Wednesday, May 25, 2016

The Stand




And then as I got back here: wide awake. Wide awake prescient thoughts highly relevant not described here.










http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html


Stephen King

The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition


Chapter 64


He began to understand the irrefutable fact of his coming death then, and he lay beside the Triumph and wept, his twisted leg under him. After that he was able to sleep a little.

The following day he was drenched by a pounding rainshower that left him soaked and shivering. His leg had begun to smell of gangrene, and he took pains to keep the [ Colt ] Woodsman sheltered from the wet with his body. That evening he had begun to write in the Permacover notebook and discovered for the first time that his handwriting was beginning to regress. He found himself thinking of a story by Daniel Keyes—“Flowers for Algernon,” it had been called. In it, a bunch of scientists had somehow turned a mentally retarded janitor into a genius… for a while. And then the poor guy began to lose it. What was the guy’s name? Charley something, right? Sure, because that was the name of the movie they made out of it. Charly. A pretty good movie. Not as good as the story, full of sixties psychedelic shit as he remembered, but still pretty good. Harold had gone to the movies a lot in the old days, and he had watched a lot more on the family VCR. Back in the days when the world had been what the Pentagon would have called a quote viable alternative unquote. He had watched most of them alone.

He wrote in his notebook, the words emerging slowly from the straggling letters:

Are they all dead, I wonder? The committee? If so, I am sorry. I was misled. That is a poor excuse for my actions, but I swear out of all I know that it is the only excuse that ever matters. The dark man is as real as the superflu itself, as real as the atomic bombs that still sit somewhere in their leadlined closets. And when the end comes, and when it is as horrible as good men always knew it would be, there is only one thing to say as all those good men approach the Throne of Judgment: I was misled.










JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess

To: Kerry Burgess

Sent: Saturday, May 13, 2006 1:49:58 PM

Subject: Sleep journal 5/13/06

In an office, my boss's boss, was telling me that I had made history today. She said something about me proving how a single person can make a difference. She handed me some stuff including a chain that you use for dog tags. I was looking at it and there was something about it being too long, or needing to have some links taken out of it. I don't recognize me boss's boss, but my boss was familar. The senior person told me that my boss appreciate's people that are passionate about their work, after I was commenting on how much I enjoy my work.


[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 13 May 2006 excerpt end]



































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https://books.google.com/books?id=grtKlQqTQr0C&lpg=PA23&ots=FLgGSfYXiL&dq=%22ralph%20nader%22%20%22February%2013%2C%201966%22&pg=PA22#v=onepage&q=%22ralph%20nader%22%20%22February%2013,%201966%22&f=false

Google Books


Ralph Nader: A Biography

By Patricia Cronin Marcello


page 22


On another occasion, as Nader stood reading an automotive magazine in a drug store, a young woman approached him and asked him to join a discussion group on foreign affairs. She said they were looking for new members. Nader declined. Then, in a grocery store, he was approached by another young woman who asked him to help her move some furniture. Nader apologized, saying he was running late, and the woman left the store without asking another man to help her. These instances were strange and so close together that Nader began to realize that whoever was investigating him was trying to set him up in an awkward situation with a woman.





JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Posted by H.V.O.M at 4:10 PM Thursday, July 28, 2011


I wasn't consciously calculating a running total of the items I was selecting as I already had decided in my mind before I went in there as to what I would buy. Looking at the receipt, the prices are consistent with what I remember from the shelves where I got the items. I wondered why did that happen today.


[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 28 July 2011 excerpt ends]





JOURNAL ARCHIVE: - posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 2:32 PM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Wednesday 25 May 2016 - http://hvom.blogspot.com/2016/05/red-storm-rising.html


He stared into the shadows of the room. He remembered the look on Morgan's face, and the gagging


[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 25 May 2016 excerpt ends]






























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JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Posted by H.V.O.M at 2:55 AM Friday, July 22, 2011


The Ghost is out of the bag.





I wouldn't even make this kind of report normally and I have resisted for a few minutes the impulse to write about this but I just cannot shake the feeling that it is important to note. A short while after I made my last web log post, I had a brief moment of acid reflux from my lunch, which was some of those very cheap frozen chicken and beef pot pies you can get at the supermarket. I had the strongest sense that something dead was trying to get out of me. The experience was momentary and I quickly chewed a couple of peppermint flavored Tums that I have standing by at moments notice and the feeling has largely past. The reason I cannot shake the impulsive to write about such a detail is because I have the sense that is something to do with me being affected by whatever evil it is that permeates that region in Seattle Washington State. We all affected by it. I write this now because I thought about a few things, such as the girl on the agriculture ship that gets blown up by nuclear missiles from the "Cylons," and I only just now as I write this sentence associate in my mind a detail that I established hours ago in my next comprehensive report. I also think about "28 Weeks Later," and of how that message that is created itself by the people who are uncontrollably affected by the evil, represents the opposite of the truth. For me, it just means that I am completely cured of that effect of the evil presence that permeates Seattle Washington state and that I came here long ago to fight personally.


[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 22 July 2011 excerpt ends]










http://www.tv.com/shows/wayward-pines/enemy-lines-3380311/

tv.com


Wayward Pines Season 2 Episode 1

Enemy Lines

Airs Wednesday 9:00 PM May 25, 2016 on FOX

AIRS TONIGHT










http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1349235/quotes

IMDb


The Stand (TV Mini-Series)

The Plague (1994)

Quotes


Stu Redman: I was faking.










http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/80261/King_-_The_Stand.html


Stephen King

The Stand - The Complete & Uncut Edition


Chapter 72


At first he thought about Harold Lauder, whose corpse they had found two days ago—there seemed to be an unspoken conspiracy among them not to talk about Harold—but eventually his thoughts turned to the person he had dubbed the Wolfman.

They had found the Wolfman just east of the Eisenhower Tunnel. The traffic was badly jammed up there, and the stink of death had been sickly potent. The Wolfman had been half in and half out of an Austin. He was wearing pegged jeans and a silk sequined Western shirt. The corpses of several wolves lay around the Austin. The Wolfman himself was half in and half out of the Austin’s passenger seat, and a dead wolf lay on his chest. The Wolfman’s hands were wrapped around the wolf’s neck, and the wolf’s bloody muzzle was angled up to the Wolfman’s neck. Reconstructing, it seemed to all of them that a pack of wolves had come down out of the higher mountains, had spotted this lone man, and had attacked. The Wolfman had had a gun. He had dropped several of them before retreating to the Austin.

How long before hunger had forced him from his refuge?

Larry didn’t know, didn’t want to know. But he had seen how terribly thin the Wolfman had been. A week, maybe. He had been going west, whoever he was, going to join the dark man, but Larry would not have wished such a dreadful fate on anyone. He had spoken of it once to Stu, two days after they had emerged from the tunnel, with the Wolfman safely behind them.

“Why would a bunch of wolves hang around so long, Stu?”

“I don’t know.”

“I mean, if they wanted something to eat, couldn’t they find it?”

“I’d think so, yeah.”

It was a dreadful mystery to him, and he kept working it over in his mind, knowing he would never find the solution. Whoever the Wolfman had been, he hadn’t been lacking in the balls department. Finally driven by hunger and thirst, he had opened the passenger door. One of the wolves had jumped him and torn his throat out. But the Wolfman had throttled it to death even as he himself died.

The four of them had gone through the Eisenhower Tunnel roped together, and in that horrible blackness, Larry’s mind had turned to the trip he had made through the Lincoln Tunnel. Only now it was not images of Rita Blakemoor that haunted him but the face of the Wolfman, frozen in its final snarl as he and the wolf had killed each other.

Were the wolves sent to kill that man?

But that thought was too unsettling to even consider. He tried to push the whole thing out of his mind and just keep walking, but that was a hard thing to do.



- posted by H.V.O.M - Kerry Wayne Burgess 11:32 PM Pacific Time Spokane Valley Washington USA Wednesday 25 May 2016