Friday
After driving six hours from Chicago, Joe Smoltz arrived at the Splendent Hotel. It was Friday night. An intense two days of meetings would start first thing in the morning. As the Midwest manager of a national chain of appliance stores, he was required to attend the annual “Strategic Management” sessions. The four area managers, when gathered at a bar after previous sessions, called them “Pat ‘em on the head and kick ‘em in the butt” meetings, as the sessions would invariably come down to putting fire in the bellies of the managers with the owner’s version of “Strategic Management”.
Joe found the hotel, an austere looking ten-story structure, in the middle of a high-tech office park. He parked his car and walked into the lobby. The first thing he noticed was the utter cheerlessness of the place. It was like he had walked inside a cube, a sterile cube. The white-walled two-story lobby was empty except for a few chairs, a front desk and a staircase. The massive window on the street side framed the skeletal form of another ten-story building being constructed across the street from the hotel. In the middle of the lobby was a staircase to the second floor. Its design looked as if it had been taken from an Escher drawing. The huge spare lobby had no flair and no ornamentation. There was not a plant or tree in sight. There was only floor, bare walls and the massive windows offering a view unworthy of the windows. One painting, a swoosh of color, hung above the front desk. The place looked familiar to Joe. The owner had chosen similar-styled hotels in the past for their annual meetings. The octogenarian was all business, just like the hotels he chose for their meetings.
“Ugh! Let’s get this over with,” Joe grumbled.
After checking in, Joe rolled his suitcase over to the elevators. The four elevator shafts at the center of the atrium were a vertical column within a four-sided stack of rooms. Between the elevator doors was a sign: “Elevator Testing Today”. That is odd, he thought. “What am I supposed to do with that information? Is something going to happen? Will I be stuck in this thing? What if I one of my service guys went over to a customer’s house and placed a “Dryer Testing Today” sign on one of our customer’s dryer and then he left with no further instructions?”
He thought for a moment and then smiled.
“That would be a great slogan for our stores: “We don’t leave our customers hanging out to dry. No Doubt Dependability!”
Joe pressed the up arrow. He got in the opened elevator and pressed “7”. The elevator closed its doors and began to shuttle him upwards. “Oh, thank God!” he thought, “No elevator music.”
“Hello Joe. Remember me? You’ve led a lousy life Joe. A lousy life. Three marriages and three divorces and countless sexual affairs. Your kids want nothing to do with you. Endless frustration with your lack of self-control. A lousy life, Joe. A lousy life. Go to the tenth floor and …”
Joe shook his head the voice stopped. “You again. Go away! All that is behind me now. I am a different man.”
The elevator door opened on the seventh floor. Joe got out and looked back at the elevator. “Go back to where you came from.”
Joe walked to his room, limping and his head whirring. The constant white-noise chirring in his head began about two months ago. He had thought at the time that the incessant hissing might just be an electrical noise from one of his appliances at home. But when he left the house and sat in his car, the intruding hiss was there. And, it was loud. Joe didn’t know why it had started. All he could do was name it: Tinnitus. And, his knee? The bone doctor couldn’t offer any precise explanation for what was going on with his knee.
“It could be arthritis” he was told after the doctor had taken X-rays and found nothing affecting Joe’s left knee. “Unspecified Chronicity” was written on the exit form. Joe was given a script for an anti-inflammatory pain killer and an order for physical therapy. “The body gives no senior discounts,” Joe thought when he left the doctor’s office, expecting another medical bill.
Using the pass key, Joe opened the door to his room and switched on the light. The hotel room had the same stiff angular character he had seen before in the hotel rooms booked for him for his annual meetings. Lines and boxes. A black credenza ran the length of one wall, from the entrance closet to the curtain. At the curtain end was an angular lamp with a USB charging port. To fill the void above the credenza there was an 85” large screen TV.
“Let’s get this over with.” Joe placed his suitcase on the credenza and hung up his sport coat and pants.
After washing his face, Joe reviewed the hotel services menu on the TV. There was a restaurant and bar just off the hotel lobby. He put on a sport coat and went out to the elevator.
When the one of the elevators arrived, he walked in and pressed “L”. The doors shut and the elevator proceeded down.
“You’ve led a lousy life joe. A lousy life. Three marriages and three divorces and countless sexual escapades. Remember the affair you had with the youth pastor’s wife. And, right in the parsonage? What do you have to live for? This lousy sales job?”
Joe’s tinnitus did nothing to block the disturbing noise in his head. He shook his head and looked at his watch. Maybe the other sales managers had arrived and they would be at the bar.
The dining room was empty except for the rather rotund woman tending the bar. She was leaning against the back bar. Her arms were folded across her chest and she had a scowl on her face. Above her, like three thought bubbles of “Clash”, were three muted large screen TVs showing college football games and a NASCAR race. Joe sat down and ordered a bourbon straight up and a sandwich.
Earlier in his life he would have judged the woman, thinking her repulsive and not worth his time. He would have assumed that the scowl on her face was her way of saying ‘Don’t put me in a box. Don’t mess with me. I’ve been through enough’.
But now, Joe reserved judgement only for himself. He saw her as a woman who needed a mirror that reflected more than this world has to offer.
Joe took a sip of his drink and looked around. The restaurant bar area had the same stark quality as the lobby. There was no artwork and no plants, only space with boxy fixtures against white walls. “A coat of Warm Apricot would warm up this place.”
Beyond the rectangular bar, square tables with stiff chairs were set along the right angle of two banks of windows. The windows faced the same new construction as the lobby. Another ten-story layer of containers being built for get-in-and-get-out business just like this hotel. Joe thought.
The bartender placed the sandwich before Joe. She released her scowl for her only customer. “What brings you to Splendent?”
“I’m here for the annual sales meeting. I am the Midwest manager for a chain of appliance stores.” Joe looked at her. She could see that his eyes were bloodshot.
“Did you come along way?”
“I drove from Chicago. It rained the whole way. My name’s Joe.” He put out his hand.
“Amanda.” The woman reached across the bar and shook his hand.
Joe couldn’t help notice her bare shoulders and the black lace top with sleeves that reminded him of bats. A skull tattoo was on the back of her hand.
“Amanda. That’s a pretty name.” Joe winked at the woman and she squeezed out a smile.
At that moment an Asian couple came into the bar and asked for a table. Amanda told them “Sit anywhere you like.”
Both Joe and Amanda stared at the couple. The young man was wearing a black sport coat and tie and black slacks. The young women wore a black skimpy dress that barely covered her bottom. She was taller than the young man. Her six-inch heels made it so. Both Joe and Amanda looked away when the couple turned and asked for a menu.
Joe finished his sandwich and his drink. He paid his tab and asked Amanda if she was working the rest of the weekend. She said she was. He handed her his business card. “If you need an appliance, I can set you up. I have a store in the area.” Amanda thanked Joe and said that her mom might be interested.
“I also have friends in the paint business. So, if your mom needs to redecorate, I can get her a good price on several gallons of paint.” Amanda looked at Joe and wondered if he was being nice to her so he could sell her something.” She thanked him and put the card in her purse.
Joe got up and grimaced as he placed weight on his knee. He wished Amanda a good night. “Amanda, that’s a pretty name.” He left her a handsome tip.
Joe found his way to the elevator and saw that the “Elevator Testing Today” sign was still there. “Hmmm. Let’s get this over with.” Joe pressed the up button and an elevator door opened. He got in and pressed “7”. The doors closed and the elevator began to shuttle upward.
“Go on Joe. Invite Amanda to your room. She is sweet on you. Did you see how she looked at you when you said her name? It’s been years since you were with a woman. You owe it to yourself. Anyone can go to their room and watch porn. Hook up with Amanda and you’ll have at least one relationship in your sorry life.”
Joe looked over the elevator. “What is it with this contraption? I’ve had plenty of people telling me how I should live my ‘sorry’ life. Do this, be this and not that. And now this elevator from hell. Argh!”
The door opened and Joe limped over to his room. He went in. The constant chirring in his head, the electric hiss, was the only sound he heard. He got undressed and turned on the TV.
After searching for something watchable he found a western. He watched Shane until his eyes closed and sleep and the pain pill overtook him.
Saturday
The alarm sounded at 6 AM. Joe shut off the alarm and sat up. “Let’s get this over with.” He got up, showered and dressed for his meeting. He went down to the breakfast buffet where he met Haze the restaurant manager. She was a likeable young woman with a nose ring. She asked Joe if he was enjoying his stay. “Its had its ups and downs so far.” Joe chuckled and decided not to go into detail. “The buffet looks good and the service so far is great. Hazel, Huh? I haven’t heard that name in a long time. I like it.”
Joe filled his plate and sat back down. He hadn’t seen the other managers yet. He wondered if they would arrive this morning. He would have liked to talk with them before the meeting and gauge the atmosphere he would be walking into. Sales had plateaued in his market and that would not go over well. He pondered how he would present his numbers. Two of the managers, the west coast and east coast managers, were vying to become national sales manager. They would cozy up to the owners again this year. Joe had no interest in the position. It meant more travel and being away from home. His only ambition, as he told himself over and over again, was to keep from screwing up his life any more than he already had.
“… I was no angel, that’s for sure. I didn’t know any PK who was. Even Peter, adopted by the Lord, denied him three times. I did the same in my three failed marriages.” Joe felt self-disgust rise up in his stomach. “I had to sit through all of dad’s sermons. Never-ending sermons about never-ending judgment. Getting numbers of people saved from judgment was his business. I wanted to be saved from the sermons and the judgment that grew in the hearts of those who heard the sermons, like that woman who scolded me with “Fly right!” after she learned that dad’s little angel had messed up his first marriage. There was no clemency for a PK, especially not for one who squirmed outside the bounds set by the mini providences surrounding me. They still surround me. Little wonder that I responded with anger and rebellion and with the same black and white judgment of those around me.”
Joe looked at his watch. He had another hour before the meeting started. He got up and grabbed another plate of food and sat down. Haze brought him some more coffee. As she poured a young couple with two children came in and reviewed the buffet.
“Have any kids, Haze?”
“Not yet.” Haze walked over and welcomed the family. Joe returned to his thoughts.
“Mothers birth boys and Fathers birth men,” is what dad often said from the pulpit. But dad didn’t birth me the man. But I understand dad. He was day and night busy with the church …. I followed in his footsteps. But not as a minster, whoa! never as a minster, unless you can call selling a coat of paint as redemption for one’s home and selling a new a washer as salvation from unwashed clothes. Work your passions, work for your family…”
Joe checked his watch again. It was time to head over to the meeting.
Outside the conference room a small buffet was set up with coffee and sweet rolls. Inside the room was a chalk board and an easel pad. The west coast and east coast managers were huddled around the owner and apparently sharing funny stories, as the they both laughed at each other. Someone was writing the day’s agenda on the pad.
The south manager walked over from the elevator and came up to Joe. “What the heck is going on with the elevator, Joe? What does Elevator Testing mean?
“Stick around and you may find out.” Joe shook Roy Lee’s hand. “When ‘d you arrive?”
“Just this morning. I wanted to fly out last night but my flight from Atlanta was constantly delayed due to heavy storms in the area.”
“You ready for the next storm?” Joe nodded toward the conference room.
“My numbers are not stellar. How about yours?
“Same. We better go in and get this over with.” Joe led the way into the room. He greeted the owner and company’s namesake, Archibald Whitlock Sr.
“How are you Mr. Whitlock?”
“Call me Archie Joe. Every year I tell you the same thing. Call me Archie.”
“You’re right, Archie.” Joe turned to greet the other two managers who had taken seats on each side of Archie.
At the table the managers began sharing brief personal updates about family. Joe shared that he waiting to become a grandfather now that all his kids were married. And, that he bought a parrot to keep him company.
Taylor, the west coast manager, burst out laughing. “A parrot? Wow! I bet you have interesting conversations with the bird.”
Joe retorted. “Perot can say Archie Appliances.” With that the owner smiled and called the meeting to order.
Archie began with a greeting and introduced his son Archie Jr., “the company’s new national sales manager”. West Coast and East Coast looked at each other with an expression of “How can this be?” Joe thought the announcement a pat on the head for Archie Jr. and a kick in the pants for those two.
Archie Jr. had a Rod McKuen look about him. Beneath his disheveled sandy blond hair, he bore a melancholic disposition. He wore a turtle neck and sport coat and slacks that must have just been pulled out of the dryer. By his looks it would be hard to take him seriously. Here was Joes’ National Sales Manager and his new boss.
Archie Jr. was handed the meeting by Archie Sr. In a slow ponderous voice, Archie Jr. began by pointing at each word on the flip chart as he spoke it. “Where …Are … We …At?”
“This will be a long day,” Joe thought, “a long lousy day”. The three other managers looked pale and antsy. West coast threw his pen on the table before him. East coast stared at the wall biting his lip. South furrowed his brow and began straightening a paper clip. “When was the next break?” was on each of their minds.
During that morning session that droned on for what seemed a lifetime, the managers learned that Archie Jr.’s background was in finance. He was a numbers guy. And, by the look of his trousers, Joe thought, he didn’t know squat about what they were selling. He didn’t know about the Archie No-Wrinkle Dryer. Joe realized where his thoughts were going and stopped them. He withheld any more judgment, as he had been wrong about so many things in the past.
Then came an endless array of pie charts and Joe grew rankled. He hated meetings to begin with. But pie charts? The business of sales was a relationship between people and not between a red slice of pie and a blue slice of pie. People – him and his customers – don’t belong in pie charts. These charts were like the porn he used to take in – objectifying. Joe sat through the presentation of graphs and charts passively engaged. A growing disdain welled up in him at the thought of his work, his passion, being reduced to a cut and paste graphic.
The group broke for lunch. The managers almost ran out of the room. Each hurried to a quiet corner of the atrium to make phone calls to their stores. After the calls they searched the internet for “Archibald Whitlock Jr.” Their area reports would be required in afternoon session. What else did they need to be prepared for?
Joe went outside for a walk. The conference room had become suffocating. Outside, the whirring in Joe’s head was replaced with the sounds of traffic and construction. Autumn wind buffeted his ears and blew construction dust into his eyes.
Joe had a lot to think about. Archie Sr., who grumbled about every nickel and dime spent, would still ask the managers, “Do you need anything?” But now Sr. was taking a hard line through his numbers guru son who said “Here’s what numbers tell us.” Sr. was silent. Jr. had a spreadsheet. And Joe had prepared for the question “What do you need?”
After almost an hour of pacing the long sidewalk along the hotel Joe headed back to the conference room thinking Here ‘s what I need: Let’s get this over with.
The east coast manager, Charles, began the afternoon session. He had no charts. He passed out a handout showing each store’s numbers for the past year. There were stores that had improved sales and there were stores that were just getting by. He suggested that the slow down at the latter stores was due to many folks in his area dealing with job losses, rising housing costs and high sales and property taxes. He went on to suggest that financing options should be over two years instead of one. He sat down.
The south area manager, Roy Lee, also brought a handout showing his managed stores numbers. Like the east coast area, some stores’ revenue had bumped up and others had plateaued. He talked about the areas that had been hit by floods and hurricanes. Neighborhoods and houses were destroyed. Rebuilding was going on and there was a substantial need for their appliances. Agreeing with Charles, he stated that it was essential that their financing options should be over two years instead of one, as many folks had to wait for Federal assistance and insurance monies. He went on to say that keeping employees was a priority, as they knew the appliances and the customer base. He had to pay higher wages to keep them, thus cutting into the bottom line. He sat down.
Joe was up next. He began by congratulating Archie Jr. on his being selected as national sales manager. Archie Jr. perked up and looked over at Sr., who then winked at him in approval. The other managers nodded, barely moving their heads. Joe began, also passing out a handout.
“What these not-so-stellar figures don’t show are the number of satisfied and repeat customers we have. Warranty repairs costs are down. Customer satisfaction is up. We are getting good reviews online. The upside is that the customers in the Midwest are happy with their Archie Appliances. The downside is that because the appliances work so well repeat sales have long a long turnaround. So, for new sales, I am working with housing developers to have them place our appliances in new homes.
Joe then proposed refrigerator magnets with an 800 number and the slogan: “We don’t leave you hanging out to dry. Appliances and Service You Can Depend on.”
He went on to say that he visited the factory in the past year to learn how the appliances are made and to hear firsthand about warranty issues. He said that he goes on installation and service calls as often as possible. He then turned his laptop screen to face the group. On it was a slide show of clients standing next to their appliances, all with big smiles. The last photo was of Perot. “And this is my communications director.” With that the three other managers moaned. Archie Sr. smiled once again. Archie Jr. looked perplexed at first and then he eked out a smile
Before he sat down, Joe said that he agreed with Charles, the East Coast manager, about the cost of living and making financing a priority. “The Chicago area, in particular, has very high property taxes. Many people are just getting by.” He turned to the South Area manager, Roy Lee, and said that he agreed with him about keeping experienced employees. He stated that employee satisfaction was just as important as customer satisfaction. Wages also had to go up in his area. Joe sat down.
The west coast manager, Taylor stood up. “How do I follow Perot? Good points, each of you. Here are my numbers.” He proceeded to pass out his report.
“I’ve included a forecast for this next year. The demographics of my area show many lower income folks are moving into the middle class in the areas I listed. The federal tax break has given them some buying power. As they move up, they want to upgrade and buy appliances. The financing Charles and Roy Lee both mentioned is essential for my customers. They want to build their credit rating. By giving them flexibility in financing that can happen. We should also update our nationally televised commercial. My wife Betty says it lacks verve. Maybe the commercial can say “You know you have arrived with Archie in your home”. The spokesperson could be a butler named Archie and there is a cartoon parrot which says “Archie Appliances at your service.”
Joe said a loud “Yes!” Charles was excited too. “Yeah, that might work. There are plenty of annoying spokespeople on commercials right now. But, adding an animal would make sense. People love animals.” Roy Lee saw his chance to voice his approval. “What we have on TV now is a failure to communicate.” The group looked at Archie Sr.to see his reaction. His face unchanged, Sr. looked over at his son. Jr. was biting his lip. No comment.
Taylor continued.
“I like what Joe said about the housing developer market. That will bring new sales. They will of course want discounting for the quantities involved. And, Roy Lee, you are right about our employees. Perhaps we can offer them help with regard to health insurance. We should be able to work with a health care provider to lower our costs because of the number of employees we have nationwide. I see growth but it will take some new initiatives to make it happen. Taylor sat down.
Archie Sr. stood up. “Thank you for your reports and your comments. You have given me a lot to think about. How about you Archie?”
“I learned a lot today. I have a lot to think about.”
Archie Sr. adjourned the meeting by saying that tomorrow his son would present a solution to one of the issues addressed that afternoon. Outside the conference room, the managers gathered in one corner of the atrium to talk about the night’s agenda: dinner and then a gentleman’s club. Joe said, “No, thanks. Been there, done that.” He’d see them in the morning.
Joe returned to the conference room to talk to Archie Jr. Archie Sr. came over to Joe.
“Joe, I was impressed by your presentation.”
“Thank you, Archie.”
“Joe, I’m getting too old for this game. Today proved to me again that my ways are …dated. Fifty years ago my passion was to own my own business. I worked all kinds of hours to grow this company. And, I had to provide for a growing family. So, I didn’t have much time to fool around, as they say. I was very demanding of those around me. Failure was not an option. Archie, here, took the brunt of my time away from home. And now I’m a tough old codger who can’t change my ways …Well, you know me and the background of this company, Joe. I’ve told startup story hundreds of times. I brought Archie on to pass the mantel to him when I retire in six months. I would like you to take him under your wing and show him the day-to-day business during this time.”
Joe watched Archie Sr. put his hand on his son’s shoulder. Was he asking Joe to birth the man?
“I’d be happy to, Archie. In fact, I came back to ask him to come to Chicago and spend some time at the stores there. We can also take a trip to the factory in Indiana. I can show him how we build what we sell. He can meet the people who build our appliances. He can see firsthand what goes into the manufacturing costs.”
“Excellent. Archie, you up for that?’
Jr. looked at both men and saw them looking back at him. “Yes, sir.”
Joe then asked Jr. if he would like to join him for a drink later. Jr. said he would. Joe, famished from not eating lunch, dismissed himself.
“See you in the AM Archie. I’ll see you later Archie.” Joe walked over to the bank of elevators. He noticed the “Elevator Testing” sign was still there. He walked over to the front desk.
“Are they still testing the elevators?’
The woman at the front desk said she would call her manager and find out why the sign was still there. Joe thanked her and returned to the elevator. “Let’s get this over with.”
Joe pressed the up button and a door opened. He got in and the door closed and began its shuttle upward.
“Joe, remember all the times you spent at gentleman’s club …the times you enjoyed women and wanted them. Remember the lap dances and the prostitutes you made love to. Go on. Go out with those guys, Joe. Nobody will know. Besides, all you have in your life is a parrot. This guy you are meeting later is a milquetoast. You need to be around real men. Go on, joe. Go on. It is normal. You need it.”
The elevator opened on the seventh floor. Joe got out. The whirring white noise in his head was oddly comforting to him right now. In his room he washed his face and changed his shirt. All he could think of was eating, so he hurried and went out. A cacophony of voices rose up from below. He looked over the railing.
On the atrium floor entourages in colors chosen by brides and newly-classified monochromatic men converged. It was Saturday night and marriage receptions were taking place. It occurred to Joe that on every Saturday night of his annual meetings, wedding receptions took place in the hotels chosen by Archie Sr. Was it coincidence?
He took the elevator down. Some the wedding party rode with him, thankfully, Joe thought.
Crossing the lobby Joe saw Archie Sr. sitting in a chair. His Wall Street Journal was lowered. He was taking in the flourishes of human activity surrounding him. Joe only knew Archie Sr. from their annual meetings and his phone calls to Joe. This was new impression of Archie and made Joe rethink his boss in terms of being human. Apparently, the prosaic old codger needed more than numbers could supply.
As Joe crossed the lobby he noticed signs posted. “Welcome to the Reception of the Nuygens” “Welcome to the Reception of the Hobarts” “Welcome to the Reception of the Clivens. The Splendent was no longer an empty shell.
Joe’s stomach growled loudly. He entered the bar and sat down. Amanda greeted him with a drink napkin.
“Long day? Bourbon up?”
“Yeah, yes, please. It started out lousy but things turned around. One more meeting and I’m going home.”
“Where’s home?
“Chicago.”
“I’ve heard they have great pizza there.”
“Yeah, great pizza and great hot dogs. You can tell by my potbelly. Say, something is different about you”
“I changed my hair. It was black and I returned it to its natural red. I asked the hairdresser to give me a more relaxed look. I thought I looked a little too severe before.”
“It’s a great look for you, and that smile wasn’t there last night.”
“Yeah, change for the better. What can I get you?’
“I’ll have the rib-eye and a cup of soup.”
“Coming up.”
Joe looked around. An older couple sat at a bar table watching the football games on the screens above the back bar. Other than the couple the place was empty. Sitting there it was easy for him to recall the many times he sat in bars alone during his road trips. It was easy for him to recall what he did when felt isolated and alone. Thinking about It made him sick inside and anxious to get home and back to work.
He checked his phone and found a message from Kim. She sold a washer/dryer unit to a young couple. They were expecting to meet Joe when it arrived at their home. Here was something he could bring to the table tomorrow.
Amanda brought his drink and said she would return with the soup.
The bourbon, double-oaked, went down smooth. Sitting and the strong drink helped to lessen the pain in his knee. He had hobbled from his room to the bar. The soup arrived and Joe asked for another bourbon. After a couple of minutes, the steak arrived. He had to slow his eating. He was so hungry he had woofed down his soup.
As he finished up, Archie Jr. arrived and sat down next to Joe.
“Did you eat, Archie?”
“Yes. Thanks. I went to dinner with dad …someplace nearby.”
Amanda placed a drink napkin in front of Archie. “What can I get you?”
“A glass of Chardonnay, please.”
Well, Archie, your dad must have a lot of respect for you to make you the national sales manager and eventually the CEO.”
“Yeah, well, maybe. I am the oldest and my two younger brothers joined the Navy. So, to keep the business in the family, I was the chosen one. I was initially looking at a career in mergers and acquisitions.”
“Your financial background will be a boon for this company. Each of us managers are so busy making sales and running the store operations that the books are not given their due diligence. “
“Well, I have an idea that I will share tomorrow. I’ll want your feedback.”
“You’ll get it. By the way, how do you like this hotel?”
“It serves it purpose. There is nothing charming about. It is rather cold and business-like for my tastes. I see of a lot the same minimalist thing in LA. – expose the essence of a subject through eliminating all nonessential forms, features, or concepts. Minimalism uses the fewest elements to create the maximum effect.
“Are we the subject?”
“I think the architect is the subject.”
“Non-essential features? Like a coat of warm gray paint on the walls and terra-cotta floors?
“The colorless the better for the unforgiving minimalists.”
“Minimalist, that’s the term for it? How do you know this?”
“I read Architectural Digest. Architecture is kind of a hobby for me. Helps me to refocus. Numbers are unforgiving too. I like classical forms and not the stark boxes being built today. And, this hotel is the latter.”
“Fascinating. I have a lot to learn. Archie, I hate to cut this short but the steak I just ate is making sleepy. It was great getting to know you better. I better head up to my room and get to bed. I have a long drive home tomorrow after our meeting.”
“I appreciate your meeting me for a drink, Joe. I was fairly certain that the managers would be very upset by my father’s announcement.”
“Well, I, for one, think it is a change for the better. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that Joe paid his bill and told Amanda that it was nice meeting her. He then hobbled back to the elevator. The whirring in his head was replaced by the loud music coming from a wedding reception. The throbbing in his knee and the “Elevator Testing” sign were still there.
“Let’s get this over with.” Joe pressed the up button.
“Joe, Joe, lousy -life Joe. You want flair in your life. You can make it happen. Otherwise you might as well take your boring lousy life up to the tenth floor and toss it off. Your friends and family have abandoned you. You’re a worm in their eyes. They would have forgiven you if you were forgivable. The lousy life you led is unforgivable. You are left to your own devices now, Joe. Joe, Joe, lousy -life Joe.”
The elevator opened on the seventh floor. Joe exited and held the door open. “Your day is coming …minimalist.” Joe let go of the door. “Joe, Joe, lou …”
The party’s music reverberated up to the seventh floor. And we can build this dream together, Standing strong forever, Nothing’s gonna stop us … Nothing’s gonna stop us, nothing’s gonna stop us now.
In his room Joe took his pill and went to bed thinking about everything that transpired that day. Soon, thoughts of his past crept in … He didn’t need a voice to tell him that he had lived a lousy, roguish and profane life for many years. There was Joe by day and Joe by night for a long time. That was until he had a breakdown. Then he made long overdue changes …
That night he had a waking dream. He had committed suicide and knew that he would know he had committed suicide for eternity. Nurses would come and look at him in lying in bed. They would wrench their faces in horror and run in terror. Joe would sit up in bed and make faces at them and mouth words. But they couldn’t hear him and were scared off.
Joe woke up and looked around the room. Whirring. Only whirring. He laid his head back down and fell back to sleep.
Then another dream. Joe was on a stretcher being lowered down. His friends were lowering him down. When they stopped Joe felt a hand on his head and heard “Friend, your sins are forgiven. Get up and walk.” His friends were not happy at all. They wanted a different outcome. But Joe felt elated.
Then the alarm sounded.
Sunday
The next morning the hotel was still and the hiss in Joe’s ears pronounced. The wedding guests were sleeping. Joe opened the room’s curtains. He could see the boxes where people worked.
The coffee maker started Joe got in the shower. The dreams, both so vivid, colored his thoughts as he showered, shaved and dressed. He put on his sport coat and headed downstairs to the breakfast buffet.
Exiting the elevator, Joe took a few steps toward the lobby and then stopped. He turned and noticed that the “Elevator Testing” sign was gone. He went over to the front desk.
“I see that the “Elevator Testing” sign is gone.
The young woman at the front desk told Joe that someone had come early in the morning and had removed it. She was told that one of the elevator service men had left it behind on Friday after they tested the elevators. A lot of people had been asking about it, so her manager made a call last night.
Joe smiled and thanked her for taking care of it. He told her that he would be checking out later that morning. His next thought was breakfast. The smell of bacon was in the air.
At the breakfast buffet in a large room next to the bar Joe saw Haze. Her cheerful smile was a welcome sight.
“Good morning Joe. Coffee and orange juice?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Joe began to fill his plate. He decided that he wouldn’t eat again until he got home that evening.
Haze brought the coffee and juice to Joe’s table.
“You’re from Chicago?”
“Yes, do I look the part?”
Haze laughed. “No, Amanda told me. She mentioned that she got to know you the past couple of days.”
“Yes. We talked. I go to know her a bit.”
“She said that you sell appliances …Archie Appliances.”
“That’s right.” Joe pulled a business card from his coat pocket and handed it to Haze.
“Do you sell kitchen equipment to hotels? Corporate is building a new hotel near the airport next year.”
“Yes, we do. We offer commercial ranges, broilers, fryers, ice machines, freezers, hoods, ovens, bar refrigeration. Have them call me.” Joe handed her several cards. “We work onsite with the contractors who install the equipment. The website shows all of the equipment well offer. The prices shown are individual prices. We can bundle the equipment and offer a discount.”
“Wow! Thanks. I’ll pass it on. In our last meeting I told my manager that our chef was not happy with what he had to work with. Apparently, the last time, somebody had purchased the equipment without talking with him.”
“Here’s another card. Have the chef call me and we can talk about what he needs. Oh, and I have friends in the paint business. They can offer great paint at great prices. Have them call me and I can make it happen.”
“Will do. More coffee?” Joe said and yes and then noticed Charles and Roy Lee walk in. They looked in bad shape. A few moments later Taylor straggled in. All three looked hungover. Haze greeted them and asked if they would like a table. They noticed Joe and said that they would sit with him.
The three brought their plates of food over to Joe’s table and sat down.
Joe greeted them. “You guys look in bad shape. Did you paint the town last night?”
“Yeah,” Charles rubbed his forehead, “Taylor is on west coast time. He wanted to stay out later,”
“These annual meeting are killing me.” Roy Lee was pinching his temples.
“It was the five Southern Comforts you had at the club …” Taylor held his stomach until the nausea passed. “You were so lit up last night, Roy Lee, that you kept saying that you heard voices in the elevator. You …” Taylor stopped when the nausea came back. “Uhhhgg. Ishhhh-kabbible.”
Charles continued for him. “You freaked out when you saw that sign by the elevators. You said we were all gonna die if we took the elevator. You wanted to take the stairs up to the sixth floor.”
“I think I did die. I feel like death warmed over.” Roy Lee moaned.
Joe knew how they felt. He had had many mornings feeling as they did. But today, his head wasn’t pounding.
Haze came to the table and asked if they would like more coffee.
Joe said yes. And then seeing his chance to rub it in he said, “Maybe these guys would like a Bloody Mary.”
Each of them waved off the offer. Charles said, “Hell, no,” and continued.
“I am not looking forward to another meeting with our new National Sales Manager. The guy drones on and on.”
Taylor agreed. “I don’t think I can sit through another three hours of that guy. We are supposed to end at noon. We have planes to catch and, Joe, you have a long drive home.”
Roy Lee, who looked about ready to pass out, said they should tell Sr. that the three of them got food poisoning last night and maybe then Sr. would let them go early.
Taylor chided Roy Lee. “Maybe we can tell him that we all died in an elevator crash and that we just returned from the dead for the meeting.”
Joe laughed. “You guys look the part.”
While the other three were finishing their breakfast, Joe said he had to finish packing, He settled up with Haze and said goodbye.
“How was your stay, Joe?” Haze asked.
“The food was good. The service was great. The people here made all the difference. It was nice meeting you and Amanda. You have my card. I can come down and meet with your chef and corporate to talk about what they need. It was great meeting you.”
“It was nice meeting you, too,” Haze replied. “I hope your knee gets better.”
With that Joe hobbled back to the elevators and to his room. He packed his things and rolled his suitcase over by the door and headed downstairs for the nine-o’clock meeting.
At the conference room just off the atrium, Joe saw the same small buffet with coffee and sweet rolls just outside the room. He decided to pass on more food. Inside, Archie Sr. and Jr. stood talking. Nothing was written on the flip pad except a phone number.
When Joe walked into the room Archie Sr. greeted him. “Joe, how’d you sleep? The music was so loud I couldn’t until after two.”
“Yeah, the music was loud. But the pill I take for my knee must have knocked me out.”
“Knee trouble, huh? My wife’s got issues with her knees.”
Archie Sr., seeing his three managers dragging their feet as they walked across the atrium to the conference room, said, “The music must have bothered them, too. They look worn out” Archie Sr. looked over at Jr. “Maybe we should finish up early so these boys can be on their way and get some rest” Joe couldn’t help but smile.
With the four managers seated, the meeting commenced. Roy Lee sat with his elbows on the table and holding his head in his palms. Taylor sat back in his chair rubbing his stomach and looking at the trash can. Charles kept twisting his head and neck. Joe sat there trying not to look at the other three managers. If he did, he would break out laughing at the hilarious situation that Archie Sr. had presumed.
Archie Jr. began, this time sounding more self-assured.
“I heard what you said yesterday about financing. As you know large home improvement retailers sell everything from hardware and paint to appliances and yard goods. They offer a credit card and financing is handled through the card. The card keeps them coming back. I propose the same financing with an Archie Castle Card. ‘Castle’ because your home is your castle. The card could be used to purchase our appliances and could also be used to purchase home furnishings and remodeling at our other family stores, Archie Accents, run by my sister Analise.”
Joe interrupted. “That’s a great idea. And, I have a friend in the paint business. He has stores. Maybe his stores could be tied in with this card. Then a shopper could paint their castle.”
Archie Sr. looked over at Jr. “Check out what Joe is saying, Archie. We could bundle home purchases and roll out discounts and financing through the use of the card.”
“Will do.” Archie Jr. began again.
“I heard what you said about our TV commercial. It is rather lackluster. I will talk to our ad man and get something going. You guys will be the ones to approve it.”
Hearing this, the three otherwise silent managers perked up.
Charles took his hand from his temples to say “Now we’re talking!”
Archie Sr., seeing his three lethargic managers, told Jr. to keep going.
Jr. went on to talk about a health insurance plan that might work for their number of employees. He mentioned setting up the employees with an IRA and the company matching a percentage of the employee’s salary into their account. “Employees are our greatest asset. They know what we sell and they know the customers.” Jr. went on to talk about the sales numbers for the past year and to say “going forward, the numbers will take care of themselves if we do right by our customers and our employees.”
“Lastly, the number on the flip chart is my personal number. Call me with any concerns.”
Archie Sr. stood up and thanked his son. He walked around the table and shook the hand of each manager telling each one to “Work with my son. Give him the benefit of the doubt.” Then, to the group he said “Roy Lee has invited us to Charleston for next year’s meeting. I am looking forward to that. I’ll get some more golf in. Have a safe trip home.”
The four managers exchanged “goodbyes” and headed on their way. Joe went to his room, grabbed his suitcase and breathed a sigh of relief. The meetings were over. And, the hotel Roy Lee would pick would be quaint and comforting and not business as usual.
At check out Joe was asked about his stay. Joe commended Amanda and Haze for their great service.
Joe drove home with his head whirring, his knee throbbing and with fire in his belly. He would again drive past fields of corn and soy beans and wind turbines. He would once again pass the large black billboard with white letters that read, “HELL IS REAL”. Back in Chicago he would pick up Perot from his former paint business partner Bill, who watched the bird while Joe was away. He hoped Bill had not taught Perot any of his curse words. He really hoped that Bill had not taught Perot the pet name Bill once had for Joe: “Good times Joe”.
© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2019, All Rights Reserved
Shelf Life
January 16, 2022 Leave a comment
(Begin recording)
Ahem . . .
A dust collecting barge circling the globe is not the most exciting life. And, when I say “circling the globe”, I don’t mean chugging down Amsterdam canals one week and slogging down Bangkok Klongs the next. I mean orbiting the globe.
Dealing with circumplanetary dust – comet dust, asteroidal dust, interstellar dust, floating paint chips, and the like–is my business. I’m the street sweeper of cosmic dust. I leave the large objects, the meteoroids and minimoons, for others.
At last count there are about 35,000 pieces of debris and over 12,000 satellites in orbit around the earth. And, despite requirements for satellite deorbit and disposal, the junk continues to escalate.
And, when I say “my business” I mean my punishment. I was exiled by a group I call MASK – Massive Administrative State KGB. MASK is a conglomeration of bureaucrats under principalities and powers.
MASK insurrectionists took over on November 3rd, 2020. That was the day democracy was denied There were no lawful elections held after that day. The Committee for Democracy Security comprised of big tech, big pharma, and White House personnel made sure of that.
In the year following the November 3rd insurrection, MASK instituted the Four Vexations Campaign. The four vexations -the unvaxxed, climate change deniers, Christians, and cosmic dust – are said by MASK to severely threaten public health
I was exiled into space because I vexed MASK all four ways. I was never willing to be vaxxed, so I became an outcast. I refused to pay the fine for not owning an EV, so I became a climate change criminal. I inaugurated the worldwide Christ the King Day, so I was charged with sedition, and by default, I am cosmic dust.
Delores, my wife, turned me in to MASK agents at Krocer’s. I just happened to sneak into the store without a mask. I was in aisle five looking for taco sauce. As I surmised later, masked Delores was in the produce department flirting with the masked produce guy Joey.
Joey touted the latest store promotion to Delores: “Turn in the unvaxxed and receive a month’s food ration from Krocer’s and five credit score points”.
So, Delores received a month’s food ration at MASK-approved Krocer’s after serving me up. How would you like to learn that after forty years of marriage you are worth thirty days of food? Our marriage was banished to the dust bin of history.
Now, when I say “my wife turned me in” I mean she was not alone. When I refused vaccinations, a criminal risk assessment algorithm used my social credit score to determine the likelihood that I would be a repeat unvaxxer. On International COVID Justice Day I was pronounced “Guilty of Non-compliance with Rules 7 & 8 of the COVID Justice Code”. I was sentenced to orbit the earth until I vaxx or die.
*****
“Collection One to Base Two. Collection One to Base Two. I’m ready to dump this load.”
“Copy Collection One. Atmos7 will approach at 1300 hours SCET.”
“Copy Digitilissimo.”
The Base Two commander doesn’t like it when I call her Digitilissimo. She has made herself known to me in no uncertain terms: “I am a Latina. I am a woman of color, I am a mom, I am a cisgender millennial who’s been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder,” . . . “I am intersectional, but my existence is not a box-checking exercise.”
This woman is not qualified to run anything but she checks the boxes for her MASK bosses. That explains her “generalized anxiety disorder”.
Why the nickname Digitilissimo? The woman is no longer human. She has vaccine-delivered nano circuitry up the wazoo. I have her IP address.
*****
My dust barge Collection One is fitted with a huge microbe tank. There is a large intake/dump valve at one end. Inside the tank – genetically-edited dust eating microbes. When they eat their fill of cosmic dust particles, they poop out pellets. The pellets are then extruded into bars and then loaded onto disposal ships like Atmos 7.
Disposal ships take the cosmic debris a half a parsec or so away from our solar system. Then they shoot the load off toward the black hole Pōwehi, where it will be added into a swirl of dust, stars, gas, and visible light that circles the edge of the hole before being sucked inside.
For my grandkids who may someday hear this recording, the name Pōwehi or “embellished dark source of unending creation” came from an ancient Hawai’ian chant called Kumulipo or source of darkness. The chant describes the creation of the universe. Pōwehi is roughly 54 million light-years away from my dust trawler
Grandkids. How many now?
I hear nothing from anyone. I didn’t take Alphonse with me into space. Bringing a parrot into space would, of course, be a first. Imagine the mess! Sadly, MASK agents reprogrammed my parrot during my solitary confinement at Base Ten. Alphonse now repeats “Wear a mask” and “Get the jab”. There is another parrot on board.
The ship’s intercom repeats over and over again “Your individual choice affects everyone. Give up your individual rights and freedom for the greater good! Conform!”
The loop is part of the reprogramming technique used by the party. What party, you ask? The CCP – Committee for Conformity of Practice. The endless droning narrative is meant to “instill” into the subconscious a desire for behavioral change – submission to the CCP. So, I put on my unplugged headphones to block the blather. Another technique is isolation.
Beaglegeuse, my dog and right hand, I had to leave behind. MASK is now training him to sniff out the unvaccinated. I also had to resign my position in the Society for Acronym Suppression and Extinction. That’s S -A -S -E for the acronym dependent.
*****
Spending a year in microgravity, circling the Earth constantly at nearly 8km/s, really does change a person, not that I needed changing.
I am now over 6 feet tall. I am 3% taller than my earth height because my spinal disks are no longer compressed by gravity. My heart rate has increased to maintain blood pressure compensating for the 20% decrease in the volume of blood in my body. And, because I no longer need to fight gravity my muscles atrophy and osteoporosis will also occur.
Since I’m moving faster than my twin on earth, I will be younger than Emmett if I ever return to earth. That’s according to special relativity. According to MASK special relativity, Emmett may be in orbit trawling for dust soon. Last I heard, he was detained by MASK agents in a 7/Eleven. He was buying a roll of Lifesavers without wearing a mask.
There are things unchangeable about me. But now, in whirling exile, the unchangeable me is reached only by recall: I am rain in the forest – effervescent, beading, dripping onto the trail. I am wind that shakes the leaves into shivers. I am bursting cracking thunder. I am torrent, rippling, babbling, tranquil water. I am field of sunbathing sunflowers. I am blade of grass. I am dust and I am resistance in mega-ohms.
No, I am not a tree-hugging soy boy softie. If I was, I wouldn’t be floating in a hunk of metal sweeping up the long-decayed cometary trails and the remains of digital communication satellite collisions.
I don’t miss the digital world one bit. I hate logging in. I hate usernames, passwords, two-pass authentications. I hate network errors. I hate needing security software, firewalls, and VPNS. I hate the whole 64-bit process. I prefer paper and conversations and meeting actual people.
I hate streaming media. I hate the utter annoyance of commercials and clichés. I do miss Mystery Science Theater, however. I asked MASK for a regular MST broadcast but MASK took it personally and said “NO!”.
Anyway, I hate viewing life through a screen – authentication error! I hate digital images. I hate the pretense of significance the frame provides. And, why give your life to streaming bits and bytes? Why not climb K2 or hike the Appalachian Trail?
With the rise of mass media including the “internet of things”, madness has accelerated and deepened. Why the hell speed up and support the ultra-wide band of mass formation psychosis with 5GUW? In orbit, during the analog of my days devoid of digital diversion, I am able to think outside the data-streaming box. I can pray without unceasing noise.
In case you are wondering, I keep busy. Orbit is orbit, so, I don’t have to bother much with dials and buttons except to keep track of the barge’s dust level gauge. Day to day, beside getting taller and Gumby-like, I’m working on a transactional reality self-help book: I’m OK, You’re CONTROLLING.
The book focuses on the State-as-parent-citizen-as-child relationship. That unnatural bond is enforced by the MASK overloads in their pursuit for COVID justice. I provide insight as to how to throw off that unhealthy and even deadly co-dependency. Briefly, one creates a sphere of truth in a parallel society apart from the State.
The State, as my own account relates, is controlling and manipulative. Mother State, with its media teat, suckles citizens into dependence. Mother State’s milk supports perpetual adolescence, hence the Neverland of citizens that refuse to grow up.
The emotional abuse produced by the “Glorious Motherland”-State has several characteristics, as detailed in my book:
Big Mother doesn’t respect your boundaries.
Big Mother competes for your attention via State media.
Agents of Big Mother have an ON/OFF empathy switch that is used for their own ends – ON to cajole into submission, OFF to ignore your concerns; they appear caring in public and in private, cruel and unfeeling. Theirs is the Ministry of A PAT ON THE HEAD AND A KICK IN THE PANTS.
Agents of Big Mother want you to think you are crazy for not listening to them. To show that they ‘care’ they use shaming tactics such as enforcing mask mandates to get citizens to listen. Big Mother declares itself the Adult with “the science”. Citizens are posited as crude and ignorant test subjects.
Agents of Big Mother present themselves as victims, manipulating any situation to garner sympathy and support. Mother State uses existential threats to consolidate power.
Agents of Big Mother avoid personal accountability and use other people for their own ends.
A play – Death of a Dustman – is my next project. The play, soon to be autobiographical, ends with the last days of a dustman to provide comic relief for his family. The main character is a dust barge pilot who dies on board and then is eaten up by dust-eating microbes and then excreted out into space. The dustman’s remains reanimate on Jupiter’s moon Ganymeade and become an endoparasitoid lifeform that consumes mandators. The life form returns to earth to feed. The sulphury smell of the mandators makes them easy prey.
I’ll have Dale Arden – that’s my nickname for Betty – sneak these manuscripts and this recording back to earth. I’ll hook up with the ISS and Dale in a couple of months when my barge is restocked. Dale is not one of those Clay people that melt or blend into the background. She doesn’t wear the veneer of intersectionality. Dale is an adventurous, independent and beautiful woman. When I think of Dale, I hear Astor Piazzolla’s tango music. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that!
I have noted in my log book that every once in a while, out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark image flash by. The image is not in or outside the barge. It is somewhere to my right. I know that seeing this isn’t due to my time in space. I’ve seen the same fleeting dark images on earth. Dark forces are at work in the cosmos. Dark forces have joined forces with the self-proclaimed earth-gods. The Mother State feeds on Dark Power.
Earth-gods, you see, feed on the experience of power to charge the battery of their self-importance – their pride of life. Jesus was tempted to do the same. During forty days in the wilderness, Jesus, was offered a power ‘opportunity’ by the Satan. Jesus saw the psyop offer as an abuse of his power: Do not put the Lord your God to the test.
Now, how do you discern the humans from the earth-gods? Humans, with a notion of the transcendent, attach themselves to creative forces to multiply and flourish. Humans accept responsibility for their actions. Humans are capable of love which does not defame, entrap or hold hostage another.
The earth-gods, bound to their notion that man is just a clump of chemical-reaction-neuron-firing cells, attach themselves to power in order to replicate their deformed simulacrum of man in humans. The earth gods never accept responsibility. The earth gods instead blame others. The earth gods live in the moment, beyond judgement and shame. They choose power over love.
Because of the unchecked desire for unchecked power, the earth gods are wreaking havoc on earth. To wit: during 2022 a worldwide famine began which continues to kill millions. People can no longer find fresh drinking water because of the decay.
*****
I see that the dust level gauge is approaching overload. Looks like I have to wrap up this recording.
Remember grand-kiddos: the earth-gods are dust. They will experience the end of their power in a dust to dust and ashes to ashes recall.
The earth-gods resent the new creation. That is why I am in orbit and not on earth fighting the good fight. And that is why you must continue the Christ the King celebration. I want all Christians everywhere to take days off and celebrate Christ the King. I want there to be royal fanfares and parades, royal decrees, lavish feasts – food, wine, music, and dancing – with men and women in courtly costume, and fireworks.
When you dust a shelf, think of me. And when I say “think of me”, I mean . . .
Eeeeeeo Eeeeeeo Eeeeeeo Eeeeeeo
(End recording)
**
©Jennifer Ann Johnson, Kingdom Venturers, 2021, All Rights Reserved
*****
Episode 1560 – The Day the Bottom Fell Out of Biden’s Regime
*****
*****
Informed Dissent:
Massive Study of 145 Countries Finds Huge Increase in Death Following Vaccinations – DailyVeracity
16,000 Physicians Agree – by Robert W Malone MD, MS (substack.com)
We Are Watching The Mass Murder Of Millions Warns Dr. Malone In Exclusive Interview (freeworldnews.tv)
Jan. 04, 2022 – 14:04 – ‘Tucker Carlson Tonight’ host analyzes ‘completely irrational’ coronavirus policies.
Tucker: COVID lunacy will end in 2022 | Fox News Video
Denmark health chief says Omicron is about to END the pandemic — The Republic Brief
Unprecedented: Deaths in Indiana for ages 18-64 are up 40% (substack.com)
What if the largest experiment on human beings in history is a failure? (substack.com)
Death by Vaccine?
Indiana life insurance CEO says deaths are up 40% among people ages 18-64 | Indiana | thecentersquare.com
‘Good News’: mRNA Scientist Says Omicron Looks Like Something Vaccinologist Would Design on Purpose (westernjournal.com)
“Huge Numbers” of Children Refusing to Wear Face Masks in School – Summit News
CDC Website Reveals Police Power Will be Used at Quarantine Stations for the “Benefit of Society” (thegatewaypundit.com)
CDC Director Rochelle Walensky — “The overwhelming number of deaths, over 75%, occurred in people who had at least four co-morbidities. So really these are people who were unwell to begin with.”
Rochelle Walensky admits the truth… – CITIZEN FREE PRESS
You Know Global Elites Are Triggered When The Propaganda Institutions Collaborate To Refute “Mass Formation Psychosis” | ZeroHedge
Important Omicron/COVID Research (substack.com)
Federal Entity in DC Is Keeping a List of Individuals Who Refused Vaccine Based on Religious Grounds (thegatewaypundit.com)
Indiana bill would prohibit providers from discouraging use of ivermectin for COVID-19 (wlwt.com)
How to Win the War Against Tyranny- Interview with Pam Popper (bitchute.com)
Behind Gain of Function – Project Veritas:
If you die from the vaccine you won’t get COVID.
Autopsy — 93% of deaths caused by Vaccine… – CITIZEN FREE PRESS
Bhakdi Burkhardt autopsy results show shows 93% of deaths caused by Vaccine
https://www.brighteon.com/3b94ac61-8a45-4dd6-9890-23c6d878d433
Socrates, Thought Police, Ivermectin and Uttar Pradesh (substack.com)
Sci-fi types of medical implants will be here soon (greenwichtime.com)
COVID Passport Microchip Developer Says Chipping of Humans Happening “Whether We Like it or Not” – Summit News
Resiliency: Surviving in the age of censorship, propaganda and cancel culture (substack.com)
LA Times Columnist Says Mocking Anti-Vaxxers Deaths is “Necessary” – Summit News
The Lie that is Anthony Fauci:
James O’Keefe strikes again… – CITIZEN FREE PRESS
Welcome to Illinois:
Parents Horrified As School Hosts ‘SATAN Club’ For Children – Summit News
We are at stage six:
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Filed under 2021 current events, COVID-19, pandemic, Political Commentary, Politics, Short Story, short story, social commentary, social engineering, totalitarianism, Writing Tagged with COVID-19, DEI, Intersectionality, pandemic, poltics, short story, tyranny