Thursday, November 22, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Mt. Belford
Finally got my computer to stop giving me grief!
Wanker pics are here, click the pic above for the serious ones.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
FR379
I've been contemplating selling the Truckie - my 1984 Toyota LandCruiser FJ60. I decided that the best way to advertise this awesome piece of Japanese engineering (NO sarcasm here - this truck ROCKS!!!) was to go get it dirty and take pictures of it in action.
We loaded up our goofy dog (he's talking to us here when we asked his if he wanted to go for a ride) and packed some lunch and headed for the hills.
First, we went up Gold Camp Road and ended up going through Bear Creek Park - some neat views there, none of which we remembered to take pictures of, but it was fun.
Then, we headed into Broadmoor and up Old Stage Road, where I knew there were some good jeep tracks.
It didn't take us long to find some killer trail, and I had Truckie in four and rarin' to go. The first obstacle was some washed out roads - light sand, very loose terrain and kind of a pain - except that I have some very good all-terrain tires and locking hubs, solid axles and four-low. First obstacle? No problem.
Notice the flex, how deep the tires reach and then think about this: this is the STOCK suspension. The clearance and amazing abilities of the LandCruiser frame would prove themselves several times during the drive.
This is amazing. No lift, nothing special. Stock 4x4. This truck will crawl a wall in four-low and not even break a sweat. It's straight-six engine is a dog on the highway - I'll be the first to admit that, but get into a four-wheeling situation, throw it into low and watch out! Torque is where it's at in this kind of situation and Truckie's got it! It handled trail other rigs couldn't, and we even stopped and helped get a Land Rover (cheap wannabe, if you ask me) out of a rough stick.
Here's the whole album - some nice scenery shots in there. This was a really fun afternoon, and all it cost was some fun and 1/4 tank of gas. And I got to embarrass a Land Rover driver with my old-ass Truckie!!!
We loaded up our goofy dog (he's talking to us here when we asked his if he wanted to go for a ride) and packed some lunch and headed for the hills.First, we went up Gold Camp Road and ended up going through Bear Creek Park - some neat views there, none of which we remembered to take pictures of, but it was fun.
Then, we headed into Broadmoor and up Old Stage Road, where I knew there were some good jeep tracks.
It didn't take us long to find some killer trail, and I had Truckie in four and rarin' to go. The first obstacle was some washed out roads - light sand, very loose terrain and kind of a pain - except that I have some very good all-terrain tires and locking hubs, solid axles and four-low. First obstacle? No problem. Notice the flex, how deep the tires reach and then think about this: this is the STOCK suspension. The clearance and amazing abilities of the LandCruiser frame would prove themselves several times during the drive.
This is amazing. No lift, nothing special. Stock 4x4. This truck will crawl a wall in four-low and not even break a sweat. It's straight-six engine is a dog on the highway - I'll be the first to admit that, but get into a four-wheeling situation, throw it into low and watch out! Torque is where it's at in this kind of situation and Truckie's got it! It handled trail other rigs couldn't, and we even stopped and helped get a Land Rover (cheap wannabe, if you ask me) out of a rough stick.
Here's the whole album - some nice scenery shots in there. This was a really fun afternoon, and all it cost was some fun and 1/4 tank of gas. And I got to embarrass a Land Rover driver with my old-ass Truckie!!!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Non-Techs
inhabited the tunnels and spaces deep in the bowels of the shining city above their heads. They provided the services robots weren't able to. Sewage techs. Toxic waste disposal specialists. Anything the ruling class of net-addicted "light bulbs" were too busy, distracted or dainty to do, and robots could not due to the hazardous atmospheric conditions. It turned out, as technology progressed, that there were certain things only a human could manage and survive. Go figure.
The Non-techs were not Luds. They were the remains of a society that grew silicon light-tubes into the very fetuses of it's children as they developed -- more often in a lab than in their mother's stomachs. The tubes infiltrated every portion of the infant's brain. There were literally hundreds of thousands of filaments in the brain of every Techie who walked the passageways in the the shining world above.
But here, here were the Nons. Those whose unborn bodies rejected the intrusion. Whose brains were, for whatever reason, unable to connect to the Net, even though the implant of light-tech took. Those who found they could not handle, mentally or emotionally, the nightly flood of information that Mother Net poured into their brains. The rejects. Doomed to the depths of the city. Outcasts, merely afterthoughts in the minds of the Techies above them, a necessary annoyance to Mother. They lived. They had spaces, down there, their own rudimentary self-government, which answered to the Net, schools, children who ran, laughing and playing. And they waited.
They knew the "Heads" were leaving. They knew that the orgiastic spewing of chemical waste into an already destroyed atmosphere would stop once the society was finished hurtling itself into space, searching for other planets to rape. They knew that the meek would, indeed, inherit the Earth, and that they could then begin the process of healing the planet humanity had put so much misdirected effort into destroying. And they would live unmolested, and would learn from the mistakes that Techs had made - mistakes so grave that they had soiled their own nest, and were "forced" to find other planets to colonize.
Jackson knew that it was only a matter of time before the heads were gone and the Nons could move to the upper levels and begin cleaning up the mess society had made of the planet, but that did not stop him from chafing at the way society treated him and his people simply because their bodies could not accept the silicon embrace of Mother Net. Second class citizenship was not his idea of how to live, but he had to admit, it was better than being a non-entity like the Luds. They were living, if you could call it that, outside the walls, in the blasted artifacts of the technological civilization that had both destroyed the planet and enabled escape because they chose to - they and those who had gone before them had rebelled against the technological advances - the had not only refused the infraskulls for themselves and for their children and actually left the enclaves. Left the cities. The only hope for humanity was the cities. Even the Nons knew that. Instead, the Luds chose to crawl through the ruined, blasted surface of the planet, irradiated, foraging for food, stealing what they could, fighting border skirmishes with the Heads over every inch of ground, every piece of scrap likely to be useful for recycling into a tool or a gun.
they scrape just to exist Jackson thought. We live, we work, it's poor, pitiful work, but at least we have something. At least we have a place to lay our heads without being shot at.
The Non-techs were not Luds. They were the remains of a society that grew silicon light-tubes into the very fetuses of it's children as they developed -- more often in a lab than in their mother's stomachs. The tubes infiltrated every portion of the infant's brain. There were literally hundreds of thousands of filaments in the brain of every Techie who walked the passageways in the the shining world above.
But here, here were the Nons. Those whose unborn bodies rejected the intrusion. Whose brains were, for whatever reason, unable to connect to the Net, even though the implant of light-tech took. Those who found they could not handle, mentally or emotionally, the nightly flood of information that Mother Net poured into their brains. The rejects. Doomed to the depths of the city. Outcasts, merely afterthoughts in the minds of the Techies above them, a necessary annoyance to Mother. They lived. They had spaces, down there, their own rudimentary self-government, which answered to the Net, schools, children who ran, laughing and playing. And they waited.
They knew the "Heads" were leaving. They knew that the orgiastic spewing of chemical waste into an already destroyed atmosphere would stop once the society was finished hurtling itself into space, searching for other planets to rape. They knew that the meek would, indeed, inherit the Earth, and that they could then begin the process of healing the planet humanity had put so much misdirected effort into destroying. And they would live unmolested, and would learn from the mistakes that Techs had made - mistakes so grave that they had soiled their own nest, and were "forced" to find other planets to colonize.
Jackson knew that it was only a matter of time before the heads were gone and the Nons could move to the upper levels and begin cleaning up the mess society had made of the planet, but that did not stop him from chafing at the way society treated him and his people simply because their bodies could not accept the silicon embrace of Mother Net. Second class citizenship was not his idea of how to live, but he had to admit, it was better than being a non-entity like the Luds. They were living, if you could call it that, outside the walls, in the blasted artifacts of the technological civilization that had both destroyed the planet and enabled escape because they chose to - they and those who had gone before them had rebelled against the technological advances - the had not only refused the infraskulls for themselves and for their children and actually left the enclaves. Left the cities. The only hope for humanity was the cities. Even the Nons knew that. Instead, the Luds chose to crawl through the ruined, blasted surface of the planet, irradiated, foraging for food, stealing what they could, fighting border skirmishes with the Heads over every inch of ground, every piece of scrap likely to be useful for recycling into a tool or a gun.
they scrape just to exist Jackson thought. We live, we work, it's poor, pitiful work, but at least we have something. At least we have a place to lay our heads without being shot at.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Awakening
Morning was never really Tamar's favorite time. Leaving the wonders of his night time paradise was always difficult, but even here, in the city, readying to travel off-world, he was required to maintain a physical schedule of some sort. He always felt like it would be so much simpler just to stay jacked in - just to keep traveling the byways of the Net, keep "riding the light."
Slowly but surely, Tamar began to surface from last night's vivid network-inspired dreams. Jacking in every night allowed the network to tap unused portions of the brain for processing. On any night, or day for that matter, as there were really no shifts determined by something as ethereal (or generally invisible in all the smog and pollution) as sunlight. Different sections of the populace walked the corridors and streets of the city on different shifts,that was all. So, on any given shift, at least one third of Gaspar City's 12-million residents were jacked in - their fiber optic infraskulls glowing through their scalps, eyes spinning in the depths of REM sleep while Mother Network gave them sweet dreams and used their brains as a kind of living RAM drive. It gave the network virtually limitless processing speed and memory - the only limitation was the speed of light its self.
As his consciousness raised through the layers of awareness the Net guided him through to waking, Tamar began to recall bits of what he'd been dreaming. It was often this way - one of the side-effects of the spending nights in the Net was that the sleeper came away with vivid dreams, often related to the bits of data their synapses has been processing. If one chose, Net could wipe the memories away, but Tamar had always enjoyed knowing - remembering. It gave him a sense that he had control, in some way, of the Net's use of his brain.
Suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings. No more floating, Net had returned physical feeling - he was, for all intents and purposes, awake. Quickly he queried the Network, searching for news of any occurrences during his sleep shift that might delay his launch, scheduled for two weeks from today. All seemed quiet, although there was a report of movement in the ruins about six kilometers from the city. Interesting that anything could survive out there, but the Luds did, and they seemed to be making some kind of organized attempt to rebuild old cities across the blasted face of the planet.
Good luck with that, Tamar thought to himself. This planet is wasted. Even the cockroaches seems to be trying to escape. I'll take my chances on a colonization ship.
Tamar was one of several million applicants set to be blasted off the rock and rubble that was all that remained of Earth, launched into the stars to find habitable worlds elsewhere. With the advent of light drive, journeys took months instead of years, and there were already three New-Earth colonies on habitable worlds in this sector.
Selection for colonization was easy- there were only three requirements: Network-capability (the massive colony ships relied on the brains of their passengers to perform the necessary calculations for Faster-Than-Light drive), genetic clarity going back at least three generations (no congenitals, no mutations - this requirement was a tough one in some regions of the planet. NukeWar ensured a lot of mutations) and the willingness to enlist. All personnel colonizing off-world did so as members of the Earth Force Alliance, the only form of government that survived the NukeWar - military government.
Slipping his uniform jumpsuit on to his light frame, Sergeant Tamar Lucius Dammin decided he'd struggle through one more day of phys-life, if only to return to the Net and its wonders at the end of his duty shift.
He strapped on his flechette gun and body armor, readying himself for yet another tedious shift at the Wall.
Slowly but surely, Tamar began to surface from last night's vivid network-inspired dreams. Jacking in every night allowed the network to tap unused portions of the brain for processing. On any night, or day for that matter, as there were really no shifts determined by something as ethereal (or generally invisible in all the smog and pollution) as sunlight. Different sections of the populace walked the corridors and streets of the city on different shifts,that was all. So, on any given shift, at least one third of Gaspar City's 12-million residents were jacked in - their fiber optic infraskulls glowing through their scalps, eyes spinning in the depths of REM sleep while Mother Network gave them sweet dreams and used their brains as a kind of living RAM drive. It gave the network virtually limitless processing speed and memory - the only limitation was the speed of light its self.
As his consciousness raised through the layers of awareness the Net guided him through to waking, Tamar began to recall bits of what he'd been dreaming. It was often this way - one of the side-effects of the spending nights in the Net was that the sleeper came away with vivid dreams, often related to the bits of data their synapses has been processing. If one chose, Net could wipe the memories away, but Tamar had always enjoyed knowing - remembering. It gave him a sense that he had control, in some way, of the Net's use of his brain.
Suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings. No more floating, Net had returned physical feeling - he was, for all intents and purposes, awake. Quickly he queried the Network, searching for news of any occurrences during his sleep shift that might delay his launch, scheduled for two weeks from today. All seemed quiet, although there was a report of movement in the ruins about six kilometers from the city. Interesting that anything could survive out there, but the Luds did, and they seemed to be making some kind of organized attempt to rebuild old cities across the blasted face of the planet.
Good luck with that, Tamar thought to himself. This planet is wasted. Even the cockroaches seems to be trying to escape. I'll take my chances on a colonization ship.
Tamar was one of several million applicants set to be blasted off the rock and rubble that was all that remained of Earth, launched into the stars to find habitable worlds elsewhere. With the advent of light drive, journeys took months instead of years, and there were already three New-Earth colonies on habitable worlds in this sector.
Selection for colonization was easy- there were only three requirements: Network-capability (the massive colony ships relied on the brains of their passengers to perform the necessary calculations for Faster-Than-Light drive), genetic clarity going back at least three generations (no congenitals, no mutations - this requirement was a tough one in some regions of the planet. NukeWar ensured a lot of mutations) and the willingness to enlist. All personnel colonizing off-world did so as members of the Earth Force Alliance, the only form of government that survived the NukeWar - military government.
Slipping his uniform jumpsuit on to his light frame, Sergeant Tamar Lucius Dammin decided he'd struggle through one more day of phys-life, if only to return to the Net and its wonders at the end of his duty shift.
He strapped on his flechette gun and body armor, readying himself for yet another tedious shift at the Wall.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
It all began in 2007
when scientists in Germany figured out how to control a living organism using light. Neurobiologists, neuropsychiatrists, scientists, doctors - they all jumped on the bandwagon this amazing breakthrough promised for the future.
They didn't consider other uses, though - at least not back then. They thought grand thoughts and dreamed grandiose dreams of curing Parkinson's and restoring the use of limbs whithered by brain-damaging illnesses such as spina bifida or polio. They thought about how they could "fix" bodies bent and twisted by the whims of an indifferent God; how they, indeed, could become gods in their own right, meting out physical repairs to financially viable customers.
They didn't think about what this new technology implied. What could be done with it. Where it might lead. They did not see what was about to become. And for that, they lost everything; this shining future was ignored because of their arrogance. Instead of a utopia of perfectly healthy bodies strolling across the planet, grooving the greed of the corporate insurance machine, the HMOs and the mega-hospitals, instead of having the chance to have a positive influence on the future of humanity, instead, they opened the lid of Pandora's Box and unleashed something entirely different, and more devastating than the diseases they initially desired to conquer.
Evan reached into his duffel, digging amongst the empty magazines, bits of metal he'd found on his foray into the old part of the city and a few pieces of camo-cloth for the little bundle of jerked rabbit he'd hidden there. There were no feeders around, at least that he could see, and he needed a boost for the next part of his journey.
Perched as he was on the barely standing cornice of a blasted apartment block, Evan had an almost 360-degree view of the sprawling, devastated and crumbling remains of the city. The remains of skyscrapers still clawed their way toward the sky here and there, backlit by the lights of the megalopolis, the wall visible even from here, hundreds of blocks away from where the New City started. Black clouds scudded across the sky, glowing from the lights of the fortress city below, seeming to snag and be caught by the barren branches of the old skyscrapers, their now glassless, spindly trunks winding their way up into the bruised atmosphere.
Evan could see the layers of exhaust gasses from this vantage point - yellow sulfur clouds creeping through the valleys the streets had become, oozing over the hills formed by the slumping hulks of buildings that once populated a thriving city.
No feeders, no lurchers, no gnashers were visible. A break. A respite. A little tiny piece of quiet. For now.
Gnawing on his jerky, Evan wondered again what it was like inside the megalopolis. He stared at its silver facades, bright and steely, with stacks behind the glowing walls belching forth the crud that Evan and his fellow grubs were forced to breathe and call air. Occasionally, an observer could see the trails of launches from further back in the city - shuttles carrying this doomed world's privileged to live in the space stations, or even to go on the great transports which were even now plodding their way toward distant stars.
Go,thought Evan. Leave. Let us, us HUMANS fix the mess you made. We can. We will.
Evan and a few of the youngers like him thought this way. Good riddance to the "Society". Let them blast their way off the Earth. Leave. They'd done enough damage anyway. Leave the Earth to the people, the Remnants who weren't rich enough or subservient enough to make it into the City.
They didn't consider other uses, though - at least not back then. They thought grand thoughts and dreamed grandiose dreams of curing Parkinson's and restoring the use of limbs whithered by brain-damaging illnesses such as spina bifida or polio. They thought about how they could "fix" bodies bent and twisted by the whims of an indifferent God; how they, indeed, could become gods in their own right, meting out physical repairs to financially viable customers.
They didn't think about what this new technology implied. What could be done with it. Where it might lead. They did not see what was about to become. And for that, they lost everything; this shining future was ignored because of their arrogance. Instead of a utopia of perfectly healthy bodies strolling across the planet, grooving the greed of the corporate insurance machine, the HMOs and the mega-hospitals, instead of having the chance to have a positive influence on the future of humanity, instead, they opened the lid of Pandora's Box and unleashed something entirely different, and more devastating than the diseases they initially desired to conquer.
Evan reached into his duffel, digging amongst the empty magazines, bits of metal he'd found on his foray into the old part of the city and a few pieces of camo-cloth for the little bundle of jerked rabbit he'd hidden there. There were no feeders around, at least that he could see, and he needed a boost for the next part of his journey.
Perched as he was on the barely standing cornice of a blasted apartment block, Evan had an almost 360-degree view of the sprawling, devastated and crumbling remains of the city. The remains of skyscrapers still clawed their way toward the sky here and there, backlit by the lights of the megalopolis, the wall visible even from here, hundreds of blocks away from where the New City started. Black clouds scudded across the sky, glowing from the lights of the fortress city below, seeming to snag and be caught by the barren branches of the old skyscrapers, their now glassless, spindly trunks winding their way up into the bruised atmosphere.
Evan could see the layers of exhaust gasses from this vantage point - yellow sulfur clouds creeping through the valleys the streets had become, oozing over the hills formed by the slumping hulks of buildings that once populated a thriving city.
No feeders, no lurchers, no gnashers were visible. A break. A respite. A little tiny piece of quiet. For now.
Gnawing on his jerky, Evan wondered again what it was like inside the megalopolis. He stared at its silver facades, bright and steely, with stacks behind the glowing walls belching forth the crud that Evan and his fellow grubs were forced to breathe and call air. Occasionally, an observer could see the trails of launches from further back in the city - shuttles carrying this doomed world's privileged to live in the space stations, or even to go on the great transports which were even now plodding their way toward distant stars.
Go,thought Evan. Leave. Let us, us HUMANS fix the mess you made. We can. We will.
Evan and a few of the youngers like him thought this way. Good riddance to the "Society". Let them blast their way off the Earth. Leave. They'd done enough damage anyway. Leave the Earth to the people, the Remnants who weren't rich enough or subservient enough to make it into the City.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Back in 80916
And DAMN! It's freakin' 90?!!?!?!
At least, in Alaska, a HOT day is, like, 72 and the trout are biting!
We missed you wankers, but not enough to go Hash with you today. We were on a plane all night - I got 2 hours sleep, the wife got none. Naps were the rule today. We have to go shopping and refill the fridge in the morning (shudder).
At least, in Alaska, a HOT day is, like, 72 and the trout are biting!
We missed you wankers, but not enough to go Hash with you today. We were on a plane all night - I got 2 hours sleep, the wife got none. Naps were the rule today. We have to go shopping and refill the fridge in the morning (shudder).
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Monday
Even on a cloudy, drizzly day, Alaska is gorgeous. This is near the salmon-slaying spot Dad and I went to Monday to pit our intellects against the wily wild salmon of the North.
Vistas like this were the rule of the day. We had a few thin spots in the clouds, not any real sunshine, but with the canopy on the boat and the salmon biting (occasionally), we were plenty warm.
This little cove was full of coho getting ready to run up the creek beyond this neat little outcropping. We caught two of the four silvers of the day here.
This outcrop was at the mouth of the creek. All the views were amazing. I couldn't take enough pictures to do it justice.
The results of a day of beauty and fun in the Prince William Sound?
Dad and me - 8; Salmon - 0
Four Chinook (our limit), three coho and a sockeye.
The smoker is going RIGHT NOW!!!!!
Friday
Monkey Boy, nephew and I went canoing through the lake, and were forced to see things like this Grebe on her nest. It was a rough day ...
We portaged to another lake and fished there as well. The boys rowed very well, but it still took four of their strokes to my one, so I had my hands full keeping the boat going in the right direction.
The Monkey Boy set the tone of the day by catching the first fish. Both the nephew and I caught one as well, but this 21 1/4 inch rainbow (about four pounds!!!) is a trout of a lifetime.
He didn't really clean it, though. That task fell to me. You know that a rainbow trout big enough to fillet is BIG.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I read the fising report in the local paper today
The kings will be in this weekend.
If you're not Alaskan, you're not very familiar with what that means; the kings hitting means that the most awesome game fish on the planet is starting to spawn, and crashes stream beds throughout British Columbia and Alaska. Once upon a time, they did this all through the West coast, including California. Now, the greatest salmon runs in the world are here in Alaska and in Russia.
This also means that I will be killing salmon by Friday!
My aunt called to report that she'd just landed a 40-pounder on the Deshka this morning.
I kinda hate her right now, as I have yet to get a fly wet, but I will be out there fishing in no time!
If you're not Alaskan, you're not very familiar with what that means; the kings hitting means that the most awesome game fish on the planet is starting to spawn, and crashes stream beds throughout British Columbia and Alaska. Once upon a time, they did this all through the West coast, including California. Now, the greatest salmon runs in the world are here in Alaska and in Russia.
This also means that I will be killing salmon by Friday!
My aunt called to report that she'd just landed a 40-pounder on the Deshka this morning.
I kinda hate her right now, as I have yet to get a fly wet, but I will be out there fishing in no time!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Home sweet home
Well, we made it to Anchorage just fine, and I spent my first day back home demolishing a pony wall and re-tiling the end of a counter so that Mom's new refrigerator would fit. Not a bad day's work, if I do say so my self.
I don't think I have a specific project to do today, but I will sick the kids on some weeds in the flower beds.
I got to go for a nice run in the rain yesterday morning. About six miles - the air is THICK here at a whopping 140 ft. of altitude. I kept trying to figure out why I wasn't getting tired.
No fish slaying yet. We head out to the lake house on Wednesday, so I will be able to begin my systematic attack on the trout of Alaska at that point.
I don't think I have a specific project to do today, but I will sick the kids on some weeds in the flower beds.
I got to go for a nice run in the rain yesterday morning. About six miles - the air is THICK here at a whopping 140 ft. of altitude. I kept trying to figure out why I wasn't getting tired.
No fish slaying yet. We head out to the lake house on Wednesday, so I will be able to begin my systematic attack on the trout of Alaska at that point.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Last post?
It's finally starting to sink in. I mean, the magnitude of it. My family. Gone. My command. Gone. Soldiers. Sailors. Airmen. Marines. The whole base was wiped out. Not only that, but most of the city is burning - a shambles. No police left. No people left. Just zombies.
I made it to a Wal-Mart. Managed to make it back out to my truck after getting myself together in the house. I thought about it; why did I kill that damn dog? I guess I just couldn't take the risk of him turning. After all, my son had obvious ... zombie bites on him. I guess I really couldn't face the thought of the dog turning, too.
So, the weed-eater with the saw-blade on it? Excellent weapon, right up until it burned out. That little 1.5 hp motor just wasn't made for that kind of torque, but it did pretty well. I managed to behead three zombies with it before it crapped out and I had to switch to the machete. I finally made it to the truck by hacking my way through four more. I guess the neighbors were home. Just ... changed.
I threw the truck into 4 right off. I knew there'd be trouble just getting off the base - they locked it down this morning. I crashed a fence and went through a stream-bed to get out, and turned West into town. Wal-Mart means supplies. And maybe other survivors.
I loved that dog.
The Wal-Mart was surrounded. Absolutely surrounded. How all these stinking corpsicles got here is beyond me, but I took it as a sign that there might be other survivors in there. Now I just had to get in.
I decided my best bet was to try to lure the zombies away from the side entrance - you know, the garden one. I could get them to follow me in my truck, maybe mow down a few of them and then pull alongside the fence with the wheel tied off and the truck still in gear. Climb on top and then jump to the fence. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Only problem was, I managed to spear my left arm on the top of the fence. Nearly peeled all the muscle of my forearm away. Good thing there was a pharmacy in here.
I made it over the fence, anyway, blood pouring down my arm and my truck careening off into the parking lot, squashing zombies all the way across it and into a berm. It died once it stopped there - it'll still run if I can make it back out to it. Something I might be able to use later.
I started banging on the door - it was closed, but I could see people moving inside.
I yelled that I was alive and they finally pulled the door back to let me in. There are six of us here now. Two store employees, a Soldier from the Army base down South, a soccer mom who is in a catatonic state, some skate punk kid and me. Soldier helped patch my arm up. Did a pretty good job.
Well, we have food, drugs and ammo. Power's still up, but it's been flickering. I don't know how much longer I can keep communicating. Maybe someone will find my blog and know what went on here, but I don't think there's much of anyone still alive out there.
Later ...
We have voted. We're arming up now, loading a trailer with food and ammo, first aid kits, tents, everything we need. We're going to try to fight our way out, jump in the truck, back up to the entrance and hook up. Then we'll see if we can't make it into the mountains. Soldier has a cabin up at Green Lake. We'll see if we can't set up house there. Fortify. Build zombie traps. Hunt for food. I doubt I'll get to leave any more blogs. If you read this, and are looking for us, we're at mile 56. Just head West into the mountains. Make sure you make noise when you come - talk, whistle, sing, play the radio. We'll aim for the head otherwise.
Damn I miss that dog.
I made it to a Wal-Mart. Managed to make it back out to my truck after getting myself together in the house. I thought about it; why did I kill that damn dog? I guess I just couldn't take the risk of him turning. After all, my son had obvious ... zombie bites on him. I guess I really couldn't face the thought of the dog turning, too.
So, the weed-eater with the saw-blade on it? Excellent weapon, right up until it burned out. That little 1.5 hp motor just wasn't made for that kind of torque, but it did pretty well. I managed to behead three zombies with it before it crapped out and I had to switch to the machete. I finally made it to the truck by hacking my way through four more. I guess the neighbors were home. Just ... changed.
I threw the truck into 4 right off. I knew there'd be trouble just getting off the base - they locked it down this morning. I crashed a fence and went through a stream-bed to get out, and turned West into town. Wal-Mart means supplies. And maybe other survivors.
I loved that dog.
The Wal-Mart was surrounded. Absolutely surrounded. How all these stinking corpsicles got here is beyond me, but I took it as a sign that there might be other survivors in there. Now I just had to get in.
I decided my best bet was to try to lure the zombies away from the side entrance - you know, the garden one. I could get them to follow me in my truck, maybe mow down a few of them and then pull alongside the fence with the wheel tied off and the truck still in gear. Climb on top and then jump to the fence. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Only problem was, I managed to spear my left arm on the top of the fence. Nearly peeled all the muscle of my forearm away. Good thing there was a pharmacy in here.
I made it over the fence, anyway, blood pouring down my arm and my truck careening off into the parking lot, squashing zombies all the way across it and into a berm. It died once it stopped there - it'll still run if I can make it back out to it. Something I might be able to use later.
I started banging on the door - it was closed, but I could see people moving inside.
I yelled that I was alive and they finally pulled the door back to let me in. There are six of us here now. Two store employees, a Soldier from the Army base down South, a soccer mom who is in a catatonic state, some skate punk kid and me. Soldier helped patch my arm up. Did a pretty good job.
Well, we have food, drugs and ammo. Power's still up, but it's been flickering. I don't know how much longer I can keep communicating. Maybe someone will find my blog and know what went on here, but I don't think there's much of anyone still alive out there.
Later ...
We have voted. We're arming up now, loading a trailer with food and ammo, first aid kits, tents, everything we need. We're going to try to fight our way out, jump in the truck, back up to the entrance and hook up. Then we'll see if we can't make it into the mountains. Soldier has a cabin up at Green Lake. We'll see if we can't set up house there. Fortify. Build zombie traps. Hunt for food. I doubt I'll get to leave any more blogs. If you read this, and are looking for us, we're at mile 56. Just head West into the mountains. Make sure you make noise when you come - talk, whistle, sing, play the radio. We'll aim for the head otherwise.
Damn I miss that dog.
Home
The fight to get here seriously sucked.
I had a golf club, and I made it to my car with only five or six zombies attacking me. I clobbered the first one good - his brains and other gunk splattered everywhere with a good overhand blow. It smelled like hell, but I grabbed a few handfuls of gray matter and smeared them all over my chest just on the off-chance that their blood-smell would keep me safe.
It worked, sort of.
After the first one, I noticed a small group ambling toward me and started to run. If I hadn't been wearing stupid dress shoes, I would have made it. I blew out the lace on my left shoe and went sprawling. By the time I was back up and found my golf club, the first zombie was there. I just gritted my teeth and started swinging. I really, really have no use for golf, but the clubs work great as weapons. Maybe, once this all blows over, I'll invest in a set.
Made it to the car. No zombies around, but again, I could see a handful in the distance. Good thing the base is so rural.
I decided not to try for the armory. Better off getting home and then raiding a Wal-Mart or something.
The neighborhood was deserted, although most every car was still in the driveway. This is fucking creepy.
I went up to the house quietly, peering into the windows, hoping.
Shit. I opened the door, and no one was here. The damn dog just looked at me funny, sniffed the zombie effluent which I was covered with and went out the back door. I followed him. He was eating what was left of my son. I buried them both after I killed the dog with the golf club. Don't know where my wife and daughter are. I am afraid they were who killed the boy, though. His corpse had bites that were obviously NOT from the dog.
I loved that dog, too.
I found my machete, grabbed a shovel and I added a cutting blade to my little gas-powered weed eater. Decided I better see if I can get some supplies and maybe find some other survivors. I can hear sirens a few miles off - maybe, since this is a base, there are a few hearty souls still making a stand. I can't believe I'm not crying, not freaking out. I just buried my son. My wife and daughter are missing. And I killed my dog.
Fuck.
I really loved that dog.
I'll try to post more if I make it through to somewhere safe. I have my wife's laptop with me now.
I had a golf club, and I made it to my car with only five or six zombies attacking me. I clobbered the first one good - his brains and other gunk splattered everywhere with a good overhand blow. It smelled like hell, but I grabbed a few handfuls of gray matter and smeared them all over my chest just on the off-chance that their blood-smell would keep me safe.
It worked, sort of.
After the first one, I noticed a small group ambling toward me and started to run. If I hadn't been wearing stupid dress shoes, I would have made it. I blew out the lace on my left shoe and went sprawling. By the time I was back up and found my golf club, the first zombie was there. I just gritted my teeth and started swinging. I really, really have no use for golf, but the clubs work great as weapons. Maybe, once this all blows over, I'll invest in a set.
Made it to the car. No zombies around, but again, I could see a handful in the distance. Good thing the base is so rural.
I decided not to try for the armory. Better off getting home and then raiding a Wal-Mart or something.
The neighborhood was deserted, although most every car was still in the driveway. This is fucking creepy.
I went up to the house quietly, peering into the windows, hoping.
Shit. I opened the door, and no one was here. The damn dog just looked at me funny, sniffed the zombie effluent which I was covered with and went out the back door. I followed him. He was eating what was left of my son. I buried them both after I killed the dog with the golf club. Don't know where my wife and daughter are. I am afraid they were who killed the boy, though. His corpse had bites that were obviously NOT from the dog.
I loved that dog, too.
I found my machete, grabbed a shovel and I added a cutting blade to my little gas-powered weed eater. Decided I better see if I can get some supplies and maybe find some other survivors. I can hear sirens a few miles off - maybe, since this is a base, there are a few hearty souls still making a stand. I can't believe I'm not crying, not freaking out. I just buried my son. My wife and daughter are missing. And I killed my dog.
Fuck.
I really loved that dog.
I'll try to post more if I make it through to somewhere safe. I have my wife's laptop with me now.
This isn't over ...
The Government is just about gone. That's official. I work at homeland defense headquarters for the military and I am telling you, this is something no one was prepared for.
The guards have abandoned their posts. I am about to try and make a run for home. At least I know I have a machete and a few shovels there. I can fight my way through the throng and get some supplies in town before heading for the mountains and safety (I hope).
The command center is pretty much empty. Someone who had already been bitten made it inside the building. They infected most of the rest of the people in the building and everyone who wasn't infected bailed. I am only here because I had the foresight to lock myself into the office. Phone lines are down, the building is operating on backup power alone and we're lucky that we rely on our own satellite uplink to the Internet or I'd have no communications with the outside world.
I have e-mailed buddies in bases across the U.S. and a few in other countries. This thing is world wide.
I'll try to log back in once I get home and share what I've seen. It's only a few miles from here and it's fairly rural, so, hopefully, there won't be too many zombies around. My sources in Europe say they don't seem to notice you if you're covered in their blood, so I'll try to whack a couple of them with this golf club I found while I'm on my way - should create enough gore to get myself smelly.
Cross your fingers and pray for me!
The guards have abandoned their posts. I am about to try and make a run for home. At least I know I have a machete and a few shovels there. I can fight my way through the throng and get some supplies in town before heading for the mountains and safety (I hope).
The command center is pretty much empty. Someone who had already been bitten made it inside the building. They infected most of the rest of the people in the building and everyone who wasn't infected bailed. I am only here because I had the foresight to lock myself into the office. Phone lines are down, the building is operating on backup power alone and we're lucky that we rely on our own satellite uplink to the Internet or I'd have no communications with the outside world.
I have e-mailed buddies in bases across the U.S. and a few in other countries. This thing is world wide.
I'll try to log back in once I get home and share what I've seen. It's only a few miles from here and it's fairly rural, so, hopefully, there won't be too many zombies around. My sources in Europe say they don't seem to notice you if you're covered in their blood, so I'll try to whack a couple of them with this golf club I found while I'm on my way - should create enough gore to get myself smelly.
Cross your fingers and pray for me!
More from official sources
Man, I am about ready to get the fuck out of here. The armed guards seem to be letting people sneak out in ones or twos - but only the civilians here at the command. I think I still have a set of civvies in the office somewhere. I gotta get home and check on my family. The phones are down so I don't know how they're doing at all.
I think I have a better chance of surviving this if I can get some guns and get up into the mountains, even though it goes against official advice. Speaking of which, here's the latest from DHS:
Press Office
U.S. Department of Homeland Security
Press Release
June 13, 2007
2:45 PM EST
Contact: DHS Press Office, 2021234567
Officials advise survivors to shelter in place
WASHINGTON, D.C. -- In the aftermath of last night's meteor storm and the viral pandemic which immediately ensued, state, local and federal officials are advising unaffected survivors to shelter in place rather than trying to escape or gather together en mass.
According to Centers for Disease Control officials, those who were not infected by the virus during the shower can now only be infected by being bitten by these walking wounded, which many are labeling "zombies".
You can determine whether a person is a zombie by several key factors, according to CDC:
1) The individual is barely motile, walking with a shuffling, stiff gate
2) Attempts to communicate with the individual draw a mumbling or moaning sound, not words or coherent thought
3) the individual's skin is gray or even bruised looking, and they are visibly beginning to exhibit signs of decay
According to CDC, the zombies are easily avoided individually, but are deadly when encountered in a large crowd. Blockading your doors and staying inside seems to be the most effective defense, and, if necessary, damaging or destroying the zombie's brain is the best way to thwart an attack.
Officials are working closely with law enforcement, the National Guard and the military to create safe-zones in or near major cities in order to rescue and keep survivors safe. If you are able, place a white flag or bed sheet on the top of your home or building in order to signal your survival to rescuers in the area.
30
I think I have a better chance of surviving this if I can get some guns and get up into the mountains, even though it goes against official advice. Speaking of which, here's the latest from DHS:
Press Office
U.S. Department of Homeland Security
Press Release
June 13, 2007
2:45 PM EST
Contact: DHS Press Office, 2021234567
Officials advise survivors to shelter in place
WASHINGTON, D.C. -- In the aftermath of last night's meteor storm and the viral pandemic which immediately ensued, state, local and federal officials are advising unaffected survivors to shelter in place rather than trying to escape or gather together en mass.
According to Centers for Disease Control officials, those who were not infected by the virus during the shower can now only be infected by being bitten by these walking wounded, which many are labeling "zombies".
You can determine whether a person is a zombie by several key factors, according to CDC:
1) The individual is barely motile, walking with a shuffling, stiff gate
2) Attempts to communicate with the individual draw a mumbling or moaning sound, not words or coherent thought
3) the individual's skin is gray or even bruised looking, and they are visibly beginning to exhibit signs of decay
According to CDC, the zombies are easily avoided individually, but are deadly when encountered in a large crowd. Blockading your doors and staying inside seems to be the most effective defense, and, if necessary, damaging or destroying the zombie's brain is the best way to thwart an attack.
Officials are working closely with law enforcement, the National Guard and the military to create safe-zones in or near major cities in order to rescue and keep survivors safe. If you are able, place a white flag or bed sheet on the top of your home or building in order to signal your survival to rescuers in the area.
30
I just got this release from DHS
We're in for a lot of trouble, I tell you! Check this out!
Press Office
U.S. Department of Homeland Security
Press Release
June 13, 2007
1:10 PM EST
Contact: DHS Press Office, 2021234567
Responders attacked by inexplicable force
INDIANAPOLIS, Ind. – Local, state, federal and military responders to the bizarre
damages done by last night’s meteor storm are reporting that survivors are acting in a very disturbing fashion.
According to military sources, the survivors are visibly suffering from the strange viral effects of the meteor shower and although barely mobile, are overwhelming relief workers by sheer number.
“They just shamble up and start trying to attack you,” said one Soldier, who asked to
remain nameless.
Even more disturbing are reports that these “walking dead” are attempting to eat the
very people who are trying to help them.
“They mobbed us,” cried a hysterical police officer. “They were biting us. They ripped my partner to pieces. And they ate him!”
Troops are reporting that, in self defense, they have discovered that these zombielike attackers are virtually immune to gun shots.
“The only way to stop them is to shoot them in the head,” confirmed another source.
“As gruesome as that sounds, it’s all we can do,” said one Marine who has seen action
against these attackers.
Officials are fairly closelipped about the incidents, which are increasing in frequency, but witnesses report large mobs of attackers converging on rescue workers and uninjured survivors.
30
This is an unreal emergency!
The President never came on. In fact, the networks are down. This can only mean that this is bigger than just here.
I went to the Command Center. They said the storm last night wasn't a storm - it was some kind of meteor shower. It apparently blanketed the entire planet. According to CDC, this plague is from the meteors and it is world-wide. They're calling it zombieism. Go figure.
The general just got on the building's address system and said that they're locking down the base and even the building. We can not leave, as only about 1/5 of the command is even here to try and coordinate some kind of search and rescue response. Reports are that most major cities are being overrun with zombies - the people are just turning, and biting anyone who hasn't turned. Apparently, the zombies are eating people whole.
We don't even have an armory in this building. I wonder if my family is ok.
I think I'm going to try to get out - I know they want to keep us here, but what do we do if the people in the building start turning, too? I am going to try to get home, grab the wife and kids and some blunt instruments. Police are reporting that hitting or shooting the zombies in the head is the only way to kill them. We'll try to make it to the base armory. I can at least get my hands on a few pistols and some ammo, then.
I went to the Command Center. They said the storm last night wasn't a storm - it was some kind of meteor shower. It apparently blanketed the entire planet. According to CDC, this plague is from the meteors and it is world-wide. They're calling it zombieism. Go figure.
The general just got on the building's address system and said that they're locking down the base and even the building. We can not leave, as only about 1/5 of the command is even here to try and coordinate some kind of search and rescue response. Reports are that most major cities are being overrun with zombies - the people are just turning, and biting anyone who hasn't turned. Apparently, the zombies are eating people whole.
We don't even have an armory in this building. I wonder if my family is ok.
I think I'm going to try to get out - I know they want to keep us here, but what do we do if the people in the building start turning, too? I am going to try to get home, grab the wife and kids and some blunt instruments. Police are reporting that hitting or shooting the zombies in the head is the only way to kill them. We'll try to make it to the base armory. I can at least get my hands on a few pistols and some ammo, then.
This is not good
I got in to the office with no problem - in fact, I parked
almost right next to the building. There's hardly anyone
here. It is bizarre. This place is usually packed - you
have to part way the hell out in BFE.
Those people who are here are absolutely FREAKING out.
But they won't stop long enough to say why.
One other strange thing. The Denver radio station I
usually listen to wasn't on the air this morning.
They're a major market station - 200,000 watts. I
tried tuning up and down the dial. All I could find
was an AM station with some raving lunatic yelling
that he was barricading himself inside the station.
The networks are not saying anything, either. I flipped
to CNN - they said the President was gearing up to make an
important announcement, but they aren't talking about what.
I think I'll go down to the Command Center and see why
everyone is in a tizzy. This is the United States'
homeland defense headquarters, after all, we can handle
whatever is going on! Maybe that storm caused more
damage than I thought. Hmm. I guess I better get ready
to write some press releases about military response.
Sigh. Some days, I just don't like the fact that I'm
wearing the uniform.
Big storm last night
It's weird. It doesn't usually rain like this and that thunderstorm we had last night was one for the record books! It lasted almost seven hours. My son told me he saw green lightning. I told him that it was just his imagination and I sent him back to bed.
I heard sirens in the distance around 2:00 am. Other than that, though, it is kind of strange how quiet it's been this morning. Sirens must have been responding to a lightning strike. Man! That was a hell of a storm.
One good thing? My asshole neighbor who usually fires up his big-block Chevy at 5:15 and wakes up the whole planet must have slept in - the thunder probably kept him awake last night. He didn't try to blow the ears off the birds this morning with his stupid glass packs and Holly four-barrel carb. Mother Nature's good for something.
Hrmm. Well, I have to head off to the office in a few, so I better suck down some more coffee. I'm a freakin' zombie until I get the first two or three cups down my gullet.
I heard sirens in the distance around 2:00 am. Other than that, though, it is kind of strange how quiet it's been this morning. Sirens must have been responding to a lightning strike. Man! That was a hell of a storm.
One good thing? My asshole neighbor who usually fires up his big-block Chevy at 5:15 and wakes up the whole planet must have slept in - the thunder probably kept him awake last night. He didn't try to blow the ears off the birds this morning with his stupid glass packs and Holly four-barrel carb. Mother Nature's good for something.
Hrmm. Well, I have to head off to the office in a few, so I better suck down some more coffee. I'm a freakin' zombie until I get the first two or three cups down my gullet.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Zombience©
So, I've been thinking about June 13, Blog Like it's the End of the World Day all night. I have ideas. Boy do I have ideas. I have press release templates. And an unlimited supply of zombified photos. This will be one of the most entertaining afternoons/evenings I have had in a long time.
All you Kimchi wankers should get in on this! Nappy, I know you're down!
All you Kimchi wankers should get in on this! Nappy, I know you're down!
Thursday, June 07, 2007
OMG!!!!
June 13th!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOO THERE!!!!!
http://myelvesaredifferent.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-like-its-end-of-world-bliteotw.html
http://myelvesaredifferent.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-like-its-end-of-world-bliteotw.html
Monday, June 04, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
Catwoman wants me to update my blog
So, anyway, we just got finished with a major exercise. What did I learn? The zombie threat is real, people, and what's worse, your police, firemen, aid workers and yes, even the military are NOT PREPARED to deal with a full-scale zombie invasion.
Buy your shotgun now, and keep a machete handy.
Remember, aim for the head.
Buy your shotgun now, and keep a machete handy.
Remember, aim for the head.
Monday, March 26, 2007
11-Mile Canyon
Took the monkeys for a ride up to 11-Mile Canyon yesterday. What a day! It was sunny and ultimately in the 60s, although we all needed jackets at the start of the day.
It had snowed up there Friday and Saturday - we got lots of rain here in the Springs, for which my lawn is extremely grateful. So there was a lot of the white stuff, but the road into the canyon was not in too bad of shape.
First, we went all the way up to the campground at the top of the canyon to hike. We climbed for almost an hour, finding our way onto an amazing rock table overlooking the South Platte river as it flows through 11-Mile Canyon. The sun was shining, there were a few puffy clouds and it was warm enough that we could take off our jackets while we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and enjoyed.
The goofy dog is afraid of heights, we have discovered. Once we convinced him to come out where we were, he kind of curled up and whined for an hour. Scared of water and scared of heights. What a big fuzzy baby.
After we hiked down, which was a lot of fun, we went fishing! We find a sweet pool full of big trout, I got the boy going with his fly rod and the daughter picked her way upstream to cross and find a big rock to lay on in the sun while us guys fished. We caught bubkiss, but we enjoyed our day.
Finally came down off the mountain around 4:00 and had barbecue for dinner! Yay spring!
Of course, the wife has the camera in Seattle with her. Damn it. Just means we'll have to go back! YAY!
It had snowed up there Friday and Saturday - we got lots of rain here in the Springs, for which my lawn is extremely grateful. So there was a lot of the white stuff, but the road into the canyon was not in too bad of shape.
First, we went all the way up to the campground at the top of the canyon to hike. We climbed for almost an hour, finding our way onto an amazing rock table overlooking the South Platte river as it flows through 11-Mile Canyon. The sun was shining, there were a few puffy clouds and it was warm enough that we could take off our jackets while we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and enjoyed.
The goofy dog is afraid of heights, we have discovered. Once we convinced him to come out where we were, he kind of curled up and whined for an hour. Scared of water and scared of heights. What a big fuzzy baby.
After we hiked down, which was a lot of fun, we went fishing! We find a sweet pool full of big trout, I got the boy going with his fly rod and the daughter picked her way upstream to cross and find a big rock to lay on in the sun while us guys fished. We caught bubkiss, but we enjoyed our day.
Finally came down off the mountain around 4:00 and had barbecue for dinner! Yay spring!
Of course, the wife has the camera in Seattle with her. Damn it. Just means we'll have to go back! YAY!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Ugh
just ugh. I caught a stupid bug and have been miserable all week.
I felt so crappy Sunday I turned down Brownie's offer of a free ticket to see Stanton Moore.
I didn't run Monday, Tuesday at Jack Quinn's or today.
Crap. I am going to run tomorrow, damn it! Maybe I'll work out this stupid cold!
And I'm for starting the Kimchi movie night at Z's Friday - that way we can drink all his beer!!!
I felt so crappy Sunday I turned down Brownie's offer of a free ticket to see Stanton Moore.
I didn't run Monday, Tuesday at Jack Quinn's or today.
Crap. I am going to run tomorrow, damn it! Maybe I'll work out this stupid cold!
And I'm for starting the Kimchi movie night at Z's Friday - that way we can drink all his beer!!!
Friday, January 19, 2007
Up date on the Mum
She's completely healed - good enough that she's flying to Florida with Dad for a conference tomorrow morning!
YAY antibiotics.
We're all going to Arctic to get shitty tonight! Who's in?
YAY antibiotics.
We're all going to Arctic to get shitty tonight! Who's in?
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Washington D.C.
Well, I never knew it, and although I didn't get to Hash, D.C. is a MAJOR hashing city! Just check out the sculptures from the National Sculpture Garden:There was even a dancing hare, with a drum - I think the Kimchi needs a Hash Drum for circle, what do you guys think???
But of course, no visit would be complete unless I had the opportunity to see my Hash namesake:
I didn't even get a "thank you".
Next time I go to D.C., I will be sure to go find some wankers to run, er, drink with!!!!
OnOn!
Lick My Lincoln
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