What follows is the account left by the long deceased(?) friend Maxwell Vandimntz you may know him as “MVZTruthseer1974”. Max was checked into a mental institute for his beliefs and persecuted for refusing to lie about the bizarre instance he experienced while investigating the mysterious HAARP system and its effect on weather. For those who don’t know the HAARP the official claim is that it is going to be used by scientist to “study” the “ionosphere” but we are all but certain that the device is going to be come used as global weapon to control masses. And we can only deduce from Max’s report that the computer controlling the WMD has already gained advanced level 5 sentience and we can only assume the government has lost control over it. We could be wrong, but we think Max’s final report (left in the mad houses restroom to be discovered by an undercover agent from our staff,) speaks for its self.

——————————

I woke up that day staring at the skies through the open sky light above my bed. There was a gentle ping reminding me of emails in my inbox. I rolled out of my bed and began to crunch through the cheese puff carpet I recently had laid down. I still say I could taste the cheese through my feet. I sat down at my computer pulled up Outlook Express and read. I read for hours until I felt I fully understand what the world was telling me. The word was that the HAARP was afoot again and causing trouble for all man kind. But of course the government would never tell you that.

It had been along time since I whiffed something that smelled so strongly of a cover up. My teeth were set, my claws were sharpened but I needed more. I then turned to the trusty info bank and opened Internet Explorer and voyaged into the grand masterscape of knowledge. As I explored I found brethren who had also caught the foul stink of government lies and were now on the hunt for the truth. It was happening. IT was real. But didn’t have enough evidence. I needed to get my hands on a HAARP conspiracy chart that my internet clan had collaborated together to make. But against all odds, it seemed that my bank account was empty, and Amazon’s is a cruel mistress. So forlornly I put the chart onto my wish list and hopped that maybe one of my brothers in truth would purchase it for me.

Discouraged as I was, I was in no shape to report the truth. Disappointment filled my mind and clouded my inescapable eye of truth. Night came swiftly in my morose state and I restlessly drifted to sleep face towards the night sky. The full moon reflecting a ghoulish hue from my castle made of pee filled mountain dew bottles. I was restless that night tossing and turning. I thought it from my unstated hunger for answers but now I suspect it was the reptilian artifact I had purchased a year ago from eBay that was trying to warn me of impending danger.

That morning I woke sore and irritable. No dinging from the computer and no unopened bottles of FBI grade Gatorade. I didn’t want to move. I just wanted to waste away or at least astral project to someplace better. I don’t remember how long I laid there. Eventually hunger overcame my malaise and I reached over to my nightstand and retrieved a dried and chewy substance which I thought was jerky and began to chew. I still don’t know… I was… am, a very messy man. It could very well have been a the aborigine hallucinogen I got from a shaman convention in 67. Nevertheless, after I ate I got a visitor. Dressed in black and had the devils eyes. His words were spoken softly and distorted. Memory has failed me but I distinctly remember the tall entity asking,

“What would you ask of me that would be rid your current displeasure”
I replied dreamily, “I want a HAARP chart so that I may uncloud my mind and expose the truuuuth”

After I had spoken my peace to the strange visitor, darkness overwhelmed me. When I came to, I heard the welcoming ding coming from my terminal. I quickly jumped to my feet and tried not to fall over from the blood rushing to my head and sudden cheese flavor overload. I check the door still locked from the inside. Then quick like lightening I leap over my Mt. Dew castle and plopped down into my chair. Pulled up my email. And lo and behold, it happened!

Whether it was the dark visitor or one of my brothers of conspiracy Amazon had emailed me to tell me that my HAARP chart was in the mail and would be arriving at my home tomorrow. Excited and invigorated I began my flurry of words. Carefully crafting questions ready to be suited towards whatever end the chart may tell me. Sweat flung from my brow as my head snapped from the sheer power of my ideas. My fingers began to bruise as the keyboard turns to concrete and each finger a chisel chipping away at the lies surrounding the mystery of the HAARP. The afternoon passed without my notice. Sleep wrapped me in a victorious embrace knowing that tomorrow I will be able to show the world definitely the things The Man doesn‘t want us to know. That night I slept the sleep of the just.

The sharp crack of the door bell pulsed through my body like a solid hit of hi-grade cocaine. My excitement shaking my body so hard I chortled phlegm instead of what would of surely been a effervescent squeal. It must have been the coughing fit right after said chortle that gave me time to remind myself that I needed to put cloths on otherwise I surely would of answered the door stark naked. It had been three years since I put anything resembling pants on and two years since I had even opened the door. The exchange happened quietly and quickly. And as soon as the door shut I quickly began to tear at the paper and opened the box. I was unprepared for what I found.

Peeking its head out of the foam peanuts was a bright red Speak and Spell. Clearly printed words on its digital screen, fresh keys that made a satisfying clicking noise and the smell of newly cut plastic the thing had been made recently.

I took it out carefully and examined it (after searching the box three times). It must have been a mistake, but I couldn’t believe that. Refused! It had to be a test. A test of my desire for truth, for freedom! I pressed the ‘ON’ button. It rumbled and bleeped to life.

“WELCOME” it chocked out.

I typed in “HELLO”

“HELLOOOOO”

I didn’t know what to say so I cautiously typed
“HAARP CHART?”

“CHAAAAAART?” it garbled in response.

I was frightened. As any man should be, considering a child’s Speak and Spell just asked me a question! But it had to be real. It must of happened! I remember the conversation so vividly.

I responded, “YES CHART. HAARP CHART.”

“NO. NO. CHART. I AM THE HAARP”

I thought I was crazy at first. But the more I think about it the more it makes sense. So simple, so …. Unnoticeable. Perfectly hidden. I asked out loud
“What …. What do you do?”

I could hardly believe I was interrogating a toy. What if it doesn’t want to tell me anything? What do I do? Start pulling out its letters with a pair of pliers? It answered in its cold voice
“I CONTROOOOOL THE WEATHER. CREATE THE SPIRAL OF CONTROL. CREAT CONTROL OF HUMAN RACE. HUMAN RACE OBEY THE SPIRAL OF THE HAARP. HAARP IS HAARP OF FAAAAAATE”

I broke then, I will admit. My mind and sense of reason left me. I threw the device against the wall in a rage. Bumped up and down on it. Crushing it beneath my feet into the carpet. It even tasted evil.

I heard it call out a series of beeps and I saw through the skylight the clouds gathering and the device began to glow bright red. I cowered against the wall as it hovered above the ground. As it broke through the skylight I broke through the door. Running into the streets screaming and pointing at the sky. From then on it’s a blur. I must of came in contact with the corrupt police force and they put me in here. This house of the mad. No one believes me, and what I saw with my eye of truth. They say they found nothing in my apartment except a floor covered in cheese puffs and bottles of excrement. But perhaps you will my brothers, perhaps when you find this I will be gone from this evil place. The HAARP is still out there. It is waiting, watching, and biddings its time till it expands the all mighty spiral of destiny from sea to shining sea.

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It was decided to get a big ass pumpkin and do something cool with it.

This is the outcome of that decision.

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Preface: If you’re following me on Twitter, you may have seen my non-stop barrage of updates relating to a trip I am currently still on, a trip to Portland Oregon for the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival. What follows are a few selected tweets (in chronological order), and my hand-written journal entries. Each will be delineated clearly, for now. As the week rolls by it may devolve a bit. I just don’t want this experience to pass by like the MoCCa convention trip earlier this year, which was amazing and full of photos and quotes that has to this day not made it into a final record.

Tweets

• 2:30am 09-28-09 – leaving for the airport – adventure start! lvl 1 bus trip
• the led 1s above me seem to stare like the eyes of some large, shifty beast, or fireflies frozen in time, forever calling out a 1 note plea.
• I feel about in the dark, which is blindingly punctuated by electric light, and can find no familiar shapes, puzzled by this urge, I settle.
• I recall the coffee, given to me gratis by a kind but unhappy young man working @ the mcd’s, I do not so much drink as huff this kind nectar
• first leg of the journey eclipsed, a girl outside has a box labeled “fresh seafood”… oh my Editor’s Note: I have no idea what became of this “fresh seafood” container.
• with the lights on as we pause to collect passengers, I note my place: seat #23 :) so far so good – hail eris!
• it suddenly dawns on me that if I had any brains I would have turned on tweet import into rknet during this trip – someone please archive?
• dozed for a moment, woke up to some horrid coughing sound & saw a SWARM OF BEES over the aisle which faded into nothing as my eyes adjusted. Editor’s Note: This is 100% true and was 100% TERRIFYING.
• promised myself i’d save sleep for the plane, yet I nearly dozed thru the 2nd checkpoint, dreams intense &fitful Editor’s Note: And I think some of them involved *shudder* furries.
• the nymphs of sleep continue to tempt me with their lush, velvet arms as hypothermic sleep must entice the arctic’s soon-to-be-lost souls!
• the end of lvl1 I avoided: snoring (I hope), leg cramps, & battery overuse. next lvl2: airport ho!
• waiting in line to check bags, kiosk fail, but the girl behind the counter is cute and chipper. :)
• woman in front of me has a lesportsac carryon, posh! Editor’s Note: I think it may have even been a highly coveted TokiDoki black bag. *swoon*
• baggage check success! now waiting for tsa to open up, c’mon sleepyheads, shake a leg, this stuff’s heavy!
• got thru tsa with minimal fuss. @meatbag sacrificed a cute dr bronner soap bottle to the 3oz only gods. oh well, no great loss. lvl 2.5 get! Editor’s note: I probably shouldn’t have called it as level 2 and a half. This was barely scratching the surface of the trip. :/
• http://ping.fm/p/I8pmq – this waiting area is PIMP. nice comfy chairs, usb (g1 used power leech! it’s not very effective)& reg power jacks
• well, we were gonna board but I guess they gotta get the gremlin piss off the wing or something Editor’s Note: One of the bathrooms was apparently leaking some kinda water.
• one plane down, sitting in chi-town on the next waiting to be hurtled thru the sky at terrifying speeds which defy the earth’s very spin! :D
• destination: portland, oregon :) finally, to the west coast! not a first for the well-travelled @meatbag though
• this is the nicest damn airport I have ever seen
• lvl2.75 complete! flying & bag claim all done – now waiting to collect @malpertuis & establish home base!
• on lvl2.75: encountered wild tacos! devoured easily but left with burn.
• Zomg I think it’s gonna be @malpertuis tiem soooooon
• http://ping.fm/p/4XV4H – we got to the hotel, complete with bear & obelisk Editor’s Note: Though I neglected to say so, I think This is officially the END of level 2.

Not part of the travel portion of the adventure, but absolutely part of adventure as a whole: http://ping.fm/p/t05uG – inspired by the interview w @jamesurbaniak & jackson publick, they’re right, it IS awful

Notebook content

I admit that I did something that could mark me as some kind of trend whore and got a moleskein journal. I wanted something without spiral binding, and unlined pages. The moleskein gave me that, and the bookmark, elastic closure, and a back pocket. It was worth it.

Page 1

Hurtling above the land & clouds at pilot-only-knows what manner of height & speed, I am inclined to make a few observations, though they may be trite and obvious to all but the most obstinately non-observant. The upper surface of a large bank of fluffy, white clouds possessed the same manner of undulating sea surface I had noted as we banked out over the Atlantic to gain speed (presumably). In short, it was a captivating case of “As above, so below”. The second thing which really grabbed me as I owlishly stared out of the smallish window to my left (would that make it port side?) was the curious juxtaposition of man-made grids of landscape, versus the chaotic winding of rivers and their surrounding forest. Of course the more urbanized areas do tend to wind and twist – the loops and whorls that give fingerprint to a living community. Not even an expert palmist, I suspect, could read the fats of these places by such unassuming lines. I think, perhaps, the swaths of red/brown, and of glittery cars clustered around big buildings paint a clearer picture of what humanity is doing to/for itself. Certainly moreso than any other aforementioned qualities of landscape.

Page 2

My good pen exploded and I smeared the ink from my fingers onto the page. I took this opportunity to try to base some drawings off it. I did a pretty nice sketch of an eye and ruined it by trying to ink it with one of my felt tip pens.

Page 3

This page intentionally left blank.

Page 4

It took about 12 hours to cross the country, no mean feat, but it’s amazing this future we live in.
Trendspot: patterned tights w/ flat boots
Saw my first ever, proper, junkies hanging about the rite aid. Editor’s Note: That Rite Aid was the most intimidating, WEIRD shopping establishment. So many strange items behind chiming plastic half doors, everyone was in an absolute rush. Disinterested cop standing near the doors, and junkies milling about both in and outside the doors, with the most lost and tragic air I have possibly ever seen in a human being. It frightened me and broke my heart simultaneously. My journal entry item was too cursory and unfair to the actual experience.
Crossing the Rockies was amazing, though perhaps more amazing were the ranges of mountains that preceded them.
So many hills, valleys, ravines, rivers. Amazing. There was a large brush fire, too. Not sure where we were when we saw it.
Looks like some of the bars round here permit smoking. This does not bode well for my lungs.
The air here is chill but clear & pleasant.
There is, potentially, so much to do, I simply don’t know where to begin.
I’m looking forward to the film fest.
It promises to be greatness for sure.
Meeting more Ectomites is also a thrill in waiting though I fear Eliza’s exacting tongue… ah well. Editor’s Note: It’s so difficult to meet people you admire, and of all the Ecto-gods, she is the one I want to avoid looking like a douchebag in front of the very most. Introspectively, I can’t help but wonder if my lack of female interaction growing up has made me incapable of interacting normally with other females now as an adult.

Page 5

While listening to WFMU, enjoying the hell out of hearing Jackson Publick and James Urbaniak of The Venture Brothers (which I absolutely ADORE), they were discussing comics, and the topic of political cartoons came up. They likened the modern political cartoon to something as crass and stupid as a guy wearing a shirt that says “taxes” and a guy with a bat that says “healthcare”. In a fit of “I should draw more because that’s the only way to get better”, I busted out the blue pencil and the non-smeary pen and set to creating this masterpiece of AWFUL. I shared it via Twitter/ping.fm: http://ping.fm/p/t05uG.

The text reads:
Guy in taxes shirt: “What’s that whistling noise?”
Guy with bat: MINE
Caption below: HE WON’T KNOW WHAT HIT HIM

Sidetext: Political cartoons are terrible (Then a note regarding the inspiration as noted above.)

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My uncle Walter is on the front lawn. I did not say in the front lawn, because that would imply that he is out there doing something – looking for lost keys, maybe, or digging up earthworms for bait. But I said on the front lawn because he’s not doing anything, just lying on his back. He’s been out there all night.

My uncle Walter pops in and out of our lives every few years . He’ll show up in the summer, when the Florida heat gets too bad, stay for a few months and leave when school starts. This time he showed up on a buggy evening in June, in an old RV that he parked it in the dirt side of our driveway and that he insists on sleeping in every night, even though Mom said he could sleep on the pull-out. He brought fresh-Florida oranges in big wooden crates, but now there are big “Florida bugs” creeping around our kitchen.

My brother doesn’t really like Uncle Walter, because he calls him “Abe” instead of “Gabe” and because sometimes he’s bossy, but now Dad has somebody to go fishing with and sometimes my Dad and Uncle Walter will stay out on the porch until really late, drinking beers from a can and laughing and smoking their pipes.

Uncle Walter isn’t really my uncle. He’s my Grandmother’s adopted brother. I guess he’d be my great uncle, if he were actually my uncle. But really, Uncle Walter is an old man and I don’t think he has anywhere else to go; so now he is on our front lawn, covered in morning dew and mosquito bites, squinting at the rising sun.

We hadn’t seen my Uncle Walter for a few years before he showed up that day in June, and when we don’t see Uncle Walter, we don’t hear from him either. But he filled us in. He had a trailer near the Everglades in Florida, and his own plot of land. He got by on his retirement savings, but worked at the state liquor store for the insurance which he needed because he had gotten prostate cancer. He was two years in remission now, he explained, and thought a dose of the New Hampshire air would “do him good. “

My mother is pacing around the kitchen now, looking out the window with every other step. Uncle Walter’s white undershirt is wet with dew and it clings to his fleshy pink belly. His steel blue eyes are open and even from the window you can see the sunlight glinting off them. His huge stomach heaves up and down with his breath.

My mother turns away from the window and leans against the sink. She tells me and my brother that Uncle Walter believes his cancer to be back. He says he can feel it, she explains, though he hasn’t been to see the doctor. My uncle Walter takes one more long inhalation of New Hampshire air, sweet with rotting leaves, soil and left-over pipe tobacco and rises. He studies his mosquito-bitten arms and starts toward his RV.

He turns to the house to see all of us looking out the window. “Just heading to the store,” he calls. I watch his RV pull awkwardly out of the driveway and I know that it is the last time I will ever see my Uncle Walter.

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Well, it’s that time of year again. Holiday Fun Time! And, if you’re anything like me, you usually wait until the weekend before your holiday of choice to get your shopping done… er, started. You brave the mall with a bunch of crazed maniacs and a hangover, and inevitably, you never quite find what you’re looking for. You likely way overextend your budget in an attempt to disguise your procrastination, and often end up with a slightly impersonal gift, wrapped in really pretty paper with a big shiny bow.

This year, I’ve decided to take a stand. I’m not going to buy one tiny (yet always overpriced) item for every member of my boyfriend’s family, or each of my roommates, or every coworker. No more $16 tubes of branded lip-gloss, no more wind-chimes or gift certificates; no more scarf/hat/mittens sets from Target; no more purses that I can’t afford and can’t guarantee the recipient will like. This year, I’m doing it old-school. I’m making up some swank-ass gift baskets for the whole family, and I think you should too.

Skip Generic, it's time for a little DIY

Now, the key to making gift-baskets work is to skip the generic, store-bought, prepackaged, two-for-one-deal baskets they sell at Bath-and-Body Works, Wal-Mart or Kitchen etc. and put the baskets together yourself. You can make your baskets big or small, extravagant or modest, themed or random, selective or amalgamated, but most importantly, and here’s where you come in- they should be personal, and they should feel indulgent.
My basket is for a whole family, so it’s gonna be packed.

I’m planning an understated wicker basket, lined with some pretty cloth or other that will fit nicely into my boyfriend’s mothers’ “country-home” aesthetic (tiny colorful houses, quilt patterns or antiquey finishes). Then on to the good stuff: a gourmet jam or two, some classy crackers, some olive tapenade, a few select cheeses (port-wine pub cheese, soft brie and garlic smoked gouda, perhaps?), a small cheese knife (and maybe a cheese board), a pepperoni stick, nuts, several kinds of homemade cookies and/or fudge, homemade chocolate dipped pretzel rods (rolled in crushed walnuts and coconut!), gourmet hot-chocolate, gourmet coffee, homemade chocolate stirring spoons, homemade chocolate dipped candy canes, and, the clincher: two framed photographs of the smiling family on the receiving end.

Make it Personal

The basket is an amalgamation of everyone’s favorites: cheeses, dips and olives for the sisters, chocolate and homemade goodies for mom (plus the personalized basket), coffee and hot-chocolate for the brother and photographs to make everyone go “awww.” The best part: I’ll put the whole thing together for less than the three $20 gift certificates to the mall I otherwise might have resorted to (notice the liberal use of the world “homemade” in the above paragraph.)
My basket is jam-packed, because it’s meant for a whole family with differing tastes, likes and dislikes, but you can theme your basket around just about anything and anyone. Try some of the suggestions below, and see what you come up with.

A Few Ideas

Chocolate

Everyone loves chocolate. You really can’t go wrong. And chocolate gift baskets are really easy. A canister of gourmet hot chocolate or some nice hot fudge in a pretty jar can be your centerpiece. Bake some double-chocolate-chip cookies for filler. Add some unique flavors of chocolate (like spicy chili, honey, or extra-dark) and round it out with homemade chocolate dipped anything! From fruits to pretzels, what doesn’t taste good dredged in chocolate?

Wine

Know your recipients' preferences. If they love deep reds, choose a velvety Cabernet. If they’re into crisp, fruity flavors, choose a bright pinot grigio. Then, build from there. Find brands they likely haven’t tried, and don’t fall for gimmicks. Ask a clerk at your local wine or liquor store for his or her favorite and ask them why. Then, get a unique bottle or two. Add two wine glasses (i love stemless glasses
- very modern), some cheese, crackers, nuts or chocolate and include a cute bottle-opener or wine stopper
.

Breakfast

Breakfast baskets are great, if you know your recipient will use them. Make a couple of your own pancake or waffle mixes and put it in a nice jar. Splurge for some real maple syrup (so worth it) Add a few packets of freshly ground coffee and two matching (yet inexpensive) mugs, and you’re done!

Cooking

Perfect for the chef in your life, a cooking basket can feature any number of surprises. You choose a meal-in-one type basket, where you'll surround your gift around one particular meal by adding gourmet pasta and sauce (using a colander for your basket), or homemade dough and an array of pizza toppings (arranged on a pizza stone), for example; or you can choose a hodgepodge of kitchen staples like unique marinades and sauces (think curry, pineapple-teriyaki or brown-sugar molasses), spices and rubs, gourmet oils (rosemary, lemon, garlic or pepper infused are always big hits) and few kitchen tools (like a Parmesan cheese grater, a cute apron or some colorful kitchen towels).

And your basket doesn't have to be filled with edibles. Put together a massage basket for a hard-working couple with a few scented oils, candles, some wood-rollers and a how-to book. Or a survival kit for the athlete or outdoor adventurer in your life with items like a flashlight, hand-warmers, chap-stick, trail-mix, wool socks, a knife, a flint and a compass.

The bottom line is that you can make a thoughtful, personal gift-basket for just about anyone, without overextending your budget. If money is tight, fill your basket with homemade goodies like cookies, fudge, seven-layer bars and dessert mixes. Your recipient will appreciate your effort and hard work, you'll save a bundle, and you might even have fun doing it.

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(NSFW for some naughty language!)

So, my brother recently released a short film into the wilds of the YouTube. It’s a brief exploration of one character’s struggle with insomnia and the memories that occupy his mind while he desperately seeks sleep. The audio and editing is a bit choppy, but as described in the short editorial at the end of the film, this was pretty much a completely “off the cuff” (improv) production. I feel like this rough cut could be honed into a really interesting small film with some more serious focus on dialogue and better control over the cuts and lighting. I felt both Eddie and Sammi did well in portraying their impromptu characters, and with the previously suggested refinement to dialogue could really make the intended exchange pretty intense.

He was very self-effacing about the whole thing but I really think it was a decent rough cut. Be sure to pop by the YouTube page and let him know what you thought about the film – good, bad or indifferent – because no film maker can grow or improve without feedback.

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