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JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 04/16/07 2:59 PM
I "remember" telling Thedia one time this was my favorite novel. That must have been before my divergence from my real identity. I can still "remember" watching the mini-series in that apartment I had at Arrowood. That would have been just after UFP transferred us to Charlotte because Eric Zimmerman was still living there in that apartment, which UFP had arranged for us. I stayed in the apartment after he and his wife found another place.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Stand
The Stand is an apocalyptic horror epic novel by Stephen King originally published in 1978.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 16 April 2007 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: August 29, 2006
When I was working in that first bank in Charlotte with UFP, Mark Howe, Eric Zimmerman and I serviced some machinery that made images of checks that the bank processed. The area the machines and the operators, such as La Verne Barber, were in was called the "Lockbox." As I looked at the "53000" I remembered what those machines were called: S3000 Imaging Proof machines. This must be some reference to my participation in Operation Eagle Claw.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 29 August 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 09/26/07 6:17 PM
Yep. That's the actor I "remember." I wonder why my manager at Universal Financial was named Mark Howe.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 26 September 2007 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 12/21/10 12:02 PM
Jim Carrey sure does remind me of Mark Howe as I just now start watching this. In the context of my artificial memory, Mark Howe was my manager at Universal Financial Products when we worked in Greenville SC and then Charlotte NC.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 21 December 2010 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 12/21/10 12:06 PM
That must have been around Feb. 1992 when UFP took over the maintenance contract for First Federal from Kettermans. I "remember" that I moved to the Ketterman's office in Memphis and I was there for maybe 6 weeks and then I decided to quit Ketterman's and go to work for UFP doing the same job in Greenville that I had been doing for Ketterman's. Mark Howe was the contract manager and worked out of the Greenville office.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 12/21/10 12:18 PM
He drove a blue van, too. That was a company vehicle assigned to him. I think it had the UFP name printed on the side.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 21 December 2010 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Friday, March 24, 2006 2:44 PM
To: Kerry Burgess
Subject: Re: pretense
Kerry Burgess wrote:
After I got out of the VA last summer, the social worker found a place for me to stay at some kind of retirement home. Most of the people there were elderly but the facility provided service to homeless as well. I was feeling very frustrated because the washing machines were coin operated. I had something like 5 dollars maybe and I had to put a lot of thought into stretching that out as long as possible. I only had like one change of clothes and I was calculating how long I could wear the same clothes without getting too smelly. I also didn't even have any soap to use for a shower. So shortly after I got there, I walked down to a nearby supermarket. I went in to check the prices of soap and laundry detergent to see if I could afford anything. I forget the muzak that started playing after I entered, but I remember thinking, as I had noticed many times before in other places, that it seemed relevant. Something like they knew I had no money so why am I in there. As I was leaving, indeed being able to afford nothing, I walked through the doors and there were a couple kids standing nearby against the building. I didn't see any adults around them. Something about their demeanor caught my attention too. I then noticed a woman sitting casually in a car, maybe a minivn, in front me, staring at me intently. I seem to recall there was something hanging from the rearview mirror, one of those gay symbols, some kind of rainbow kind of symbol. I remembered it from a manager I had a long time who put one of those symbols on the company van. He mentioned that he took it off when the van was being serviced because he was afraid the mechanics would damage the van because he was gay.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 24 March 2006 excerpt ends]
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http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html
Stephen King
The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition
Chapter 16
A day later, on June 23, a big white Connie was roaring north on US 180, in another part of the country. It was doing somewhere between ninety and one hundred, its Corinthian white paint job glittering in the sun, the chrome winking. The opera windows in the rear also gave back the sun, heliographing it viciously.
The trail that Connie had left behind itself since Poke and Lloyd killed its owner and stole it somewhere just south of Hachita was wandering and pretty much senseless. Up 81 to US 80, the turnpike, until Poke and Lloyd began to feel nervous. They had killed six people in the last six days, including the owner of the Continental, his wife, and his smarmy daughter. But it was not the six murders that made them feel antsy about being on the interstate. It was the dope and the guns. Five grams of hash, a little tin snuffbox filled with God knew how much coke, and sixteen pounds of marijuana. Also two .38s, three .45s, a .357 Mag that Poke called his Pokerizer, six shotguns—two of them sawed-off pumps—and a Schmeisser submachine gun. Murder was a trifle beyond their intellectual reach, but they both understood the trouble they were going to be in if the Arizona State Police picked them up in a stolen car full of blow and shootin irons. On top of everything else, they were interstate fugitives. Had been ever since they crossed the Nevada border.
Interstate fugitives. Lloyd Henreid liked the sound of that. Gangbusters. Take that, you dirty rat. Have a lead sandwich, ya lousy copper.
So they had turned north at Deming, now on 180; had gone through Hurley and Bayard and the slightly larger town of Silver City, where Lloyd had bought a bag of burgers and eight milkshakes (why in the name of Christ had he bought eight of the motherfuckers? they would soon be pissing chocolate), grinning at the waitress in an empty yet hilarious way that made her nervous for hours afterward. I believe that man would just as soon killed me as looked at me, she told her boss that afternoon.
Past Silver City and roaring through Cliff, the road now bending west again, just the direction they didn’t want to go. Through Buckhorn and then they were back in the country God forgot, two-lane blacktop running through sagebrush and sand, buttes and mesas in the background, all that same old same old made you want to just rare back and puke at it.
“We’re gettin low on gas,” Poke said.
“Wouldn’t be if you didn’t drive so fuckin fast,” Lloyd said. He took a sip of his third milkshake, gagged on it, powered down the window, and threw out all the leftover crap, including the three milkshakes neither of them had touched.
“Whoop! Whoop!” Poke cried. He began to goose the gas pedal. The Connie lurched forward, dropped back, lurched forward.
“Ride em cowboy!” Lloyd yelled.
“Whoop! Whoop!”
“You want to smoke?”
“Smoke em if you got em,” Poke said. “Whoop! Whoop!”
There was a large green Hefty bag on the floor between Lloyd’s feet. It held the sixteen pounds of marijuana. He reached in, got a handful, and began to roll a bomber joint.
“Whoop! Whoop!” The Connie cruised back and forth over the white line.
“Cut the shit!” Lloyd shouted. “I’m spillin it everywhere!”
“Plenty more where that came from… whoop!”
“Come on, we gotta deal this stuff, man. We gotta deal this stuff or we’re gonna get caught and wind up in somebody’s trunk.”
“Okay, sport.” Poke began to drive smoothly again, but his expression was sulky. “It was your idea, your fuckin idea.”
“You thought it was a good idea.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know we’d end up drivin all over fuckin Arizona. How we ever gonna get to New York this way?”
“We’re throwin off pursuit, man,” Lloyd said. In his mind he saw police garage doors opening and thousands of 1940s radio cars issuing forth into the night. Spotlights crawling over brick walls. Come on out, Canarsie, we know you’re in there.
“Good fuckin luck,” Poke said, still sulking. “We’re doin a helluva job. You know what we got, besides that dope and the guns? We got sixteen bucks and three hundred fuckin credit cards we don’t dare use. What the fuck, we don’t even have enough cash to fill this hog’s gas tank.”
“God will provide,” Lloyd said, and spit-sealed the bomber. He lit it with the Connie’s dashboard lighter. “Happy fuckin days.”
“And if you want to sell it, what are we doing smokin it?” Poke went on, not much mollified by the thought of God providing.
“So we sell a few short ounces. Come on, Poke. Have a smoke.”
This never failed to break Poke up. He brayed laughter and took the joint. Between them, standing on its wire stock, was the Schmeisser, fully loaded. The Connie blazed on up the road, its gas gauge standing at an eighth.
Poke and Lloyd had met a year before in the Brownsville Minimum Security Station, a Nevada work farm. Brownsville was ninety acres of irrigated farmland and a prison compound of Quonset huts about sixty miles north of Tonopah and eighty northeast of Gabbs. It was a mean place to do short time. Although Brownsville Station was supposed to be a farm, nothing much grew there. Carrots and lettuce got one taste of that blaring sun, chuckled weakly, and died. Legumes—and weeds would grow, and the state legislature was fanatically dedicated to the idea that someday soybeans would grow. But the kindest thing that could be said about Brownsville’s ostensible purpose was that the desert was taking a Christless long time to bloom. The warden (who preferred to be called “the boss”) prided himself on being a hardass, and he hired only men he considered to be fellow hardasses. And, as he was fond of telling the new fish, Brownsville was mostly minimum security because when it came to escape, it was like the song said: noplace to run to, baby, noplace to hide. Some gave it a shot anyway, but most were brought back in two or three days, sunburned, glareblind, and eager to sell the boss their shriveled raisin souls for a drink of water. Some of them cackled madly, and one young man who was out for three days claimed he saw a large castle some miles south of Gabbs, a castle with a moat. The moat, he said, was guarded by trolls riding big black horses. Some months later when a Colorado revival preacher did a show at Brownsville, this same young man got Jesus in a big way.
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JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 2006
I've been thinking the past couple days about the symbolism behind the contract work I was doing for Sears a long time ago. It was a guy from the Memphis office that worked out the contract. Usually, I would drive from Greenville, SC, up to Asheville, NC, and work out of their service center. One day, I think this happened several times but I remember best the first time, I made a house call, which was unusal. I have been wondering if this is supposed to represent me bombing Iraq one time.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 2006 excerpt ends]
https://www.google.com/maps/@35.0446918,-82.4295371,3a,75y,31.88h,86.29t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sbAjSyHkwiRv2AxWx1ZHMdQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656!5m1!1e4
Google Maps
US-25
Travelers Rest, South Carolina
There somewhere. I don't feel patient enough tonight to click thousands of times through Google Map images to find something I know I was seeing 25 years ago. I keep going back to the same stretch of road but then not finding what I think I should find.
https://www.google.com/maps/@35.1017659,-82.4509001,3a,50.4y,0.12h,87.74t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sTF6Z3XSoSMIaQKqPjAwm3A!2e0!7i13312!8i6656!5m1!1e4
Google Maps
US-25
Travelers Rest, South Carolina
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 01/17/08 8:31 AM
I "remember" how I loved to listen to the soundtrack from this movie. I know I have seen the movie but I don't remember really anything about it. But I used to listen to that soundtrack tape as I would drive from Greenville to Asheville, NC, for service calls to the computer department at the Sears department store there, which I also loved to have to drive up there for. I had that red 1990 Mazda RX-7 and I would open the sunroof and that is also a pleasant "memory" of driving up there in that car.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091790/
Pretty in Pink (1986)
Release Date: 28 February 1986 (USA)
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 17 January 2008 excerpt ends]
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Google Maps
Texarkana Ave
Wilton, Arkansas
https://www.google.com/maps/@33.7406124,-94.1482609,3a,63.5y,255.87h,88.27t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sMn-dj9zpTfG64156A4cwzw!2e0!7i13312!8i6656
Google Maps
Main St
Wilton, Arkansas
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html
Stephen King
The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition
Chapter 1
Stuart Redman, who was perhaps the quietest man in Arnette, was sitting in one of the cracked plastic Woolco chairs, a can of Pabst in his hand, looking out the big service station window at Number 93.
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JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Posted by H.V.O.M at 7:50 AM Thursday, October 27, 2011
"Trash of the Titans"
In a dream sequence that seemed to be minutes before I awoke and got out of bed this day I was standing outside a building and I have been wanting to say since then that the building was a shopping mall and then I started wanting to say that building was some unidentified location at the Westfield shopping mall at the interstate crossroads of I-5 and I-405 a few miles south of Seattle Washington. I don't recall any details in the dream that clarify that notion though. At one point I was operating an ATM device and I was angry because I saw a guy walk up on my left and was trying to read what was on the ATM screen as I made the transaction. That went on for a little while. At one point I might have hit that guy with my fist but that isn't really established in the dream. I finished my transaction and there was a woman standing behind me in front of a line of more people and I knew she was also trying to read the bank's ATM screen as I conducted my financial transaction with that bank machine. I don't recall the amount I withdrew from the ATM but I saw at glance a message on the screen of the ATM that informed me about how in the near future that machine would be capable of dispersing only forty dollars maximum per transaction and that was because of a labor strike that was soon to happen in Britain. I seem to think now that I was aware in the dream of more details about that labor strike but now I cannot recall any other details other than how I or someone else was angry because that labor strike was going to happen. I was standing outside there at that building that I think was the Westfield, or as I always think of it, the Southcenter Mall, and I recall that the driver of a police car stopped at the curb somewhere in my range of vision and I could hear the radio in the police car because it was turned up really loud and I could hear what I think was some kind of announcement to the police force that the driver of the car was listening to and that I could hear. I recall now something consistent with wild animals or zombies attacking people in locations in that city and that announcement on the police car radio was an update on that situation. After the driver pulled away from the curb and turned around to go back the direction he had arrived from I was standing there in the dream wondering if he had pulled up there just so I could personally hear that message being received by the radio in his police car.
I think the next point where the dream picks up is that I was sitting in the audience of some kind of musical performance and I was sitting in the very front of the room and close to the low stage and I seemed to be at a table to the right of the stage and against the wall of the room. I was aware of details in the dream about the song being performed but now I recall none of it other than I can visualize the activities of the group of people in their performance. Then the group of performers that were not singing, which seemed to be only one or maybe two but that wasn't clearly established in the dream, began marching out from the backstage on my left side of the stage and they were walking across the stage to the other side to exit and the last person who came out was the actor Steve Martin. He might have been the announcer at that point and he might have been the one who announced that the performance was ending and that they would be back to perform again at 11 PM and midnight and I think he mentioned an additional time of day but I don't recall that now. I must have looked at my wristwatch I guess I was wearing in the dream because somehow I knew the current time of day was 8:18 PM as the speaker made those announcements. I was aware that the day of week was Friday as I sat there at that table. I wondered what I was going to do until 11 PM and I must have not wanted to just sit there and wait for 11 PM. I thought about driving around in the mountains somewhere and I think that I was thinking about the mountains east of here. I think that was point where I woke up and got out of bed to start looking at whether any of this makes any sense on this day Thursday 27 October 2011 and I wrote most of this before I started reviewing any details about today's date.
I thought through that dream deliberately after waking up before I started working on any aspect of this report. I really did have that dream and the details in the dream I wrote about happened while I was still sleeping. I have not been running the numbers for any future dates other than for future dates that I have written about in my blog and the only future date I can think of that I have in the past ran through was for Saturday 29 October 2011. That is the only date I have examined so far other than the dates I examine after waking up from a dream on this day, such as how I now examine the date 27 October 2011 after waking up from a dream.
[ JOURNAL ARCHIVE 27 October 2011 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Posted by H.V.O.M at 7:55 PM Thursday, December 08, 2011
The Mall
Watching in recent hours this evening the DVD for the 1994 television miniseries Stephen King's "The Stand," as I didn't make it all the way through the first DVD of the two-disc set, I have watched some scenes this evening that remind me of a dream I had in recent weeks. I don't recall the precise day I had that dream but it wasn't long ago and I have thought about it several times since then and I can still visualize certain scenes in it and I have kept thinking to myself that the dream was important and that the details I saw in that dream were important and somehow relevant to the real world. So I am watching tonight the scenes at their campsite next to the streams and that reminded me of that dream in certain regards and then I saw "Mother Abagail" laughing with delight as she ran a remote-controlled lawn mower across her yard in Boulder Colorado and that reminded me of my dream and so finally I decided to stop and make this note at the point where "Mother Abagail" is praying to God right around the time the power station is being brought back online and unless I am too much mistaken, having paused the DVD at this point, where she takes off into the night and everyone begins searching for her.
What that part makes me think about is how in that dream, I am thinking about as I write these paragraphs, for the first time I can ever recall I actually had a vivid dream where I was talking in person to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and the person I was talking to, I was very certain in the dream, was literally Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
I can still remember that I had brought to her a couple of items and I was feeling apologetic because I had not included those items, and this part has always been vague, in some kind of report. But what is not vague is that I saw a brief smile from her, which I thought of because I might have been feeling apologetic perhaps for overlooking something earlier, which was the reason I was talking to her again and with those two items in hands, one of which was a pair of wire cutters and the other was a non-conductive tool that I remember from using to adjust certain variable electronic components as potentiometers and similar items that are soldered to printed circuit boards, and so apparently those two items were part of a collection that was being put together and I came back to her and told her we needed to add those items to the collection. Reinforcing the notion that we were all moving somewhere, which is vague now in sequence because I cannot recall which happened first, is the scene with the lawn mower. But I wasn't using a lawn mower but I was using a device for trimming grass. I think the actual product name is Weed Eater. Similar to 'Jet Ski' I think that product name has become synonymous with products that fulfill a similar purpose. So anyway, at some point in the dream and the sequence of events in the dream is now lost in my mind, or maybe not, I had arrived at a place where two streams converged and that place seemed to be a destination. There might have been people there already but I keep wanting to say that I was part of a group that was moving to that location and that was someplace uninhabited. I saw the streams converging and one stream was smaller and it looked kind of polluted. I was left with the sense that it was not really an ideal place to go to. I did see some signs of civilization there such as next to the stream was paved roads and I could see the metal shoulder barriers of the road. There was high weeds on the banks of the streams and I was using a weed trimmer to cut it down but I stopped perhaps half way through. Other people were around but that is vague. A scene that seems important and that I have thought about several times is that at some point I was on top of a boat that had a white cover over it and I think the boat was on a trailer and I could see myself as I adjusted cargo straps that stretched over the white cover of that boat and somewhere below a woman was looking up at me as I was on top of the boat and she was speaking to me and I cannot recall now, if I ever did, what she said but I do recall that I asked her why she was telling me any of the information she was telling me and I think I responded to her that she needed to tell the police what she was saying. I don't recall anything else about that dream, although there are some other details that don't seem important to note here.
I do not recall now precisely when I had that dream but I think that was right around the time I was having those dreams during that period when I wrote about that dream where I was standing at the ATM at the Southcenter Mall and the police car drove up and I thought the reason it was there was so I could here the message being broadcast over the police radio circuits.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 08 December 2011 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Posted by H.V.O.M at 12:55 PM Friday, December 09, 2011
Wait a minute. I had that wrong yesterday.
Something I just heard on the radio a few minutes ago reminded me that I had seen Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in a dream before and her appearance was her literal self as I understood in the dream. I was sitting on a sofa and I was in a place I don't recognize and I can still visualize and she served me a refreshment and I have thought about that many times but now I forget what I was thinking about specifically as she stood there. Naturally I would say "Thank you" but I don't think I did say that. She never did speak in the dream and after she handed me the cup she went back to her desk which was behind me and the sofa and she continued working on some documents. I heard some dialog from another man and woman just after that but I am not really certain if they were in the same room we were in although I could visualize them to a certain extent. I thought about this after I heard something on the radio just a few minutes ago and I do not record here certain specific details about that dream.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 09 December 2011 excerpt ends]
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From 5/8/1884 ( Harry S. Truman ) To 3/3/1959 ( the birthdate in Hawaii of my biological brother Thomas Reagan ) is 27326 days
27326 = 13663 + 13663
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/31/2003 is 13663 days
From 9/20/1888 ( Sue Sophia Dauser ) To 7/16/1963 ( Phoebe Cates the United States Army veteran and the Harvard University graduate medical doctor and the world-famous actress and the wife of my biological brother Thomas Reagan ) is 27326 days
27326 = 13663 + 13663
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/31/2003 is 13663 days
http://www.spokanevalley.org/content/77/136/default.aspx
CITY OF Spokane Valley
About Us
The City was incorporated on March 31, 2003.
http://www.tv.com/shows/dead-like-me/rest-in-peace-260716/
tv.com
Dead Like Me
Rest in Peace
Season 1, Ep 14, Aired 9/26/03
http://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=dead-like-me&episode=s01e14
Springfield! Springfield!
Dead Like Me
s01e14
Kiffany, I'll have coffee.
- No, make that a green tea.
It's good for you.
- How about a hot cup of shut-the-fuck-up? I'm not sure you got the memo, Roxy, but it is my day.
- Nothing for me? - Not today.
That's right, not today! - Why? - Every so often, you get one of those days.
From 4/9/1986 ( --- ) To 8/11/1993 is 2681 days
From 11/2/1965 ( my birth date in Antlers Oklahoma USA and my birthdate as the known official United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and active duty United States Marine Corps officer ) To 3/6/1973 ( Richard Nixon - Remarks at a Ceremony Honoring Slain Foreign Service Officers ) is 2681 days
[ See also: http://hvom.blogspot.com/2016/01/thats-some-good-television-right-there.html ]
http://www.amazon.com/Without-Remorse-Tom-Clancy/dp/0399138250/ref=tmm_hrd_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=8-1&qid=1407988942
amazon
Without Remorse Hardcover – August 11, 1993
by Tom Clancy (Author)
Product Details
Hardcover: 639 pages
Publisher: Putnam; 1st edition (August 11, 1993)
http://www.azlyrics.com/s/sundays.html
AZ
THE SUNDAYS
album: "Reading, Writing, And Arithmetic" (1990)
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sundays/myfinesthour.html
AZ
THE SUNDAYS
"My Finest Hour"
And the finest hour that I've ever known
Was finding a pound on the underground
And I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are, what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me
So show me the way to go home
And the words came stumbling out of my mouth
And then I went tumbling out...
But I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me so show me the way to go
Oh, I'm going home
But I'll keep hoping you are the only one
Yes and I'll send you letters, wouldn't it be such fun?
We are who we are whatever the others say
But poetry is not for me
And much as I'd like to stay
Oh, I just want to go home
http://www.kxly.com/image/view/-/26725012/highRes/1/-/maxh/365/maxw/650/-/66m1tsz/-/Ironman-winner-pic.jpg
- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 02:28 AM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Friday 11 March 2016
