The transformation that took place that first night had been terrifying. He had thrashed in bed, sweating, eaten with chills. The rotten blood from the well had been the day’s only sustenance. He lay on a bed of burlap and straw in the transformation chamber. It was more of a cell than a bedroom; thick doors, barred windows.
Outside he saw the globe of the moon, staring in, flaunting her freedom. His jaw hurt, his bones ached. And then it happened. His hands turned into claws, his teeth grew out, his body covered with hair. He started howling in terror, but soon, he was howling for the sheer joy of it. Trumpeting animal bellows leapt unbidden from his newly muscled throat. He shrieked at the moon, gnawed at the burlap covering and tore gaping scratches into the clay walls. He’d never felt so strange – or so alive!
That first time had been incredible. He now knew why he’d been locked up. The power of Anubis was not to be trifled with. Indeed, the daily meditations of the priests were more about learning to control the demon in their veins than they were an act of piety...
* * *
Two years after his initiation, he was itching to see the outside world again. The brotherhood rarely let any of the priests travel – particularly not those who had recently become members. Their jobs were to advise the Pharoah (may the god-man be blessed forever!) in matters of spiritual significance – and regularly tend the well. Most of all, they lived to carry the blood of Anubis and keep it from being spilled into the world – or poured into the hands of their enemies.
One chill spring afternoon, Qatil decided it was time for some fresh air. Most of the brotherhood were planting the grain used to feed the huge flock of goats required for the feeding of the 40. He had feigned deep meditation when asked to join them. Feeling it would be better to let him commune with the deity, they had passed on without molesting him.
Qatil often remembered the young prostitute from his initiation – though her temple was a few blocks away and kept vigorously separated from that of Anubis.
But… it could be reached, if one was clever. Qatil was young, lonely, and bored. Seeking out a friend seemed like a good idea. Even if the penalty for discovery was death. Seeing the passive nature of most of the priests, he could hardly believe they’d want to slay him. Brother Jatot had even broken the vow of silence during the Days of Ra without receiving more than a passing rebuke.
He slipped out of the tanned skins that were the garb of his order and put on his old civilian clothing. Better not to draw attention.
Quietly, he made his way up the stairs that led to the roof. There was a ladder there for the lighting of the great torch. He snagged it, and casually walked down the street, taking it to the outer wall which overlooked the women’s courtyard. There they waited for travelers, collecting “donations” for the temple. He climbed cautiously and looked down into the courtyard, not daring to simply walk in as the travelers did. Too much chance of being recognized. One fat and lazy whore fanned herself and lay against the fountain. A couple other women were emerging from one of the “service” booths with a rich-looking merchant.
Then he heard a woman cry out. "Stop it! Stop it!” The other prostitutes looked uncomfortable but didn’t help. Could it be the one he’d spent the night with before his transformation? The girl was obviously begrieved. In an instant, he was down in the square. The cries came from a booth at the end of the row. He hesitated, questioning himself. Then another cry pulled him forward. He burst in, finding a half nude woman trying to shield herself against the blows of a lean-faced man with a riding crop. He took another slash at her. “Submit, slave!”
It was the woman he knew!
Suddenly, her assailant realized he wasn’t the only man in the tent. He turned on Qatil. With sick horror, Qatil saw the man bore the belt of the priesthood – he was the girl’s owner!
“Have a problem with my property management skills?” the man snarled, “Or are you having a hard time waiting your turn?”
Qatil didn’t answer. Assaulting another priest was forbidden.
The man struck him with the crop. “Answer, fool!”
The pain snapped something inside him. The beast blood rose. He transformed. The priest cried out in horror as the girl cowered further back against the wall.
“Anubis!”
With a lunge, Qatil tore out his ribcage and feasted on his still-beating heart. The woman, horrified, tried to run past him. He caught her in his iron grip and clapped a paw over her young features. “Silence, woman! Tonight you are free!”
She nodded, fear still flashing through her eyes. Qatil knew how horrifying a transformation could be. Especially when it was accompanied by eviscerations. He threw her over his shoulder and bounded out into the courtyard. The fat whore came alive and screamed as he approached. Ignoring her, he charged for the gate. In the confusion, he was able to tear off past the market and into the vast fields of grain. When he was sure they hadn’t been followed, he finally paused. The adrenaline was wearing off. Soon he’d just be plain old Qatil again.
The girl now seemed more curious than scared. Though not certain of her safety, she was at least not in his stomach as of yet – and for a girl that had spent her life in a state of near-constant abuse, that was good enough.
He looked at his hands – there were paws no longer. Claws were now just fingernails. He looked up. The girl had noticed.
“You’re no longer a beast.”
He grinned, hoping his incisors had also retracted. “Yeah. Just plain old Qatil now.”
She looked at him, a question in her eyes. “You look familiar.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. You once told me I was a better ride than your camel. Two humps, remember?"
He shook his head. “That couldn’t have been me.”
“Hmm… wait. I know! You’re the one with the mole shaped like a diamond. Right here.” She pointed at her left buttock.
“No.”
“You have a twin, though, right?”
“No. I was an only child.”
Her eyes looked upwards, towards the sky. She seemed lost in thought. “Who and where… who and where. I’ll get it. Just give me a moment.”
With a snap of her fingers, she tried again. “You eat lots of oysters?”
“No.”
“By Ra, I give up then!”
He was a bit hurt. Maybe she’d remember if he brought up that night. “We were together once.”
“I knew it! You bit me right on the –“
“No! NO NO NO! Listen, I was going to be a priest, and you were mine for the last night before my vow. I told you that you weren’t just a whore, you were a person. And you thanked me for being gentle and sweet!”
Her laugh was unexpected. She rocked back to the grass, holding her gut. “HA!”
“What?”
“I tell that to ALL the guys!”
Qatil was not amused. The reality of what he’d done was sinking in. He had left the brotherhood, killed a priest, and freed a temple prostitute.
Though he didn’t know it, soon he would do something much worse.
Showing posts with label ALPS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ALPS. Show all posts
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Bloodline: The Cult of Anubis (Pt. II)
The next day, Qatil awoke early in the morning. A faraway trumpet announced the opening of the town market. Chickens clucked in the courtyard of the temple. A few priests were already repeating their morning chants as they crouched in the dust.
Beside him lay the temple prostitute he had been given after last night’s ceremony. After this night, he was to have no more contact with women.
The time they had shared had been awkward. He was inexperienced – and she had been bored. Lying with men had long-since ceased to be a pleasure for her and had instead become a chore. No doubt her family had sold her into prostitution in order to pay off some debt to the state. He wished her no ill – though he did wish he had been able to avoid the entire embarrassing episode altogether. The sunlight lit upon her face. She couldn’t have been any older than sixteen.
Unaware, he had put out his hand to stroke her hair. The girl awoke, startled.
“I apologize, sacred consort. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She half-smiled and stretched. “I don’t mind. I am sorry that you’ll be joining the priesthood.”
Surprised, he started. “Why?”
“You're gentle and sweet.”
He blushed, not sure what to say. It was a simple religious rite… yet it felt like it should have been deeper. A communion unshared with others. But this girl would never get a chance to become someone’s one and only woman. More likely, when she got older, she would end up a sacrifice or a slave.
“Thank you. You are… also... a very nice woman.”
She laughed, a tinkle of glass. “I am a whore.”
He winced. “You’re still a person… a… a…”
“I’m just a whore. But you’re very sweet.”
She kissed him. “I almost wish we’d met under different circumstances,” she stated bluntly. Then she stood, wrapped her gown around her slender form, and walked away into the already-warming air.
He sat there for a while, wishing he could do something for her. But then, with a sick thud, he remembered his initiation. It was today! He girded his loins and stepped out of his goatskin Initiate’s tent. He repeated the words of his oath again, making sure he had them all memorized.
He stood before the entrance of the temple. For good luck, he drew a charm in the dust with his foot. Then he knocked on the huge brass door. The words boomed back from inside.
“Who seeks to crawl in the dust before Anubis?”
Trying to sound brave, he yelled back. “I, Qatil the Initiate.”
“And why should we let you inside his sacred home?”
“I am the one who makes 40, the sacred number. I am the one who sacrifices my will for his. I am the one who was chosen by his priest. And I am the one who seeks to mingle blood!”
The door swung open. There, he was embraced by High Priest Kalut and kissed on the forehead. The other priests bowed before him. He was dressed in the sacred robe and brought into the room that last night had been a place of death. Anubis stared forwards over his head, impassive.
Qatil prostrated himself before the image. The High Priest recited the rules of the order and the great myth of Anubis, the jackal-headed god. Then came the culmination. The well was uncapped right in front of Qatil, releasing a stench of rotting corpuscles. The sacred bowl was lowered in a woven net, down into the blackness. Then it returned, filled with filthy liquid.
Repeating the oath, Qatil brought it to his lips and drank. The priests lifted their voices in exaltation, welcoming a new servant of the god.
Later that night, he was visited by Anubis himself.
Beside him lay the temple prostitute he had been given after last night’s ceremony. After this night, he was to have no more contact with women.
The time they had shared had been awkward. He was inexperienced – and she had been bored. Lying with men had long-since ceased to be a pleasure for her and had instead become a chore. No doubt her family had sold her into prostitution in order to pay off some debt to the state. He wished her no ill – though he did wish he had been able to avoid the entire embarrassing episode altogether. The sunlight lit upon her face. She couldn’t have been any older than sixteen.
Unaware, he had put out his hand to stroke her hair. The girl awoke, startled.
“I apologize, sacred consort. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She half-smiled and stretched. “I don’t mind. I am sorry that you’ll be joining the priesthood.”
Surprised, he started. “Why?”
“You're gentle and sweet.”
He blushed, not sure what to say. It was a simple religious rite… yet it felt like it should have been deeper. A communion unshared with others. But this girl would never get a chance to become someone’s one and only woman. More likely, when she got older, she would end up a sacrifice or a slave.
“Thank you. You are… also... a very nice woman.”
She laughed, a tinkle of glass. “I am a whore.”
He winced. “You’re still a person… a… a…”
“I’m just a whore. But you’re very sweet.”
She kissed him. “I almost wish we’d met under different circumstances,” she stated bluntly. Then she stood, wrapped her gown around her slender form, and walked away into the already-warming air.
He sat there for a while, wishing he could do something for her. But then, with a sick thud, he remembered his initiation. It was today! He girded his loins and stepped out of his goatskin Initiate’s tent. He repeated the words of his oath again, making sure he had them all memorized.
He stood before the entrance of the temple. For good luck, he drew a charm in the dust with his foot. Then he knocked on the huge brass door. The words boomed back from inside.
“Who seeks to crawl in the dust before Anubis?”
Trying to sound brave, he yelled back. “I, Qatil the Initiate.”
“And why should we let you inside his sacred home?”
“I am the one who makes 40, the sacred number. I am the one who sacrifices my will for his. I am the one who was chosen by his priest. And I am the one who seeks to mingle blood!”
The door swung open. There, he was embraced by High Priest Kalut and kissed on the forehead. The other priests bowed before him. He was dressed in the sacred robe and brought into the room that last night had been a place of death. Anubis stared forwards over his head, impassive.
Qatil prostrated himself before the image. The High Priest recited the rules of the order and the great myth of Anubis, the jackal-headed god. Then came the culmination. The well was uncapped right in front of Qatil, releasing a stench of rotting corpuscles. The sacred bowl was lowered in a woven net, down into the blackness. Then it returned, filled with filthy liquid.
Repeating the oath, Qatil brought it to his lips and drank. The priests lifted their voices in exaltation, welcoming a new servant of the god.
Later that night, he was visited by Anubis himself.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Bloodline: The Cult of Anubis (Pt. I)
“Bring the sacred bowl!”
Qatil did, trembling hands betraying his Initiate status. The priests were gathered tonight to send one of their own on his journey to the beyond.
The object of their ministrations was an emaciated and ancient figure, bare-chested and remarkably hairy. Stretched out on a stone slab before the great image of Anubis, the dying man clutched a large golden ankh in his hands, eyes shut, breathing heavy.
“Arkases has served his god throughout life – and now will continue to serve him in death. Let us mingle his blood now with the blood of Anubis in divine communion!”
The speaker was the high priest. Carefully, he removed a silver dagger from its sheath. Arkases opened his eyes and put forth his hand. High Priest Kalut handed him the dagger. Arkases kissed its blade, clutched it to his heart for a moment, and handed it back to Kalut. Then he shut his eyes and collapsed back onto the slab. His time was near.
A young slave brought a muzzled jackal into the chamber. Two priests grabbed it as Kalut pronounced the sacrificial words. Six more priests uncapped the marble well before the feet of Anubis as Kalut suspended the jackal above its blackness and let the blood flow into its maw.
The priests chanted and wailed. All forty of their number were gathered tonight to watch the transition of Arkases. His breathing grew more labored, ragged gasps replacing even breaths. His form shifted, at once like a man, and then like a wolf, and back again. A priest lay a cool rag on his sweating forehead as he mumbled incantations of peace.
Finally, it happened… with a final rough intake of air, the man breathed his last. Kalut started the chant of infinity – the song of Anubis and the netherworld. Kalut then transformed into a magnificent black were-jackal, and howled a final piercing goodbye to the company’s fallen brother.
Quickly, they then pulled Arkases’s corpse up on the table and carefully slit his throat, allowing the hot blood to gush forth into the bowl. They eased his body down slowly and raised the tilt of the platform, letting the sacred crimson fill the receptacle almost to its rim.
After an eternity, the final drops fell. With a last chanting of blessing and sanctification, the priests removed the body of Arkases to the embalming chamber.
“Join, join and mingle! For now, faithful priest, you become one with your god!
The blood of Arkases was poured into the well. The thirty-nine remaining priests bowed before Anubis as Kalut returned the golden ankh to his hand.
Qatil did, trembling hands betraying his Initiate status. The priests were gathered tonight to send one of their own on his journey to the beyond.
The object of their ministrations was an emaciated and ancient figure, bare-chested and remarkably hairy. Stretched out on a stone slab before the great image of Anubis, the dying man clutched a large golden ankh in his hands, eyes shut, breathing heavy.
“Arkases has served his god throughout life – and now will continue to serve him in death. Let us mingle his blood now with the blood of Anubis in divine communion!”
The speaker was the high priest. Carefully, he removed a silver dagger from its sheath. Arkases opened his eyes and put forth his hand. High Priest Kalut handed him the dagger. Arkases kissed its blade, clutched it to his heart for a moment, and handed it back to Kalut. Then he shut his eyes and collapsed back onto the slab. His time was near.
A young slave brought a muzzled jackal into the chamber. Two priests grabbed it as Kalut pronounced the sacrificial words. Six more priests uncapped the marble well before the feet of Anubis as Kalut suspended the jackal above its blackness and let the blood flow into its maw.
The priests chanted and wailed. All forty of their number were gathered tonight to watch the transition of Arkases. His breathing grew more labored, ragged gasps replacing even breaths. His form shifted, at once like a man, and then like a wolf, and back again. A priest lay a cool rag on his sweating forehead as he mumbled incantations of peace.
Finally, it happened… with a final rough intake of air, the man breathed his last. Kalut started the chant of infinity – the song of Anubis and the netherworld. Kalut then transformed into a magnificent black were-jackal, and howled a final piercing goodbye to the company’s fallen brother.
Quickly, they then pulled Arkases’s corpse up on the table and carefully slit his throat, allowing the hot blood to gush forth into the bowl. They eased his body down slowly and raised the tilt of the platform, letting the sacred crimson fill the receptacle almost to its rim.
After an eternity, the final drops fell. With a last chanting of blessing and sanctification, the priests removed the body of Arkases to the embalming chamber.
“Join, join and mingle! For now, faithful priest, you become one with your god!
The blood of Arkases was poured into the well. The thirty-nine remaining priests bowed before Anubis as Kalut returned the golden ankh to his hand.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Miguel Checks In
“Hey everyone, it’s Miguel.”
(EVERYONE: Hi Miguel!)
“Wait. I started that wrong. How’s this? Uh, hi everyone, I’m Miguel, and I’m a were-wolf.”
(EVERYONE: Hi Miguel!)
“So… anyhow… I know I haven’t been around much lately. Been too busy to show up. Well… not REALLY too busy, but… time gets away from me.
See, I lost my regular job and I’m just freelancing now on random stuff. And by freelancing, I mean basically doing nothing because almost nobody’s hiring freelancers. Sure, I get the occasional computer-fixing job or html gig… but things are slow. Glad I’m single or I’d really be toast.
Now I’m not naturally a lazy guy, so I’ve set some tasks. It wasn’t until I started coming here that I really came to grips with my ALPS. Hank helped me with that. Before… I just ignored it. Of course, now that it’s getting all political, if you ignore it – you’re likely to end up in Gitmo or wherever they’re sending “enemy combatants” these days.
Anyhow, my main task has been researching stuff about paranormal creatures. Like us, right? Ha. So... most of my research has involved archival footage. For example, last month I watched the 1931 version of Dracula with Bela Lugosi. Interestingly, that film tied in werewolf legends with vampire legends.”
(Someone in the audience boos loudly)
“I know, I know. Most of us aren’t fans of the necksuckers. But… watching Dracula made me think. Could there be a common thread connecting weres with vampires? People around here have starting talking about ‘Dark Life’ lately, and trying to make it like we ALPS victims are also part of some deep dark thread that runs through history… connecting trolls, chupacabras, Barbra Streisand and goblins or whatever. I’m not sure about that. But it does make me think a little that we might know a lot less than we think we do.
So… after watching Dracula, and thinking about how hard it was to follow and how poorly paced… it made me really feel down about life. So… I killed and ate a particularly annoying neighbor. Not intentionally, of course…it was on accident. But this guy… my gosh… he was driving me batty! Up all night… cranking up the bass on his car (a black hearse, by the way), having all these pale pasty druggie looking chicks over constantly for 2:00AM pool parties – it was NUTS!
And I was already in a funk from being unemployed. And it was a full moon. I was trying to get some sleep and he cranked up the radio one too many times. I looked out the window… he was out in front of his house, just fiddling around with his car door open. No one else there. So I walked over, irritated. And he looked at me with a drop-dead look… and I transformed… and tore him to shreds.
But… then I noticed his teeth. Uh-oh. One of those. Should have FREAKING guessed that… but with all the stupid goth punks around here, you don’t except a real creature of the night.
Uh… so now I’m worried. Could I end up with SCABS? Am I more susceptible because I already have ALPS?"
(Someone yells “NO!”)
"Well, I hope not. But I’ve started taking garlic capsules just to be sure."
(Miguel starts to walk off the stage – then returns to the mic)
“Oh… and if anyone is hiring right now… can you guys let me know?”
(EVERYONE: Hi Miguel!)
“Wait. I started that wrong. How’s this? Uh, hi everyone, I’m Miguel, and I’m a were-wolf.”
(EVERYONE: Hi Miguel!)
“So… anyhow… I know I haven’t been around much lately. Been too busy to show up. Well… not REALLY too busy, but… time gets away from me.
See, I lost my regular job and I’m just freelancing now on random stuff. And by freelancing, I mean basically doing nothing because almost nobody’s hiring freelancers. Sure, I get the occasional computer-fixing job or html gig… but things are slow. Glad I’m single or I’d really be toast.
Now I’m not naturally a lazy guy, so I’ve set some tasks. It wasn’t until I started coming here that I really came to grips with my ALPS. Hank helped me with that. Before… I just ignored it. Of course, now that it’s getting all political, if you ignore it – you’re likely to end up in Gitmo or wherever they’re sending “enemy combatants” these days.
Anyhow, my main task has been researching stuff about paranormal creatures. Like us, right? Ha. So... most of my research has involved archival footage. For example, last month I watched the 1931 version of Dracula with Bela Lugosi. Interestingly, that film tied in werewolf legends with vampire legends.”
(Someone in the audience boos loudly)
“I know, I know. Most of us aren’t fans of the necksuckers. But… watching Dracula made me think. Could there be a common thread connecting weres with vampires? People around here have starting talking about ‘Dark Life’ lately, and trying to make it like we ALPS victims are also part of some deep dark thread that runs through history… connecting trolls, chupacabras, Barbra Streisand and goblins or whatever. I’m not sure about that. But it does make me think a little that we might know a lot less than we think we do.
So… after watching Dracula, and thinking about how hard it was to follow and how poorly paced… it made me really feel down about life. So… I killed and ate a particularly annoying neighbor. Not intentionally, of course…it was on accident. But this guy… my gosh… he was driving me batty! Up all night… cranking up the bass on his car (a black hearse, by the way), having all these pale pasty druggie looking chicks over constantly for 2:00AM pool parties – it was NUTS!
And I was already in a funk from being unemployed. And it was a full moon. I was trying to get some sleep and he cranked up the radio one too many times. I looked out the window… he was out in front of his house, just fiddling around with his car door open. No one else there. So I walked over, irritated. And he looked at me with a drop-dead look… and I transformed… and tore him to shreds.
But… then I noticed his teeth. Uh-oh. One of those. Should have FREAKING guessed that… but with all the stupid goth punks around here, you don’t except a real creature of the night.
Uh… so now I’m worried. Could I end up with SCABS? Am I more susceptible because I already have ALPS?"
(Someone yells “NO!”)
"Well, I hope not. But I’ve started taking garlic capsules just to be sure."
(Miguel starts to walk off the stage – then returns to the mic)
“Oh… and if anyone is hiring right now… can you guys let me know?”
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Rally
"Hi everyone. I think everybody knows me by now, but in case there are some new members I'm Hank and I'm a werewolf."
[Group: "Hi Hank!"]
"I don't know what's happening lately, but it seems like my life has gotten a lot more exciting. Other than meeting Michelle, the lollipop love of my life, it's mostly been the bad kind of exciting. Last Saturday was supposed to be different but it wasn't.
"Michelle and I didn't have anything planned for Saturday. We were just going go to a movie or maybe even just stay home, cuddle on the couch and watch a few DVDs. You know, just hang out and enjoy being together.
"Luke had other ideas. You remember him? He's Michelle's brother and the scriptwriter who's working on a werewolf-vampire movie for grown ups. Based at least a little bit on what he observes from Michelle and me. Anyway, Michelle and I were trying to decide between a movie theater or DVDs when Luke suggested a walk in the park. That sounded like a fun idea, too, even if it wasn't just going to be Michelle and me. So we headed out toward the park.
"Luke grabbed his writer's notebook but that didn't seem strange to me. He never goes anywhere without that thing. He says you never know when an idea will hit you or when you'll see something that just has to be included in a story. This time, Luke knew he was going to see something worth writing down, he just didn't tell us about it.
"It was kind of nippy outside, which gave made it even more natural for me to walk with my arm around Michelle. Sharing bodily warmth and all that. We just wandered, enjoyed watching the families playing in the park and followed along behind Luke. Off in the distance we began to hear some voices coming over a loud speaker or something and some cheering. There are rallies in the park all the time, though, and Michelle and I were too busy paying attention to each other to pay attention to anything else. But Luke was leading us right to the rally.
"He tried to act all surprised when we reached it, like he didn't know what it was about, but Luke can't act worth a damn. He said something like, 'Oh my!' then dug out his notebook and started scribbling. Michelle and I just stared in disbelief.
"There were probably a thousand people or more standing before a small stage. Erected behind the stage was a big sign that read 'Alpo must go!' and another that read 'Internment or death!' People in the audience held signs like 'The only good were is a dead were!' and even 'God hates alpos!' I was stunned. I mean, I remember that stupid editorial after the big Thanksgiving Day turkey drop but I thought it had blown over. Wrong!
"The man on stage was really whipping the crowd into a frenzy. 'Why does the government let these sickos walk among us regular people? That's what I want to know!' Some in crowd called out 'Yeah!' or 'You tell them, Riley!'
"Riley was just getting started, 'President Obama promised us change we could believe in. Well, rounding up those animals is the kind of change this country needs! If the government is going to spend billions and billions of dollars, why not spend it to make our children safe from the scourge of ALPS?'
"I was still just staring at this, my good mood shot all the Hell. But Michelle got really pissed off at Luke. 'You knew this was going to be going on, Luke! Don't you dare try to deny it,' she said. 'Why did you have to drag us along and ruin our day?'
"Luke at least looked a little sheepish, 'I need to see how this kind of thing affects someone with ALPS. I needed an honest response so my script will be authentic. I really am sorry, but I've got show how much this kind of thing hurts people like Hank so the audience will sympathize with the ALPS character.'
"I think Michelle had a whole lot more she wanted to say, but things took an...exciting turn right about then. You won't be surprised to learn I wasn't the only person with ALPS watching the rally. A group of six guys in gang colors were pushing their way through the audience. They didn't look like they wanted to debate anything with Riley, either. Man, the one thing the ALPS community didn't need right then was more bad publicity. And if those guys transformed and ripped into Riley I figured we'd be one step closer to being rounded up.
"I turned to Luke and said, 'You and Michelle get out of here now. This is about to get really ugly!' Then I started running toward the stage, hoping I could get there before the gang bangers. I got lucky. The gang stopped at the front of the crowd to shout insults at Riley and try to get him mad. But Riley had loudspeakers. He just talked right over them, using them as extra fodder to build up more hatred. Finally the gang bangers got tired of shouting and transformed.
"There was plenty of screaming as the crowd scrambled to get away from them. One second there were six guys in colors, next second there were six rottweilers snarling up at Riley. I'll give Riley one thing, he went white but he held his ground and continued with his rant. I don't know if he was being brave or stupid, but he stuck to his guns.
"The were-rottweilers were taking their time, now, growling and barking and foaming at the mouth a bit. You know, putting on the whole 'we are so bad and so mean' show for the crowd. It gave me the time I needed to transform and leap up onto the stage. Let me tell you, that really got everyone's attention! If the crowd had scrambled and screamed a bit at the rottweilers, they got nearly hysterical when I showed up. The idiots didn't even realize I had put myself between the were-rottweilers and that bastard Riley. The were-doggies noticed, though, and they weren't real happy about it.
"Next thing, the leader of the pack leaped at me and the fight was on. Normally, a wolf against a rottweiler is going to go the wolf's way. But there were six of them and just one of me. I kept moving and snapping and clawing and doing my best to keep them back and away from the speaker. They seemed happy to fight it out with me before taking on Riley.
"They never did get any good bites or scratches on me, but they got lots and lots of little ones. I managed to put three of them down and out of the fight, but by then I was really tired and hurt and losing blood. I knew I wasn't going to win this one, that they were going to rip Riley to shreds and I'd probably get lumped in with them in the news stories. The leader of the pack knew I was pretty much out of it, too. He glared at me, got his other two dogs to attack me then went for Riley's throat.
"He didn't get there, though. I don't know how long Michelle had been there but she caught the pack leader by the tail and just slammed him down onto the stage. The leader was stunned a bit but rolled up and was about to try again when Michelle leaned over and flashed her fangs at him! That dog took to whining and whimpering and he and his gang ran off with their tales between their legs.
"And you know what? That Riley guy was loving every minute of it! I finally tuned in to what he was saying. 'See? Do you see, good people?' he preached into the microphone. 'Do you see what these animals are capable of? I dared to speak the truth and my very life was threatened because of it!'
"That was just too much for me. Here the very people he was railing against had just saved his life and he was claiming we were all a bunch of savage animals! Still in wolf form, I limped over to him and his eyes got wide as I came closer. He never did shut up, though. Behind me, Michelle said, 'Don't do it, Hank! He's not worth it!'
"I really, really wanted to bite that bastard on the ass and let him see what ALPS was like from our side. But I knew Michelle was right. I transformed back to human form, standing right in front of Riley. I spoke loud enough that the microphone picked up what I had to say, 'Screw you, asshole!' And then I kicked him in the balls.
"The rally sort of fell apart after that. The police showed up and so did the news crews. But Michelle and I were able to slip away in all the confusion. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch and we even cuddled some for comfort. Mostly, we just got drunk.
"I hate to say it, people, but that whole internment idea isn't just a one shot, stupid news editorial. It's a movement now. It might be small, but we can't just sit around and hope it just goes away. We've got to figure out how to combat it and I don't think a movie that puts us in a good light is going to be enough."
[Group: "Hi Hank!"]
"I don't know what's happening lately, but it seems like my life has gotten a lot more exciting. Other than meeting Michelle, the lollipop love of my life, it's mostly been the bad kind of exciting. Last Saturday was supposed to be different but it wasn't.
"Michelle and I didn't have anything planned for Saturday. We were just going go to a movie or maybe even just stay home, cuddle on the couch and watch a few DVDs. You know, just hang out and enjoy being together.
"Luke had other ideas. You remember him? He's Michelle's brother and the scriptwriter who's working on a werewolf-vampire movie for grown ups. Based at least a little bit on what he observes from Michelle and me. Anyway, Michelle and I were trying to decide between a movie theater or DVDs when Luke suggested a walk in the park. That sounded like a fun idea, too, even if it wasn't just going to be Michelle and me. So we headed out toward the park.
"Luke grabbed his writer's notebook but that didn't seem strange to me. He never goes anywhere without that thing. He says you never know when an idea will hit you or when you'll see something that just has to be included in a story. This time, Luke knew he was going to see something worth writing down, he just didn't tell us about it.
"It was kind of nippy outside, which gave made it even more natural for me to walk with my arm around Michelle. Sharing bodily warmth and all that. We just wandered, enjoyed watching the families playing in the park and followed along behind Luke. Off in the distance we began to hear some voices coming over a loud speaker or something and some cheering. There are rallies in the park all the time, though, and Michelle and I were too busy paying attention to each other to pay attention to anything else. But Luke was leading us right to the rally.
"He tried to act all surprised when we reached it, like he didn't know what it was about, but Luke can't act worth a damn. He said something like, 'Oh my!' then dug out his notebook and started scribbling. Michelle and I just stared in disbelief.
"There were probably a thousand people or more standing before a small stage. Erected behind the stage was a big sign that read 'Alpo must go!' and another that read 'Internment or death!' People in the audience held signs like 'The only good were is a dead were!' and even 'God hates alpos!' I was stunned. I mean, I remember that stupid editorial after the big Thanksgiving Day turkey drop but I thought it had blown over. Wrong!
"The man on stage was really whipping the crowd into a frenzy. 'Why does the government let these sickos walk among us regular people? That's what I want to know!' Some in crowd called out 'Yeah!' or 'You tell them, Riley!'
"Riley was just getting started, 'President Obama promised us change we could believe in. Well, rounding up those animals is the kind of change this country needs! If the government is going to spend billions and billions of dollars, why not spend it to make our children safe from the scourge of ALPS?'
"I was still just staring at this, my good mood shot all the Hell. But Michelle got really pissed off at Luke. 'You knew this was going to be going on, Luke! Don't you dare try to deny it,' she said. 'Why did you have to drag us along and ruin our day?'
"Luke at least looked a little sheepish, 'I need to see how this kind of thing affects someone with ALPS. I needed an honest response so my script will be authentic. I really am sorry, but I've got show how much this kind of thing hurts people like Hank so the audience will sympathize with the ALPS character.'
"I think Michelle had a whole lot more she wanted to say, but things took an...exciting turn right about then. You won't be surprised to learn I wasn't the only person with ALPS watching the rally. A group of six guys in gang colors were pushing their way through the audience. They didn't look like they wanted to debate anything with Riley, either. Man, the one thing the ALPS community didn't need right then was more bad publicity. And if those guys transformed and ripped into Riley I figured we'd be one step closer to being rounded up.
"I turned to Luke and said, 'You and Michelle get out of here now. This is about to get really ugly!' Then I started running toward the stage, hoping I could get there before the gang bangers. I got lucky. The gang stopped at the front of the crowd to shout insults at Riley and try to get him mad. But Riley had loudspeakers. He just talked right over them, using them as extra fodder to build up more hatred. Finally the gang bangers got tired of shouting and transformed.
"There was plenty of screaming as the crowd scrambled to get away from them. One second there were six guys in colors, next second there were six rottweilers snarling up at Riley. I'll give Riley one thing, he went white but he held his ground and continued with his rant. I don't know if he was being brave or stupid, but he stuck to his guns.
"The were-rottweilers were taking their time, now, growling and barking and foaming at the mouth a bit. You know, putting on the whole 'we are so bad and so mean' show for the crowd. It gave me the time I needed to transform and leap up onto the stage. Let me tell you, that really got everyone's attention! If the crowd had scrambled and screamed a bit at the rottweilers, they got nearly hysterical when I showed up. The idiots didn't even realize I had put myself between the were-rottweilers and that bastard Riley. The were-doggies noticed, though, and they weren't real happy about it.
"Next thing, the leader of the pack leaped at me and the fight was on. Normally, a wolf against a rottweiler is going to go the wolf's way. But there were six of them and just one of me. I kept moving and snapping and clawing and doing my best to keep them back and away from the speaker. They seemed happy to fight it out with me before taking on Riley.
"They never did get any good bites or scratches on me, but they got lots and lots of little ones. I managed to put three of them down and out of the fight, but by then I was really tired and hurt and losing blood. I knew I wasn't going to win this one, that they were going to rip Riley to shreds and I'd probably get lumped in with them in the news stories. The leader of the pack knew I was pretty much out of it, too. He glared at me, got his other two dogs to attack me then went for Riley's throat.
"He didn't get there, though. I don't know how long Michelle had been there but she caught the pack leader by the tail and just slammed him down onto the stage. The leader was stunned a bit but rolled up and was about to try again when Michelle leaned over and flashed her fangs at him! That dog took to whining and whimpering and he and his gang ran off with their tales between their legs.
"And you know what? That Riley guy was loving every minute of it! I finally tuned in to what he was saying. 'See? Do you see, good people?' he preached into the microphone. 'Do you see what these animals are capable of? I dared to speak the truth and my very life was threatened because of it!'
"That was just too much for me. Here the very people he was railing against had just saved his life and he was claiming we were all a bunch of savage animals! Still in wolf form, I limped over to him and his eyes got wide as I came closer. He never did shut up, though. Behind me, Michelle said, 'Don't do it, Hank! He's not worth it!'
"I really, really wanted to bite that bastard on the ass and let him see what ALPS was like from our side. But I knew Michelle was right. I transformed back to human form, standing right in front of Riley. I spoke loud enough that the microphone picked up what I had to say, 'Screw you, asshole!' And then I kicked him in the balls.
"The rally sort of fell apart after that. The police showed up and so did the news crews. But Michelle and I were able to slip away in all the confusion. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch and we even cuddled some for comfort. Mostly, we just got drunk.
"I hate to say it, people, but that whole internment idea isn't just a one shot, stupid news editorial. It's a movement now. It might be small, but we can't just sit around and hope it just goes away. We've got to figure out how to combat it and I don't think a movie that puts us in a good light is going to be enough."
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Lollipop Love
“Hi, I’m Hank and I’m a werewolf.”
[Everyone: Hi Hank!]
“I’m… Uh… Wow, this is tougher than I thought… Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it…”
[Person in the crowd: So say it already!]
“I was working up to it! This isn’t easy and you’ll understand when I finally say it… All right… Out with it…
“I’m in love with a lollipop!”
[Same person: A what?]
“A lollipop. What’s with all the blank stares? Geez, don’t you people know what a lollipop is?”
[Miguel: I know-]
“Besides you, Miguel… Man, don’t any of you people ever go out or read anything in the press? A lollipop is a vampire!
“You guys still don’t get it? It’s like this. A vampire is a blood sucker. People shorten blood sucker to sucker. And a sucker is another word for a lollipop. See? It’s simple.
“I can see by your faces that this isn’t sinking in. Let’s just say vampires would rather be called lollipops than scabbies. At least the girls would. And that’s what I want to tell you about. I’m in love with a girl vampire!
“I’d been looking around for a script writer to infect with ALPS so we could get a big, sympathetic movie made about us. And with that stupid editorial calling for internment of all of us, I figured it was more important than ever to find the script writer fast! I did some searching around on the internet. By the way, thanks for fixing my computer again, Miguel!"
[Miguel: No prob, dude.]
“Anyway, I’d found this guy, Luke Dorn, who was taking a break from Hollywood for a few months. He came here to teach writing for a semester at a local college and work on a book he was writing. Anyway, I tracked-“
[Miguel: You tracked?]
“Okay, I told Miguel about the guy and he tracked him down somehow. I think Miguel used his computer but I don’t know. Anyway, once I knew where Luke lived and worked, I watched him for a while to figure out his habits. It turns out he always hits a sports bar on Monday nights to watch football. I started going to same bar and it wasn’t too hard to manage to meet him and get him talking. That’s an essential skill for a used car salesman! Besides, he made it easy. He always wore a Philadelphia Eagles hat and jacket. I just showed up wearing the same and he did most of my work for me.
“Anyway, we became good buddies. I wasn’t faking that, either. Luke turned out to be a good guy. Nice enough I was starting to feel sorry I had to infect him with ALPS. Last Monday, I suggested we meet at his apartment after work and grab a bite to eat before the game. That way I could bite him in private and not give the papers any more bad stuff to write about us.
“I showed up at Luke’s place at 6:30 and he offered me a beer while he finished up something. I kicked in a little of the power just to sense if he was nervous or anything. And right then the door opened and a woman walked in. A really good looking woman.
“Luke said, ‘Oh, good. I was hoping you’d get home in time! Hank, this is my sister Michelle.’
“But we weren’t paying attention to Luke. Michelle glared at me and said, “Alpo.” I glared back and said, “Scabbie.” Luke was just looking back and forth between us looking confused when Michelle leaped at me.
“She knocked me back into the wall but I just used it to push off and hit her hard, knocking her down. Next thing, we were rolling all around trying to get an advantage on the other. I really wanted to fully transform, but you know how you have to give it all your concentration for a second or so to transform if the moon isn’t full? Well, I figured if I took that second or so, she’d rip my throat out or something.
“In the background, I think Luke was shouting at us. He was probably trying to figure out what was going on, too. Can’t say I blame him. I mean, his sister and his new friend were rolling around on the floor, breaking his furniture and trying to kill each other. It’d probably freak out any normal.
“Michelle and I rolled up against this monster couch that Luke had and everything stopped for a second. She was lying on top of me, trying to pin my arms to the floor. We were both panting and I’ll bet I had the same wild, uncontrolled look in my eyes that she had in hers. I could feel blood rolling down the side of my cheek from a cut. Then it was like the whole world vanished for a few seconds. It just her and me, staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when she leaned down and licked the blood off my cheek. The look on her face told me everything.
“She was hungry and it was taking every bit of control she had to fight her natural instincts. I know how that feels. We all know how that feels. So I said, ‘Go ahead and feed. It’s okay. ’ I turned my head and offered my neck to her. That wasn’t easy to do, I’ll tell you!
“Her fangs popped out but she still hesitated. ‘I… I shouldn’t!’
“’Why not?’ I asked her. ‘Remember? I’m a werewolf. I’ll heal! Let yourself go. Everyone needs to do that every now and then.’
“I’ve got a better idea why vampires are having an easier time fitting in to noral society than we are. Having a vampire feed on you is… Well, it’s hard to describe. It hurts a bit at first but then it becomes really intimate. It’s not like sex, but it’s just as intimate.
“After a few minutes, it dawned on us that Luke was still in the room watching us. It was almost embarrassing. Kind of like being in college and having your roommate ignore the tie you left on the door knob and walked in at the wrong time. But Luke was embarrassed by it. Hell, he was busy scribbling in a notebook and muttering, ‘This is great stuff!’
“I won’t go over everything that happened afterwards, but get this. Luke’s going to write that screenplay we want! He’s going to put vampires in it, too, which makes sense considering his sister is one. It’s going to be about how alienated both groups are from normal society. I didn’t even have to give Luke ALPS to get him started! And I met a wonderful girl at the same time!
“I love it when a plan comes together!”
[Everyone: Hi Hank!]
“I’m… Uh… Wow, this is tougher than I thought… Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it…”
[Person in the crowd: So say it already!]
“I was working up to it! This isn’t easy and you’ll understand when I finally say it… All right… Out with it…
“I’m in love with a lollipop!”
[Same person: A what?]
“A lollipop. What’s with all the blank stares? Geez, don’t you people know what a lollipop is?”
[Miguel: I know-]
“Besides you, Miguel… Man, don’t any of you people ever go out or read anything in the press? A lollipop is a vampire!
“You guys still don’t get it? It’s like this. A vampire is a blood sucker. People shorten blood sucker to sucker. And a sucker is another word for a lollipop. See? It’s simple.
“I can see by your faces that this isn’t sinking in. Let’s just say vampires would rather be called lollipops than scabbies. At least the girls would. And that’s what I want to tell you about. I’m in love with a girl vampire!
“I’d been looking around for a script writer to infect with ALPS so we could get a big, sympathetic movie made about us. And with that stupid editorial calling for internment of all of us, I figured it was more important than ever to find the script writer fast! I did some searching around on the internet. By the way, thanks for fixing my computer again, Miguel!"
[Miguel: No prob, dude.]
“Anyway, I’d found this guy, Luke Dorn, who was taking a break from Hollywood for a few months. He came here to teach writing for a semester at a local college and work on a book he was writing. Anyway, I tracked-“
[Miguel: You tracked?]
“Okay, I told Miguel about the guy and he tracked him down somehow. I think Miguel used his computer but I don’t know. Anyway, once I knew where Luke lived and worked, I watched him for a while to figure out his habits. It turns out he always hits a sports bar on Monday nights to watch football. I started going to same bar and it wasn’t too hard to manage to meet him and get him talking. That’s an essential skill for a used car salesman! Besides, he made it easy. He always wore a Philadelphia Eagles hat and jacket. I just showed up wearing the same and he did most of my work for me.
“Anyway, we became good buddies. I wasn’t faking that, either. Luke turned out to be a good guy. Nice enough I was starting to feel sorry I had to infect him with ALPS. Last Monday, I suggested we meet at his apartment after work and grab a bite to eat before the game. That way I could bite him in private and not give the papers any more bad stuff to write about us.
“I showed up at Luke’s place at 6:30 and he offered me a beer while he finished up something. I kicked in a little of the power just to sense if he was nervous or anything. And right then the door opened and a woman walked in. A really good looking woman.
“Luke said, ‘Oh, good. I was hoping you’d get home in time! Hank, this is my sister Michelle.’
“But we weren’t paying attention to Luke. Michelle glared at me and said, “Alpo.” I glared back and said, “Scabbie.” Luke was just looking back and forth between us looking confused when Michelle leaped at me.
“She knocked me back into the wall but I just used it to push off and hit her hard, knocking her down. Next thing, we were rolling all around trying to get an advantage on the other. I really wanted to fully transform, but you know how you have to give it all your concentration for a second or so to transform if the moon isn’t full? Well, I figured if I took that second or so, she’d rip my throat out or something.
“In the background, I think Luke was shouting at us. He was probably trying to figure out what was going on, too. Can’t say I blame him. I mean, his sister and his new friend were rolling around on the floor, breaking his furniture and trying to kill each other. It’d probably freak out any normal.
“Michelle and I rolled up against this monster couch that Luke had and everything stopped for a second. She was lying on top of me, trying to pin my arms to the floor. We were both panting and I’ll bet I had the same wild, uncontrolled look in my eyes that she had in hers. I could feel blood rolling down the side of my cheek from a cut. Then it was like the whole world vanished for a few seconds. It just her and me, staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when she leaned down and licked the blood off my cheek. The look on her face told me everything.
“She was hungry and it was taking every bit of control she had to fight her natural instincts. I know how that feels. We all know how that feels. So I said, ‘Go ahead and feed. It’s okay. ’ I turned my head and offered my neck to her. That wasn’t easy to do, I’ll tell you!
“Her fangs popped out but she still hesitated. ‘I… I shouldn’t!’
“’Why not?’ I asked her. ‘Remember? I’m a werewolf. I’ll heal! Let yourself go. Everyone needs to do that every now and then.’
“I’ve got a better idea why vampires are having an easier time fitting in to noral society than we are. Having a vampire feed on you is… Well, it’s hard to describe. It hurts a bit at first but then it becomes really intimate. It’s not like sex, but it’s just as intimate.
“After a few minutes, it dawned on us that Luke was still in the room watching us. It was almost embarrassing. Kind of like being in college and having your roommate ignore the tie you left on the door knob and walked in at the wrong time. But Luke was embarrassed by it. Hell, he was busy scribbling in a notebook and muttering, ‘This is great stuff!’
“I won’t go over everything that happened afterwards, but get this. Luke’s going to write that screenplay we want! He’s going to put vampires in it, too, which makes sense considering his sister is one. It’s going to be about how alienated both groups are from normal society. I didn’t even have to give Luke ALPS to get him started! And I met a wonderful girl at the same time!
“I love it when a plan comes together!”
Sunday, December 7, 2008
A Call to Reason
(The following editorial appeared in the Sunday, December 7th edition of the Miami Herald.)
by Michael Zevon
Imprisoning civilians? Mass quarantines? Targeting minorities?
It sounds like a nightmare straight from the dark days of Stalin’s purges - but if a certain uninformed and overwrought segment of our nation gets their way, these atrocities could soon be taking place right here in America. Who knows – someone in your family might be targeted!
Now, what would bring this attack on a sub-set of America? Who do you think these new “criminals” would be? Illegal immigrants? Terror suspects?
Far from it! Rather, some elitists are focusing their fear and hatred on the sufferers of a rare and hard-to-spread disease – Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome (ALPS).
Yes, we’ve heard the stories. That people living with ALPS turn “violent” or somehow transform into “werewolves” or “killing machines.” Granted, there have been some minor incidents. But that needn’t mean that ALPS victims need to be treated with contempt! Quite the opposite. The men and women that struggle with this disease, and indeed any other disease, need an extra dose of care! How about showing some compassion? Maybe even a little love? A little education and awareness go a long way. In this age of supposed tolerance, shouldn’t we be over the prejudices of the past?
Apparently some aren’t. For example, consider this quote from the editors of the Chicago Tribune: “Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.” (Nov. 30th, 2008)
Unbelievable! Interment? This is not WWII! We’re talking about our fellow Americans. Our neighbors. Our friends. Not our enemies.
No wonder ALPS sufferers are reluctant to share their struggles! Would you if you were afraid of discrimination… or even of being put behind bars… just because you have some occasional hard-to-control symptoms? Certainly not!
It’s time to stop the madness. Ask yourself – is this or is this not a free country? Those in power have already damaged their credibility through anti-freedom legislation such as the Patriot Act. It’s time to stop finding new targets and start returning to the freedoms on which this nation was founded.
Or one day we may all wake up in chains.
by Michael Zevon
Imprisoning civilians? Mass quarantines? Targeting minorities?
It sounds like a nightmare straight from the dark days of Stalin’s purges - but if a certain uninformed and overwrought segment of our nation gets their way, these atrocities could soon be taking place right here in America. Who knows – someone in your family might be targeted!
Now, what would bring this attack on a sub-set of America? Who do you think these new “criminals” would be? Illegal immigrants? Terror suspects?
Far from it! Rather, some elitists are focusing their fear and hatred on the sufferers of a rare and hard-to-spread disease – Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome (ALPS).
Yes, we’ve heard the stories. That people living with ALPS turn “violent” or somehow transform into “werewolves” or “killing machines.” Granted, there have been some minor incidents. But that needn’t mean that ALPS victims need to be treated with contempt! Quite the opposite. The men and women that struggle with this disease, and indeed any other disease, need an extra dose of care! How about showing some compassion? Maybe even a little love? A little education and awareness go a long way. In this age of supposed tolerance, shouldn’t we be over the prejudices of the past?
Apparently some aren’t. For example, consider this quote from the editors of the Chicago Tribune: “Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.” (Nov. 30th, 2008)
Unbelievable! Interment? This is not WWII! We’re talking about our fellow Americans. Our neighbors. Our friends. Not our enemies.
No wonder ALPS sufferers are reluctant to share their struggles! Would you if you were afraid of discrimination… or even of being put behind bars… just because you have some occasional hard-to-control symptoms? Certainly not!
It’s time to stop the madness. Ask yourself – is this or is this not a free country? Those in power have already damaged their credibility through anti-freedom legislation such as the Patriot Act. It’s time to stop finding new targets and start returning to the freedoms on which this nation was founded.
Or one day we may all wake up in chains.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Until a Cure Is Found
(The following editorial appeared in the Sunday, November 30, edition of the Chicago Tribune):
The McCarthy Park Massacre. All of our readers are, by now, thoroughly familiar with this unfortunate incident. All of our readers know the world of journalism lost Les Nesman in the Massacre. All of our readers know of the call from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) for a criminal investigation into publishing giant Rampant Loon’s role in the Massacre; a call the editors second most heartily. Despite the immediacy of these stories, they serve only to misdirect attention from the true issue.
What is to be done with those who have contracted Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome, or ALPS as it is called in the popular press?
The editors are second to none in their compassion for the poor souls who, through no fault of their own, have contracted this dread disease. But compassion must be tempered with caution. Unlike cancer or AIDS, those who suffer from ALPS are a threat to the community around them. We fully understand that these wretched individuals are not to blame for their rampages. We fully understand their bestial alter egos are beyond their control. But we also fully understand the citizens of this city, this state, this country deserve to walk the streets without fear of attack.
Consider the toll paid in the McCarthy Park Massacre:
- Les Nesman, news reporter for NPR station WWSL
- George Sweeny, cameraman for WWSL TV
- Two pedestrians, identities still unknown
- 62 turkeys
- An unknown number of pigeons and squirrels
This toll is too high to pay once, yet similar stories are found in city after city across this great land of ours.
Therefore, the editors call upon the federal government to step forward and take ownership of problem. Until a cure is found, we call upon President-Elect Obama to put an end to the fear and horror. Until a cure is found, we call for a real War on Terror, a war on the terror ALPS brings to communities large and small, rich and poor, urban and rural. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to protect our husbands and wives, our sons and daughters. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.
It's for the children.
The McCarthy Park Massacre. All of our readers are, by now, thoroughly familiar with this unfortunate incident. All of our readers know the world of journalism lost Les Nesman in the Massacre. All of our readers know of the call from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) for a criminal investigation into publishing giant Rampant Loon’s role in the Massacre; a call the editors second most heartily. Despite the immediacy of these stories, they serve only to misdirect attention from the true issue.
What is to be done with those who have contracted Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome, or ALPS as it is called in the popular press?
The editors are second to none in their compassion for the poor souls who, through no fault of their own, have contracted this dread disease. But compassion must be tempered with caution. Unlike cancer or AIDS, those who suffer from ALPS are a threat to the community around them. We fully understand that these wretched individuals are not to blame for their rampages. We fully understand their bestial alter egos are beyond their control. But we also fully understand the citizens of this city, this state, this country deserve to walk the streets without fear of attack.
Consider the toll paid in the McCarthy Park Massacre:
- Les Nesman, news reporter for NPR station WWSL
- George Sweeny, cameraman for WWSL TV
- Two pedestrians, identities still unknown
- 62 turkeys
- An unknown number of pigeons and squirrels
This toll is too high to pay once, yet similar stories are found in city after city across this great land of ours.
Therefore, the editors call upon the federal government to step forward and take ownership of problem. Until a cure is found, we call upon President-Elect Obama to put an end to the fear and horror. Until a cure is found, we call for a real War on Terror, a war on the terror ALPS brings to communities large and small, rich and poor, urban and rural. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to protect our husbands and wives, our sons and daughters. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.
It's for the children.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
