Saturday, November 12, 2016

Premonition

It started happening sometime in middle school.  I saw someone on TV and I knew he was going to die. “Who’s that?” I asked.

“That’s ONLY Kurt Cobain,” my older sister answered, her voice dripping with scorn.  But by that time I was already distracted by the sudden overwhelming realization that the other person on the screen (Cobain’s wife, I later learned) was incredibly hot.

And four days later the lead singer of Nirvana had a bullet in his brain.

After that, these flashes of insight kept happening, although not with any kind of predictability.  I’d see someone, and get a strong feeling that they’d be dead soon.  Sometimes, it would be someone I saw on the street, sometimes on TV or the movie screen.  At first I tried telling my parents about it - that sure didn’t last long.  It was bad when they thought I was lying, but horrible when they started to think I wasn’t.

Once I got the feeling about my algebra teacher.  I faked flu symptoms for a week; I couldn’t face her every day knowing what was coming but not when or how.  Or why.  Mrs. Davidson was a favorite teacher.  She had a heart attack that Friday.  She was 43.

But that sick feeling was nothing compared to the time I got my “death sense” in the middle of a makeout session with Stacy Miller.  Stacy’s car got hit by drunk driver the next weekend.  After that, I kept to myself.  A lot.

I spent a lot of the time I wasn’t out having fun, on the computer.  This was early in the Internet, so there weren’t as many pictures (less chance of me seeing a lot of faces), but there were a lot of usenet groups.  Eventually I learned about dead pools.  Not the Marvel character - actual betting pools on when a certain celebrity was going to die.

Morbid?  You bet.  But for a second sibling with a meager allowance, college coming up soon, and a unique…talent…well, a big light bulb might as well have appeared above my head, is all I’m saying.
I started leafing through the magazines at the checkout counters, and in a couple of days had my first bet placed, for five bucks.  Six months later I was banned from most of the pools and had to start making fake account names.  Turns out nobody likes it when you’re never wrong.  I thought I was covering my tracks pretty good though.

I was wrong.

Summer after senior year, the summer I’m supposed to be having fun, getting ready to go off to college, I get this PGP-encrypted email.  When I opened it up, it looked like another dead pool, only I didn’t recognize any of the names on it.  A lot of them looked Russian, to me, anyway.  Okay, so somebody wants me to pick some Russian celebrity who’s gonna die.  I wrote back.  "I don’t know any of those guys. You got any faces to go with the names?“

In a few minutes, I get a picture for every name on the list, and there’s a number too…are those the payouts?  These numbers are huge!

I scrolled down the mail, and halfway through one of them set off my death sense.  Before I got to the end, another one.  I mailed in my picks, and forgot it.

And then six days later, there’s another PGP email, but this one says a lot more.
Incredible work. The boss compliments you.
Your fee is in the account listed below.
Change the password.
Wtf?

There were two links in the email.  One link lead to a news article about someone dying of food poisoning.  The other was about a guy killed in some prison fight.  Both of them were suspected of having ties to the freaking Russian Mafia.  There were pictures.  Both of them the guys I picked.
I checked the bank account, and learned that I was sitting on thousands.  More than my 18-year-old self knew what to do with, and it scared me.  But, what had I done, really?  I mean, betting in dead pools isn’t illegal.  So, I changed the account password.

By the time I started college, I figured out what was going on.  Whoever was sending these emails thought that they were hiring me for hit jobs.  They must have thought that I was really picky or something!  I’d get some names and faces once in a while, and if I got a tingle off one of them, somebody chokes on a chicken sandwich, then I got a payday, otherwise I’d just say, nah, not working this month.  Really, the hard part was figuring out how to enjoy having money without attracting attention.  I decided that pre-law and just might be a good plan for me.

What I’m saying here is, I had a pretty good freshman year.  I mean, yeah, I still didn’t socialize much, but by this time I was mostly okay with that, and the death was kind of…removed.
Then one final email arrived from my mysterious benefactor.
Lay low. There’s a contract on you.
A contract.  On me.  No, this couldn’t be real.  In a daze, I shuffled to the bathroom and flicked on the light, caught my reflection in the mirror.  And screamed. 

Mom, Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to tell you all this when I was younger.  I want you to know that I’m going to try to fight it.  I’ve bought a fake ID, a gun, a fast car, and emptied that account.  I kept some money, enough for a week of running.  You should get a wire with the rest soon.

 I checked all your pictures.  You and Sis are all okay.  For at least seven days.  Love you.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Not The Same

Something I'd like people to think about when they start to think that both political parties are the same.

Only one party is pushing voter ID laws.

Only one party is closing down polling sites.

Only one party is purging the lists of registered voters.

Both are guilty of gerrymandering, but one is much, much better at it.

Only one party is trying to limit voting hours.

Only one party is trying to limit or even eliminate early voting.

Only one party has a standing court order forbidding them from sending out private poll watchers to intimidate voters-- and only one candidate is trying to do exactly that.

In short, my friends, one party - the Republican party - absolutely hates it when you vote.  The representatives of that party do everything in their power to nullify elections that to not go their way, to block the elected representatives of any party other than their own. 

And that should give you pause. 

Saturday, November 5, 2016

Encounter with a Demon

As the last of the party entered the chamber, the doors swung closed with a deafening bang.  A great winged demon grinned down at the pathetic band of adventurers.   “Clever little ones,” it rumbled.  “Found my prison.  Now hear the penalty.”

“Choose one to appease my appetite and the rest of you may leave.  Or choose a champion to fight me.  If that champion defeats me, then all live.  If not, then I go free.  Those are the conditions of my imprisonment.”

The party glanced at one another uneasily.  None of them could fight this creature and they all knew it.  Youth and ingenuity they possessed; experience and lore they had not yet had time to accumulate.
Sarina and Kimberly, the warrior twins, did not fear death, but rather the prospect of living without the other.  Mercedes and Lingst, mage and mage/thief newly wed, felt much the same way.   Derek looked among them, and realized that this must be his own test of faith.  “Very well, demon, “ he began.

“It should be me,” Mercedes interrupted decisively.  “I solved the puzzle that opened this door, I should be the sacrifice.”

“NO!” cried Lingst.  “I’ll can’t let you do that!”

The demon growled.  “I grow impatient–”

“Stay out of this,” commanded the mage, eyes flashing.  The demon, taken aback by her audacity, actually fell silent.  Turning to her husband, Mercedes said, “It’s my decision.”

“Not if I volunteer first!” he rejoined.  The demon observed the argument as one might a tennis match as the couple became more animated, voices raised and arms gesticulating wildly.

“You can’t volunteer first, I already did!”

“No, I volunteer!”

“I do!”

Lingst whirled to face the towering monstrosity, arm outstretched, and cast the only spell he knew.  “SLEEP!”

A deep gravelly chuckle came from the creature.  Slowly the chuckle grew into a throaty laugh.  Soon the demon’s belly began to shake, and before long the chamber rang with its uproarious roars and snorts of glee.

Suddenly the laughter stopped, and a puzzled expression crossed the demon’s ugly features.  Its face changed color from bright red, to deep purple.  It started to convulse.

The demon was choking on its own phlegm.

Everyone backed away as far as the walls would allow as the giant winged thing thrashed across the floor, fighting for air.  Finally all movement ceased.

Sunlight poured in as the doors of the arcane prison opened.