiskered nose moved.  Robert’s eyes widened to an impossible width.  The thing pulled its body over the rat, flesh bubbling under its oozing body.  The flesh liquefied leaving just bones.  The extended index finger of Thomas’ right hand, still encased in black rubber, pushed through the air towards the thing.

“I don’t know if…” Robert stated to say.

“Come, come Robert.” Thomas responded his eyes unblinking as his wide toothy smile began to press hard exaggerated lines into his face, “It knows me.  I rescued it.  I have fed it.”

Robert snapped his mouth shut looking to the two remaining rats that huddled in the corner just to his right side.  He touched the thing with the tip of his right index finger making a petting motion.  Thomas’ face had frozen in a image somewhere between joy and absolute madness.  The thing paid Thomas no obvious attention.  It instead began to pull it’s oozing black slimy body towards the remaining rats.

“How does it know?” Robert asked the air, “How does it sense the world?”

The thing pulled  away from the slowly liquefying bones of the first victim and was now determined to find the two that remained.  The two rats remaining had begun to panic trying desperately to find some way of scaling the glass walls of the fish tank.  The thing had grown in size.

“My discovery,” Thomas muttered pulling his hands from the inside of the aquarium, “My pet.  It is perfection.”

Robert instinctively shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He then shuffled his feet.   Something about this movement, some arcane sorcery, snapped him back into his right mind.  He stepped back from the aquarium.  The thing moved with startling speed leaping outstretched like a webbed hand.  The larger rat was lucky.  The smaller was not.  It left a piercing high pitched scream as the thing from the gutter caught it.  It’s flesh turning to a thick grey red syrup as the alien product from a polluted environment greedily a sucked it up.  Robert took a step back.  The remaining rat darted to the far corner putting space between it and the predator.

Thomas pulled his hands free from the thick black rubber gloves.  He began to reach his bare right hand towards the thing as it greedily consumed it’s meal.

“Thomas,” Robert said his gaze glued on the hand it’s fingers pressed together as if he were about to stroke a beloved pet.

Thomas made no response.

“Thomas?” Robert repeated the question watching as the hand closed the distance.  The thing had grown noticeably.  It was undeniable.  He pulled his gaze to his friends face.  There he saw what could only be described as insane glee and love.  The moment had been too much for his old friend.

“THOMAS?!” Robert’s voice broke into the air in a loud high pitch.

“It knows me,” Said the wanna be scientist, “I saved it.”

The thing left the second set of steaming bones as they slowly began to turn to jelly.

Robert took another step back increasing the distance between his body and the aquarium.  He pulled his gaze to the face of his companion.  Thomas had always been a bit strange.  Now it appeared that he was gripped by sudden dark irrationality.

Robert gently scrapped Morris from his shoulder and dropped him into the left hand pocket of his lab coat.

Thomas softly pressed the tips of the fingers of his closed hand to the oozing black mass and stroked it once.  The thing leapt on to him grasping his hand..  Thomas’s expression changed to confused fright.  The flesh of his fingers melted and the thing grew climbing up his arm.  He took a clumsy step backwards half stumbling into the tottering stack of papers and magazines.  The stack had been the most unstable and the sudden collision was too much.  It tumbled, the two metal probes still connected to their power sources went as well.  The probes must have connect as there was a loud crack of electric and a sudden burst of flame.  The thing had climbed to his elbow.  Thomas flapped his arm like a great bird and screamed.  The sound was close to hysteria.

That was it.  Robert was done.  He bolted.

His urge to flee was so strong that he forgot his bread wrappers.  He remembered his boots though and hesitated at the bottom of the steps to put them on his feet.  He didn’t bother to close his coat as he found his way into the outside.  A second ear piercing shriek sent shivers up his spine as he began his journey back home through the dark slick streets.  His feet moved quickly as his legs took long strides under the moonless night sky.  He worked to force the mental images of the thing and the sounds of the inhuman scream to the back of this mind.  It was in this region that he could forget.  Robert quickly covered three blocks before pausing and turning around to face the direction in which the apartment building stood.  He stood silently staring waiting for the flames of the fire sparked by the panicking Thomas to burst through the roof or out through a window.  What he saw after a score of minutes passed was nothing.  He did not perceive even a whiff of smoke.  He shivered fighting to maintain something that resembles sanity.

Robert turned away pulling the right side of the heavy leather coat open and glancing down towards the pocket on the same side of his lab coat.  There he spot the familiar whiskered face of Morris.  The sight of the rodent, whiskers wiggling to take in the scents of the world around him always made Robert feel better.  the atmosphere would have worried him any other time.  His feet inside damp boots would have drawn serious concern.  This was also true of the open oily treated over coat.  Tonight though this was far from his mind.  The thing that Thomas had discovered had reconfigured Robert’s priorities.

“I think we are moving,” He spoke in a regular speaking voice to Morris.

“I can find a job anywhere with my skill set,” He continued not leaving much time for the rat to reply.

“Have you ever seen an or the ocean?” He asked the rat.  The Rat simply looked back.  Her was comfortable in the pocket of the lab coat.

“I see,” Robert sounded concerned, “Well I have a cousin that lives outside Seattle.”

He nodded and smiled as his feet took long rhythmic strides out of the down town.  The thick darkness grew as there were no street lights out in the small city outside of the archaic downtown.

“I think I’ll put my two weeks notice in,” Robert stated still watching his small friend, “What do you think about that?”

Morris said nothing, not even a squeak.

“Good,” Robert sounded pleased, “I’m glad you agree.”

It would be shortly after that that Robert’s long tall form would be swallowed by the dark night.

 

 

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The Internet Tarot Weather Dude’s Alien (ET) Invasion Forecast

Region:  Global

Date(s):  Sunday October 1, 2017 to Monday, New years day,  2018

Tarot Deck Used:  Hermetic

Cards Drawn: The Last Judgement ( 20 Major Arcana, inverse), 5 of Swords,  6 of Cups (inverse),  4 of Wands,  The Lovers (6 Major Arcana, inverse) and The King of Pentacles (inverse)

At first glance one might think that this would be a big yes as far as an Alien Invasion goes.  There is though a particular card I am looking for to arrive in the obverse position and I have yet to see it.  What I do pull from this reading is a bumpy October so expect an up tick in sightings especially in areas that are under stress.  Forms of stress can be economic, ecological or military.

On the other hand November should be generally pleasant with fewer than normal;l sightings.  Any encounters during this month could very well be of a more positive type, at least as far as the Alien encounters department.

Don’t forget to keep your photographic equipment, ie. cell phones handy as you might have an opportunity to catch a decent photograph, if you are into that kind of thing.

By the way, try to get the object in focus and if possible keep some earth bound object in the frame for the sake of scale and always remember, don’t freak out.

Happy hunting and,

Have a better than average day.

Yet another Adjustment

There is a beginning to these things and this beginning is a type of back story or an ethic if you prefer.   At its heart it the idea of a great quest.  A Great Quest is a concept one might encounter in a common novel of the fantasy variety.  I an sure that it occurs in other places as well but I have no examples that stand out in the front of my mind.

A great quest can be as simple as a journey through dangerous country or saving the princesses from a band of highwaymen and it can be very complicated like building an empire, discovering some long lost artifact or rediscovering some bit of knowledge that has been long lost. All of these are similar themes that run through many a story but the idea itself is not that foreign to our daily lives in a non fantastic context.  It is important to note that the Great Quest is not limited to fiction.  There are Great Quests that happen here and now in our shared reality, maybe not as glamorous as rescuing the princess but great none the less.

For instance, going for a higher education beyond a Bachelors for the sole purpose of gaining insight into a thing that is otherwise incomprehensible to you.  This could take a life time and odds are their isn’t a weekly paycheck in it for you, not that you can’t turn that knowledge into cold hard cash its just that the process is different.  A cashless journey to a far distant land and staying for a year, a life time or somewhere in between, even raising a family and keeping said family together is a Great Quest.  For myself the Great quest was knowledge, it was the world I wanted to understand, the human condition and why reality was the way that it was.  This great quest had two lines of attack, one the hard sciences and the second, the occult and mysticism.

Now that I think of it that probably should have been my first warning there that odd combination of seemingly incompatible fields of study.  To me though it made perfect sense as I had extrapolated them from a quote attributed to Carl Gustave Jung, “Psychology and physics are facets of the same concept.”  To me it seemed only natural to infer that Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics, the Occult and Mysticism were all facets of the same concept, in this case human consciousness or humanity itself if you like.  Of course there will be time management issues but I felt as I slept very little that I should be able to manage.  I had contingency plans if something got derailed or if funding dried up or even if I needed to transfer schools in mid stream.  What I didn’t have contingency plans for was failure.

It has been said, by my Action Theory Professor that one cannot plan to fail.  One might argue that a contingency plan is a way of dealing with failure but I think these plans are for foreseeable obstacles and away of planning to succeed.  The Great quest is very much like a horse pulling a load.  Horses in this case often wear blinders.  These are used to keep the horse from being spooked by the various happenings around he or she.  People on the great quest also wear blinders in this case allowing them to concentrate full energy on the goal before them.  The down side to this is that when an event comes out of left field you don’t see it until just a fraction of a second before it makes contact.  This spells disaster and that disaster, in my case, was a mental breakdown.

I distinctly remember the sensation that all of that knowledge in Calculus, Wave Mechanics, Differential equations and Organic Chemistry stood like a house of cards built on shifting sands and when it collapsed it took a great deal more with it.  I was aware that I wasn’t going to be able to proceed into the Masters program right away, that I would need experience so that I might reinforce and strengthen the shaky knowledge I already had but at no point did I think I was crazy.  The thought never crossed my mind.  I entered the work force with out my degree thinking that in time I could go back and finish, the thought of collapse still hadn’t crossed my mind.  The hardest thing was the realization that the goal I had been working on since the age of 12 was now unobtainable.  That all that time and effort had made little or no difference and that not all problems could be overcome or goals achieved through nothing more than hard work.  Reaching this realization though would take some years.  I just couldn’t keep from continuing the act of pounding my head against the wall.  I think it was those blinders that kept me from grasping the reality of the situation more quickly.  In a weird way it was like suddenly finding yourself in prison, through no fault of your own and in this case the bars of the prison were your own mind.

What to do?

Everything had changed.

Rage was beginning to build.

I could plop down in front of a television and booze it up until I died.  Lots of people do that or something a kin to this each year in these days of late.  This is not new, people have been drinking themselves to death forever it seems, now its prescription drugs.  The difference is just the age.  I had to redefine myself.  I had to give up the great quest and turn it it into a hobby of sorts, something of a passing fancy I could dip into on rare occasion.  But that was only part of the solution, I also had to find something to do with myself, something I enjoyed.  This was very difficult.

In reality it comes down to how we define ourselves.  Many of us define our self by the Great Quest, or possibly a job description and even that we are a parent or wife or husband, when we lose this key definition, an idea so deeply entrenched in our minds and for so long that we aren’t even aware it is there.  It is a large part of who we are.  When this is gone it puts us at a loss.  We have a definition of ourselves that has been removed from our existence.  Finding a new direction is practically impossible without first realizing that underlying definition.

I can’t tell anyone how to do this, I don’t think there is an expert out there that can.  This is one of those instances where our individuality is most apparent.  We are peculiar beings.  In the end all I can do is point out that it needs to be done but I have no idea where the guideposts are or what they say.

To anyone going through something like this all I can do is wish you God Speed.  The only advice is introspection and perseverance.  The only wish…

Have a better than average day.

Aide for the Constipated

Feeling bound up?  Moving a little slow?  In need of a good purge?

Try Lay’s Potato Chips.

Before I go any further I would like to make two statements.

The first is that Lays Potato Chips did, in no way, sponsor this content.  Secondly, I have yet to try this remedy myself, but my brother swears by it.

So if it has been a few too many days since you have taken a proper dump and you find that you are moving just a bit to slow.  And you don’t care for commercial chemical stool softeners or laxatives.  Try a half of a bag of Lay’s Potato Chips.  That’s the Lay’s Classic thin chips in the yellow family sized bag.  Don’t let the size of the bag freak you out as they are no where near as big as they use to be.  You need to consume about a half of the contents of said bag.  This should be done earlier in the day and it probably should be a day that you’ll be staying in your home.

Brother states that with in eight hours or so you should experience a sudden and complete evacuation of the contents of not only your colon but a large percentage of the large intestine as well.  He states that it never fails.

As I said earlier, I have never tried this remedy myself and neither has Meta.

Happy pooping.

Have a better than average day.

Meta’s Sleep Workings

While writing out my 60s jokes for this blog, because it had been so many years since telling them last, I just couldn’t remember the second stanza of the elephant trilogy.  I asked others and then scanned their lists of elephant jokes on the internet to no avail.

Finally I thought of my memory aids.  The first ones that I had learned in a memory course that I took during the 70s.  As I cozied into my bed for the night I thought about what I wanted to remember then let myself forget it and relax into sleep.

Sure enough, still in bed the following morning it came to me without bidding.  If you are puzzling over a project or choice think over the problem – forget it- sleep – the answer will occur to you shortly after waking.

If you have things on your mind that you want to accomplish the next day that are keeping you awake try writing them down.  Afterwards forget about them as you cuddle back onto your pillow.  Rest soon follows.

Another technique to bring rest – picture yourself lying in the sand on a warm beach with sea breezes keeping you totally comfortable – feel your body grow heavy – sinking into the nice warm sand.  You will soon fall asleep.

My grand mother taught me that if I concentrated on the time I wanted to wake – then glanced at the clock – I could wake at the time I wanted with out the use of the alarm.

These sleep workings have rarely failed me – nor Iba after I taught him.

Silent Thunder

I remember that we would get together, during the long warm or hot summer’s afternoon to listen to the rain.  It seems in my memory that this happened many times, everyday.  This could just be an illusion of memory.  It likes those type of jokes as it has a sense of humor all its own.

It would be with the first rumble of distant thunder, the skies just beginning to change to that soft grey.  We would gather on the front porch on a side street near the downtown each of us taking one of the many chairs trying to find the spot we thought would best keep us dry.  Dad would have his highball glass freshly filled with bourbon and water poured over an excess of ice and the remains of a long cold cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth.  On occasion these storms could be a bit hostile.  The thunder grew loud and angry either coughing racking cracks, loud or some times rolling like falling bowling pins.  The pale grey could get dark as though a blanket had been pulled over the sky.  It never got like night but it did sometimes turn to a slate grey green.

The wind would whip passed us and we would only leave the porch if it was impossible to stay some what dry, a little wet was to be expected.

When the sky was at its darkest on these summer afternoons would be the time that the lightening would show itself most brightly flashing wildly.  I know that the loud thunder and bright electric gripped me hard with cold tingling fear,  I don’t know about my brothers or mother.  What chatter there was between us would cease when those explosions of thunder occurred around the bright flashes of lightening.  Dad would laugh.  Maybe fear grabbed him too and laughter was just his way of dealing with it.

It was a summer tradition.

In time I would laugh too, when the fear that accompanied nature’s fireworks was at it worst.  This type of weather is like scotch, an acquired taste.  My memory shows me and tells me that both my brothers, brother number four was still a life time away, would laugh as well, the youngest being the last to begin the practice.

In time the laughter faded and we just sat, immersed in the moment.

Over time soda pop became beer and brother and I added tobacco, all at a legal age.  Mom fades from the picture in my head as well as the youngest brother.  We just sat in silence during those summer storms, in the moment until I had become to busy and I fade from the picture as well.

I don’t know how often mom joined us for those events or even the youngest brother but that may have nothing to do with the actual event.  It could be a trick of memory.  Maybe my mothers death back in 1988 at the age of 49 changed the way of where and when I remember her.  Youngest brother ceased any real participation in my life back in the early 1990s.  It could be the same type of phenomena.  It might be that the whole family gathered on that big front porch covered with a thick sturdy roof to watch the summer storms often and the events after the fact changed the way I remembered this.

I’ve noticed over the years, Meta and I had talked about it, that memory is quite strange.  Sometimes I see myself in my own memories, sometimes I do not.  Stranger yet I see the memory from strange angles, like a corner near the ceiling of the room of the event that I am remembering takes place.

The recollections of those summer storms seems like they came from a whole other life time.  My Mom would die a few years after these memories and my mental collapse came on the heels of that particular event, no big surprise in retrospect.  So when I look back from now I am not the same person as I was when the event I am recalling takes place.

Remembering is the the act of taking the pieces of a thing that has been dismembered and trying to put it back together.  That definition comes from the back of the cassette This Winters Night by the neopagan music group, MOTHER”S TONGUE.  Whenever I think about this I get the feeling that the thing dismembered has lost an indeterminate number of pieces.  That the reassembly is a difficult task.

I have spent time in my own memory making serious effort to avoid blame shifting and just trying to understand what’s has happened and why.  It is a task that will never be completed as memory is an imperfect thing.

Rather than remembering the dismembered it strikes me that memory is more like echos from some type of alien environment.  They are mix of known and unknowable some times in a language we recognize and sometimes in a tongue foreign to our ear and under the worst of circumstances a series of sounds not recognizable as a language at all.

Trying to remember anything with any form of relative accuracy is extremely difficult when I find my mind awash in hot sharp emotion.  It is possible to learn from such a thing and I have learned one important idea.

You can never know what is in the mind or heart of another person.

Its best not to assume otherwise.

 

The Internet Tarot Weather Dude

Mine is not to wonder why, but to look askew and cry

Region:  Northwestern Ohio, North Central Ohio, Northeastern Ohio and Northwestern Pennsylvania.

Date(s):  Saturday August 12th to Monday August 14th, 2017

Deck:  Native American

Cards Drawn:  Warrior of Shields (inverse), Chief of vessels (inverse),  The Sun (19 Major Arcana), 5 of Vessels,  6 of Blades (Inverse) and The Shaman.

Forecast:  Friday was the last day of the dog days period and Sirius, the dog star is sinking below the horizon, in this latitude, until next February.  Normally this would be the end of the severe heat for the summer, but summers of late have been misbehaving so don’t take your air conditioners out of  your windows yet.

Saturday look for partly cloudy to partly sunny skies and lingering humidity along with mildly breezy ((5 – 15 mph) conditions.  Temperatures in the upper 70s (77 – 80) with the potential for rain, slight (20% – 30%) during the heat of the afternoon.  Sunday the skies again will start out partly cloudy but clearing as the day unfolds with diminishing winds and cooling temperatures in the middle to upper 70s (74-79).  Where the temperatures warm into the upper 70s there again is the possibility of passing showers during the heat of the day (20% – 30%).  Rain is far more likely in the eastern most regions of the forecast area than n the western most regions.  Monday is an important day for weather watchers as it will set the climatic tone for the remains of the summer.  Whatever the weather is that day will be the general tone of the weather through mid September thanks to the Shaman card.  All in all for this region it has been a better than expected Summer, weather wise.  We should be grateful considering the conditions in other parts of the country and world.

By all means have a great weekend, the weather will be agreeable for out door activities.

Don’t forget about your muse and have a better than average day.

Now just One Minute

I remember, when I was a bit younger, hearing that the life of a butterfly, once freed from the prison of its cocoon, lived for only a day.  I’m not sure how true that is as the Monarch Butterfly lives for six months, if memory serves.  Even if it is rarely true it is still an interesting fact.  I always wondered if that single day of life felt like a single day to the flutterby?  Does it feel as short as it sounds?

When I was about the age of 10 years I was struck by a strange near fatal illness.  I have always been under the impression that it was diphtheria, but I don’t know that as fact.  When I think about the butterfly flutteringby for its single day I wonder how long that passing day seems to the little critter.   I wonder if the butterfly can even conceive of the notion of time much less one as complicated as ours.  I wonder what it would be like for a lifetime to be such that the first half occurred in the light and the second half in the dark.  There is a point to this, I think.

We humans are quite curious in the way we understand our world.  Appointments, work schedules, bank accounts, credit cards, maps and countries are just a few numbers we use in almost every moment of our existence.  Nations, distance between cities and the diameter of our little planet and even the date of our birth and death are other numbers we use often.  Complicated ideas like force and velocity are also based on these strange numbers.  Weight, which is the effect of gravity on mass, length, height and time allow us as intelligent beings to develop an understanding of our reality.  These things, weight, length, time are metrics or units of measure are created by we humans and we accept them for the sake of simplicity.  They do not exist on their own in nature, there is a tree that grows yard sticks, meters, kilogram measures or seconds.  In my experience that is where the weirdness begins.

I don’t feel the passage of time naturally.  A clock does it for me but with out one I have no sense of time what so ever, unless I am smoking, tobacco.  Yes, I know it is bad for me.  Its been like that since my breakdown.  Maybe it was different in the respect of feeling times passage pre-breakdown but I have no point of reference, after all it was a long time ago.

I know this sounds crazy.

Really it came home to me after my fathers passing, when the ancient photos of a life so foreign to me came  back out into the world.  I knew the people in the photographs and yet I didn’t know them.  They were like a glimpse into a world that never existed even though I was pretty sure they had.

Over these many years with my strange occasional bouts of melancholy as though something had been lost, a thing that could never be regained, I found myself wondering as to the very nature of that thing.  After The old man’s death, when I became the old man, that sense had become exquisite ad sweet like some exotic food or strained alien mental sensation.

I wondered if I too was dead.

Would I know if I were?

Have my last many years of life been like that of the butterfly, just a day or a few hours as death was in the process of taking me?  I don’t think I would know the difference.  We have such definite ideas about the world but all of them are based on the measurement of our perceptions.

I find my self perplexed by the idea that these many years may be nothing more than phantasms of my dying brain.  My wife and friends and all these efforts to express my thoughts and even my brothers all figments of a sequence of neurons firing in those last few minutes while I lay in a hospital at the age of ten dying.

Does any of this really matter?

I think not.

Look for your Muse.  Only she can be your guide.

The Internet Tarot Weather Dude’s Alien (ET) Invasion Forecast

I’m having fun with this and I hope anyone reading enjoys as well.

Region:  The Globe

Date(s):  The 5th of August through the 5th of September, 2017

Deck:  Renaissance

Cards Drawn:  The Hermit (9 Major Arcana, inverse) and 3 of coins (inverse)

Forecast:  August is a excellent month for sky watching, especially this August with the solar eclipse due to occur.  The date escapes me at this point, I want to say the 12th but my memory being what it is the date could just as well be the 21st.  If anyone is interested, I’m sure the actual date should be easy to find.  Either way I hope to see it with Meta.  There are the annual meteor showers, conditions permitting, if you are far enough away from the city lights.  I will probably miss it this year as I am currently town bound.

For any curious sky watchers with an eye towards aerial phenomena the Hermit indicates that being away from people, cities and towns or any other source of light pollution should prove interesting.  Odds are that any lights in the sky are of earthly origin as the three of coins leads me to assume, but you never know.  On a clear night in the proper conditions you might be able to spot the space station with the naked eye.  I had that pleasure myself years ago at a campground in Michigan called Sleeping Bear Dunes.  Really any campground with a clear view of the sky should do.

As far as alien invasions go, Unlikely.  So feel free to enjoy this August with out feeling the need to lay in supplies to survive the terror from deep space.

Have a better than average day.

don’t forget to count your blessings this midsummer’s eve.

The Internet Tarot Weather Dude

Region:  Northwestern Ohio, North Central Ohio, Northeastern Ohio and Northwestern Pennsylvania.

Date(s):  Saturday the 29th, Sunday the 30th and Monday the 31st of July, 2017.

Deck:  The Hermetic Tarot

Cards Drawn:  Fortitude (8 Major Arcana), 10 of cups (inverse), Ace of Pentacles (inverse), 6 of Cups (inverse), 10 of wands (inverse) and 6 of pentacles (inverse).

Forecast:  I am having a hard time figuring the Trump, Fortitude, in this reading as the other cards indicate favorable weather for Saturday and Sunday, if you like dry and cool.   Look for skies to vary from sunny to partly Sunny with mostly to partly sunny skies over the extreme Northeastern area.  Temperatures should be between the lower 70s in the extreme eastern regions (72 – 75) and the mid 70s elsewhere (75 – 78) with skies from sunny to mostly sunny.  Winds through out the region should be generally north to North East but not earth shattering in their speed (from 5 – 20 mph).  Lows through out these two days should hover in the mid to low 60s (61 -65).  Nice days for outdoor activities.

Monday warmer temps should be expected but still below average with highs around or slightly better than 80 (79 – 83) and growing cloud cover with skies from mostly sunny to partly cloudy.  I am of the impression that there is a slight chance of rain (20% – 30%).  No severe weather should be expected at this time.  I would figure that there will be less then a tenth of an inch in any case where rain manifests.  Winds should start to settle down to about 5 mph and take a generally easterly direction.

Expect the heat to come back as the dog days have a ways to go yet.

Always keep an eye on your muse.

Have a better than average day.