The Year of the Basilard

[Iron Worker]

** W O W **

Seriously, good stuff, and I can see where this may be headed, but I won’t predict which version of the story board you are following.

Julius Caesar carried a sword in the style of a Basilard… and wasn't Caesar killed with a knife, also similar to the style of a Basilard? You have chosen very strong imagery in that choice of title.

Power and the powerful - - and the unraveling and rebuilding of empires - - literally swords with two-edges, yes?

I’m loving it, keep it coming, please…

[seekingtruth]

I like it. Keep it up! I could see alot of this happening.

Funny, though. I always figured if the Feds ever had to relocate from DC, it would be to Denver, CO.
Then again, Omaha is in the center of the country, and the President could use the old SAC command bunker at Offut AFB in place of the White House Situation Room (the newest incarnation of SAC, the Global Strike Command, is now headquartered at Barksdale AFB in Louisiana). I mean, I doubt it would play into the story, but it makes sense.

[SnuffySmith]

VI

Angela Apatatos arrived at the Decatur Women’s Prison on January 9, 2017. Originally she was to be sent to the Oakdale Reformatory for Women, but a shortage of beds there caused a bureaucratic reassignment which sent Angela to the minimum security facility instead.

During in-processing Angela was fitted with an ankle-bracelet. Although the facility had a security fence around the perimeter, there were no guard towers. Numerous overhanging trees negated the security value of the fence. The ankle-bracelet, Angela was told, would sound an alarm should she make an unauthorized step beyond the perimeter. It would sound if she removed it. It could also track her whereabouts.

The prison consisted of eight interconnected dormitory style buildings, an administrative office, classrooms, a laundry, kitchen, dining hall, exercise yard, garden plots, and other features of a minimum security prison.

Most of the prisoners were women with babies and small children. These children were housed with their mothers inside the prison. For Angela, this bureaucratic reassignment was, in fact, a bureaucratic fuck-up which left her with little to do. She was assigned a room in Dorm 8. She was assigned work on the Moms and Babies program to help teach inmates basic skills in infant care.

A month after arriving, Angela received bad news. Her husband Christos had not adapted well to prison life. He’d been sent to Joliet Prison which was reopened in 2014. This was a prison for hard-core criminals. He’d steadfastly refused to identify with any prison gang and mostly wanted to be left alone. Due to the nature of his conviction, he was instantly courted by the North Winders, a white supremacist gang.

Christos believed if he sided with the North Winders, then he’d become especially targeted by the black gangstas. Besides, he wanted nothing to do with neo-Nazis. His grandparents in Greece lived during the occupation in World War Two and fought as partisans against the Nazis. He was not political. As he told it, he was in prison for doing what any father would have done to protect himself and his daughter.

The North Winders didn’t take kindly to being snubbed. One afternoon they jumped Christos in the exercise yard and shanked him. He bled out before the guards could rescue him.

For Angela, the news of her husband’s death ended any incentive to work through the legal system to have her sentence overturned. She began looking for avenues of escape. In this quest she had an ally in a sympathetic guard, Maria Olson.

The deteriorating situation outside the Decatur Women’s Prison was felt inside as well. Due to budget cuts years earlier, the guards’ salaries were frozen and hiring freezes limited new hires to openings due to attrition rather than the growing prison population. Most of those new guards went to maximum security sites while minimum security prisons withered under conditions of understaffing and underfunding.

“I can’t afford to retire,” 50-year old Maria told Angela, “the dollar doesn’t buy crap anymore and my pension wouldn’t even cover a month’s mortgage payment; let alone a rent payment.”

Even since Angela’s nightmare began on the evening of June 20, 2015, things had gotten worse in the USA. A number of fast-food chains went under which generated considerable commentary in the “pundits-sphere.” Most notable among these was the industry giant specializing in fried chicken. Its spokesman blamed its demise on the increased cost of chicken feed due to drought conditions in the corn-belt.

“How can this be?” Angela asked. “We have chicken nuggets on the menu at least three times a week!”

“Are you sure about that?” Maria replied. Nothing more was said about the mystery meat called “chicken nuggets.”

The problem with underfunding led to other shortcuts at the prison.

“Procedures used to be that inmates would have their ankle bracelets changed every 30 days. They don’t do that anymore,” said Maria one evening, “It costs too much to change the batteries.”

Puzzled, Angela asked, “What does that mean?”

Maria Olson believed Angela should never have had to spend a day in prison for protecting her family and shooting the feral beast that violated her daughter. It was travesty of justice and she felt strongly that Angela had already had too much taken away from her.

“It means the guards have to visually inspect inmates to make sure they are wearing their bracelets; it’s why you have to wear it on the outside of your sweatpants and not tucked under the cuff. What would you do if you could get out of here?” Maria replied.

“Wait a minute!” Angela cried. “What do batteries have to do with the bracelets?”

“You’re not supposed to know this, but the manufacturers recommend the batteries be changed every 30 days; otherwise the alarm system may not work properly. The ankle bracelets have been tested at 45 days and they still work fine. At 60 days about half still work as intended. At 90 days the bracelet is changed. Again, what would you do if you left?”

Angela hesitated before answering. “I’d go home to Oregon and…”

“That’s fine; I don’t need to know any more. Now about those clothes of yours…” Maria continued dropping hints. “Hmm. With the economy the way it is, I can’t afford going to the Laundromat in my red Honda. Thankfully my sister lets me use her washer every other week after my shift. I keep meaning to take it into the shop to have the back hatch lock fixed. I’m sure glad I work at a prison where no one would steal my dirty laundry from the back of my car.”

Angela already knew from earlier talks with Maria that the gate to the dumpster area was not locked. She also knew the perimeter gate to the dumpster area was left unsecured on Tuesday nights so that the garbage haulers could make their Wednesday morning pickups without having to hunt down a guard.

“When do you do your laundry next?”

“Oh, I’m going to my sister’s house next Wednesday morning.” Maria answered casually. “It pisses her off if I come over too early, but mandatory overtime means I’m stuck here from 6 pm to 4 am most weeks anyway, so it’s not too much of a sacrifice to kill a few hours at Denny’s getting breakfast. She still doesn’t like it when I show up at 6 in the morning, but tough shit, right?”

At midnight on March 15, 2017 Angela Anderson – she decided she was going to use her maiden after her escape – crept out of her dorm with a garbage bag full of smelly diapers. If her plan failed, then she intended to plead that she could not sleep with the smell of her fellow inmates’ kids’ diapers stinking up her unit. This was logical enough, although the diapers were supposed to go to the laundry.

She opened the gate to the dumpster area and passed through. Nothing happened. Normally only inmates responsible for taking out the garbage were allowed to cross this gate; all others were to deposit garbage at the collection point just inside the gate. She went to the vehicle entrance and passed through it. Still nothing happened. She dropped the garbage bag and moved quickly to the parking lot and found a red Honda and opened the hatchback. There she found a bag with clothes and, in the dim light cast by the overhead dome light and the lights in the parking lot she found a note and an envelope.

“If you got this far, then you should be almost clear. Change your clothes here and leave your uniform in the bag,” read the note, “Ditch the bracelet well away from here. Take the money in the envelope – it’s not much – and good luck.” Angela found a thousand dollars in the envelope. Maria was right, it wasn’t much. It would last a week if she ate only once a day.

Stripping off the jump suit, Angela hurriedly donned Maria’s civilian clothes. She waited until she was past Interstate 72 heading north on Highway 51 before she removed the ankle bracelet with the pocket knife Maria left in her blue jeans’ pocket. She threw the bracelet into the ditch and walked north into the night.

[SnuffySmith]

Just so folks know, this is a work in progress - a first draft. The editing is far from complete. Bear with if some things seem out of whack in the story's timeline.

[Iron Worker]

Nice…

I’m really into it so far.

So, KFC goes under in about 3Q-2015? You know that’s gonna fuck-up the delicate balance between the forces of good and evil in places like Detroit… (LOL!!)

Keep it coming…

[OCHonegro]

Nice…

I’m really into it so far.

So, KFC goes under in about 3Q-2015? You know that’s gonna fuck-up the delicate balance between the forces of good evil and MORE evil in places like Detroit… (LOL!!)

Keep it coming…

Fixed.

-Dr. Octavius Charles Honegro IV, CRC
Professor Emeritus
Afro-Centric Incarceration Studies,
NU, North Florida Campus

Sent from my Sail Foam using TapaNigga2

[SnuffySmith]

VII

Bill Gonne was watching the news. The lead story was about another food riot in Chicago. Since the 2016 election season, these were becoming more common. The only surprise Bill felt about this was that they hadn’t happened sooner.

Bill knew that, up until the 1980s, a system existed to store surplus grain in elevators around the country. He also knew that taxpayers paid for the storage. This changed as politicians opted to divert this money to pay for welfare projects and increased military budgets. Consequently, very little was stored from year to year.

Droughts in recent years affected large areas of the grain belt. The drought of 2012 affecting Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas moved north and east into Nebraska, Missouri, and Iowa in 2013.

Other parts of the country not directly affected by drought nevertheless felt its impact. Corn and wheat and other grains had long provided the basis of an affordable, abundant food supply. Ceres Americana was now undermined by the effects of global warming and disastrous social planning.

Once the price of grain shot up, so did the price of meat, milk, and other dairy products. Bread and other baked goods became expensive. The United States began importing grain from Canada, but it was not enough. Things would get worse after Raimam Azurkot took the reins of power in Arabia.

Raimam Azurkot’s decision to divest from US treasury notes and bills shook the financial world. Bill Gonne was surprised to learn he was the source of that decision after federal agents visited him at his home in Coralville, Iowa. He did not know that Raimam Azurkot went to the same university and at the same time he did.

Many years earlier; prior to the beginning of George W. Bush’s war against Iraq, Bill wrote an article for his college newspaper as a rebuttal to the usual leftist drivel coming from the anti-war movement. Bill was anti-war himself, but his study of history taught him that marches, rallies, and protests did not stop or prevent wars.

The title of his article was: “Preserving the Peace: How to Overthrow the US Government.” What he wrote was:

Preserving the Peace: How to Overthrow the United States Government

A generation has come of age in the United States which has never known a time when the United States hasn’t been involved in some foreign conflict. It has never known a time when its welfare was not connected with warfare. Since the end of World War Two, there has not been a time when large numbers of US soldiers were not stationed abroad in a far-flung empire of bases.

Like all empires before it, the US Empire is not sustainable. It relies on a tyranny of force and repression abroad and coercion and cooptation at home. Examples of this are all around us and it not necessary to go into depth on each one at this time.

Once again we see the country gearing up for war. Once again we see anti-war activists on the march to nowhere. Once again we hear radical communists spouting their “r-r-r-revolutionary slogans.” With all due respect to the latter, for all their talk of revolution, they have no idea of how to make one; nor can they calculate the cost of a revolution even if they were in a position to make one. They might advance their cause better if they offered communist revolution to the masses at 50% off.

Any time people want something there is a price. If they want something badly enough, then the higher that price is likely to be. The same is true of war and peace. How badly does the anti-war movement want peace? That depends on who you ask.

In the marches before the war starts, you’ll see liberal Democrats marching for peace because it is a Republican president leading the charge to war. If it were a Democrat in office, then you’d see Republicans opposing it as “fiscally irresponsible adventurism.” Once the war begins, however, the liberal Democrats you see today won’t want to be seen as “anti-patriotic” or being “against the troops.” They’ll drop their dovish coos and howl along with the wolves.

Then you have the religious anti-war folks whose presence is part of the testimony of their faith. They can be counted on for at least six months of prayer vigils and silent witnesses. They too have no real program for preserving the peace.

On the Great Seal of the Government of the United States we see a bald eagle clutching an olive branch in its right talon, and 13 arrows in its left talon. This is to remind us, as a bird of prey, the government has more than one means of force at its disposal. While the anti-war movement is in distress over the government’s resort to violence to achieve foreign policy ends, it apparently has no qualms about the government using economic means to achieve domestic ends. It is all part of the same bird!

“Vox populi, vox Dei” means “The voice of the people is the voice of God.” People here and around the world have made it clear that they do not want this war. It seems very unlikely that the present administration will be dissuaded from its plans to attack Iraq. The question then becomes “What consequences can be brought against the United States government for waging war against the consent of the people?”

An “out of control government” is like a mad dog which needs to be put down. Nevertheless, people can’t openly say this. Even the comrades know about 18 USC § 2385 “Advocating overthrow of Government.” This is the law which makes it illegal to advocate, organize, and execute the violent overthrow of the US government.

The key word here is “violent;” otherwise elections would be illegal. Indeed, “electoral consequences” is the first answer likely given in response to the question of what to do about an out of control government. Even our leftist friends appreciate the absurdity of this and they quote Stalin aptly: “Those who vote decide nothing. Those who count the vote decide everything.”

When a general plans a battle, he must consider the means and forces available. These in turn determine which objectives are possible and which are not. A general also needs detailed information on the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses. Every empire has an Achilles Heel. In the case of the United States it is called DEBT.

Overthrowing the United States government (and thereby stopping its war-making ability) is as simple as refusing to buy its debt. Every day the US Treasury Department must sell Treasury Bills and Notes and Savings Bonds in order to keep the government operating. The US is particularly dependent on foreign countries such as China and Saudi Arabia and Japan and the United Kingdom as well as other wealthy investors to fund day to day government operations.

To organize a boycott of US government securities in response to a war waged without public consent is perhaps the only legal means available to the anti-war movement. It brings to mind the divestment campaign to end Apartheid. It isn’t sexy, but an American-led boycott could spread abroad and, if enough pressure were brought to bear on foreign investors by their people, then the US government could face the grim prospect of going broke and out of business.

In any case, the US debt is already so huge that investors are unlikely to recover the value of their investments. When the day comes when they stop throwing good money after bad, it will trigger a collapse of the US government similar to the collapse of the Soviet Union. If the anti-war movement acts as a catalyst, then maybe the US can recover some goodwill in the aftermath. Otherwise, it’s possible that creditors will show no mercy and no forgiveness.

Whether they like it or not, American anti-war activists are stakeholders in the government which is gearing up for war. It remains to be seen how much they are willing to pay for preserving the peace.

[Iron Worker]

As your story builds, it seems you have got everything hitting America at once - -

Natural Disaster - - Drought, Famine, and continually feeding niggers at Fed expense

Middle East - -Raimam Azurkot (..interesting character..)

Economic Disaster - - Borrow, spend, and gimme-dat’s for niggers, with no ROI

Foreign Wars - - Middle East (and others? China? Russia?)

Social Collapse - - Pinko-commie liberals, other enablers, and niggers

I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with your story, but I like it, and I see the basis for every part of your story in every news story of today. (I mean, I can tell you are going into the inevitable collapse of Empire, I just wonder if we get to rebuild?)

[SnuffySmith]

VIII

Demetrius Cook, a nigger; which no amount of political correctness could disguise, was complaining again. The Arby’s parking lot was empty and the restaurant closed and out of business.

“Damn, man! Why dint white folks keep some o dem fas’ food places open jus’ for dey own selves!”

“Fug, mane! Is dat why we came allaway down here, so you could get some Mickey Dees?”

This was Antonio Wright. Along with Demetrius, his brother Marcus Wright, Troy Brown, and Marion Meldon (aka “Mary”), Antonio (aka “Tone-yo”) was far from his home turf in Chicago’s South Side. At present they were in Bloomington, Illinois doing a “Bonnie and Clyde ride.” What that meant was stealing food and gasoline for their ghetto mobile and generally terrorizing the public.

“Shee-it man! If I wanted Mickey Dees, I’da stayed in Chicago!”

“Boo-shit!” said Mary. “You be outta yo fuggin’ min’ if you go payin’ two hunnerd an’ fifty dolla fo’ a little kiddie cheeseburger!”

“I dint say nuffin’ about payin’ fo’ food, bitch!” Demetrius exclaimed. I’se jus sick o eatin poke an’ beans an’ shee-it outta cans every day!”

“Then what the fug you gonna eat, foo!” Marcus added, “You think some white bitch farm wife gonna make you a cheese omlet?”

This last bit was an oblique reference to the day before. They raided a farmhouse near Pontiac, Illinois and found a chicken coop and at least 18 eggs in the hen house. The eggs were fresh enough to eat, but none of the gangstas knew anything about cooking them. Instead, they threw them at each other for sport.

“Damn, nigga,” Demetrius said back, “weren’t you sayin’ yestaday you was tired o eatin’ Spaghetti-Os an’ shee-it?”

“That I is,” answered Marcus. “But what the fug we gonna do when we cain’t get no mo?”

Millions of Americans were already thinking the same thing. Long neglected skills such as gardening and canning were making a comeback. Store bought food was increasingly expensive. As previously mentioned, robbing grocery stores wasn’t as easy as in former times. This didn’t mean they couldn’t be robbed, it just meant that it usually required an armed assault on the stores’ premises.

Demetrius and his fellow gangstas were waiting for the 09:50 a.m. Greyhound bus to arrive. Their intent was to see if anyone was getting off the bus and follow them home or to any other convenient place to rob them. Security wasn’t as tight out away from big cities. They didn’t want to wait at the Greyhound stop itself until shortly before the bus arrived. The bus stop was located near the I-55/I-74 and Highway 150 interchange; an area of once thriving truck-stops, motels, fast food joints and other roadside services.

Fewer cars were on the roads these days and there was greater demand for bus service, but it was still expensive. Demetrius had it figured that people wealthy enough to afford to travel by bus had other things worth stealing.

“Well, well, well, what habs we here?” Demetrius asked as he pointed to the white woman with short, blond hair on a 10 speed bicycle approaching from the east on West Market Street. “Let’s see if she habs sum-fun fo’ us!”

Officer Jesus Miguel Alvarado-Gonzales was sitting in an unmarked patrol car in the likewise empty Culver’s parking lot across Highway 150 opposite the Arby’s parking lot. He had report of a vehicle matching the description of the gangsta’s car being seen in connection with crimes in the area. He was keeping it under observation when he, too, noticed the woman on her bicycle. Then he saw the five black men exit the car to intercept the woman.

[Iron Worker]

Loving it…

Keep it coming…