Saturday, Dec. 12, 1972

Entry #557

The Ballistics Table was set to key off at nine o’clock sharp, Thursday. The Orion center eliminated its major operator by five after nine on the dot. His entire family was rounded up and shipped to an unknown continent just before his execution. The Table stopped dead in its tracks only after billions of dollars were spent to build the thing.

The seriousness and the secrecy with which I write this journal can only be expressed by my severe need to get the truth out there; that the Orion Corporation is as beneficial to the Human Race as a bottle of uncorked Black Plague. 

The ballistics table in question was set on its ear by none other than my self. I take little pride in this since the bastard that dreamed the thing up was my self also.  At the last minute before the Table was to expunge a target simply for test reasons alone, I downloaded a virus into the Tables onboard main frame; effectively letting the table run its wheels for a good hundred years or so under the Earths surface.

 The Table was a 30 mile long by 2 mile wide underground behemoth of a weapon set to burrow deeper into the Earth at the head of Orion Corps whim.  The table would snake itself into the deepest, most undetectable areas of soil, bypassing lakes, rivers and oceans to achieve its destination. 

When asked by the Orion Corporation heads when I presented the Table; “How will it work? How will it burrow into the Earth without needing to be manned or piloted?”

To explain I take a direct quote from one of the Orion heads files upon viewing the first successful test of the table;

“ The entire “face” of the table, all 30 miles of it, is equipped with radar sensitivity that sends data in a nanosecond to the mind of the “creature”. That data is accepted immediately and an assessment made by the mind in as much time as it takes a hummingbird wing to flap once. 

The information is then blasted back to the motor-way of the table, giving it new direction unless that thought is overridden by the controller; Orion Corp.”

That was how the table knew where to move. Give it a depth under the entirety of Earths’ surface and a destination and off it went.  Hence it was dubbed; The Ballistics Table.

Upon arrival, the table would bring itself to just about a mile underneath its target, let off a series of high pitched frequencies that would create earth quakes and be completely safe and undamaged as buildings crumbled above it on the surface.

The frequencies were set to make any creature, human, dog, bird or cat, immediately sick. They would begin vomiting and doubling over thereby becoming paralyzed and at the mercy of the buildings they were in or next to. 

This would make short work for the Clean-up crews Orion would send in who had been waiting at the Tables destination with the appropriate headgear to block the frequencies and not begin vomiting themselves.  As the signal was given, the team would move in and dispose of any remaining life in the area that the table had missed.

The extraction of the Clean-up crew was next and that took Huey helicopters.

All told, the destruction of a major city, its people and the surrounding areas would take little less than half a day.

No more messy, long winded occupations. No more drawn out expenses put on the American peoples. No more televised battles that the President would have to disavow or claim ignorance to.

You see, this was all important. This was all encompassing; to give the President of the United States of America total autonomy in all things war-like and to also be completely able to claim ignorance if the press would have ever found out about our little weapon.

That’s the Orion Corporations’ motto: “Security, Economy, Excellence, and Secrecy.”

I am sending this report to all the News Media in the Nation and the rest of the free World.

I am enclosing security tapes that encompass the creation and production of the ballistics table.  These tapes also include images of visitors to the facility; the Orion Corporations clients including and not limited to; the President of the United States of America.

I am sending copies of my files and scientific research as well as directions as to where the originals are kept so that authentication of my work will be available to corroborate the evidence I have presented and proof will be evident that the information is not fabricated.

I will not be here to see the Orion Corporation brought to its’ knees.

I will not be able to witness the trial of the President of the United States of America.

I will only be able to breathe with a clean consciousne

The lights just went out.

Earth quakes

I shudder to think they found a reroute to the main

I am feeling   nauseu

    They found a way

They found

  me

Leaving

this in wall safe in hope s someday

    Oswadjs909  mlpoas   will fin’po  

   WILL FIND

                                                                                the end.

Smart money says; "Get "Squirt" the fuck done and quit your bitching." 

I look at it as a whole and think; "Dear GOD what did I chew off...?"

Followed by; "Why couldn't this be Conan?"

Followed by; "What's in the fridge?"

Maybe I will be more useful when I'm dead. That'd be nice.  I'd like to be useful someday.

There are many reasons why I'd want to cover a tune from Mastadons Leviathan...especially "Iron Tusk".  One of the other reasons is that when Zito (Lds for the DSV) and I were at my bee-day dinner last year, he and I were talking about Star Wars and Mastadons newest album; "Crack the Skye" and how much that album made me wanna pick up a guitar and start playing.  Zito asked if I played and I told him about my bass playing for the last some-odd years to which Zito replied; "DUDE! You should TOTALLY join the Deep Sea Vents!" .  To which I responded; "The...what...?"
So Mastadon MIGHT just be responsible for me joining the Deep Sea Vents. Blame THEM!! :)
www.youtube.com/watch

The next few videos are songs I threw into the fray after thinking about Bryans question.

Another Dethklok song you just CAN'T "Fuk wit'!"...much like the Wu Tang...
www.youtube.com/watch

And last but certainly NOT least,...another of my all time favorite songs...lotsa bass never hurts my feelings anyway ;)
www.youtube.com/watch
pt2;
www.youtube.com/watch

And there they are.  If you have a free moment, I'd love to hear thoughts, song ideas, etc. 

Thanks fer listnin'!

It's the nerves.  It shoots through and shatters your arm or your leg or your entire body.  It collapses you and your ability to perform. That's what happens when pressure builds inside you and you don't have that confidence in yourself to believe that you can complete the task at hand.  I was fifteen years old when game six of the Mets/Red Sox series happened in nineteen eighty six.  I watched the ball go through Bill Buckners legs and watched the winning run score from third base.  The Mets won the series and Bill Buckners life was changed forever.  Because he lost his nerve.  He lost his confidence.  Lost his Chutzpah, his Vim, his vigor, his whatever.  And it happens to us all.  Everyday or somedays.  It happens to us.  Buckner had to leave his home.  He had to move his entire family because of the death threats from angry Red Sox fans.  Those bastards didn't want to wait another seventy years for a shot at the pennent but Buckner had given them no choice.  Well; all those bastards that called out Buckner? All those bastards that made his life a living hell because he lost his nerve?  All of them; Hypocrites.  THey all pinned their hopes and dreams on that one man.  How could anyone live up to that?  You don't.  You can't and you shouldn't have to.   We do this to ourselves also.  It's not just the fault of the fans.  I'm pretty sure Buckner worked himself up when he saw that ball bouncing towards him on the first base line.  He fucked up.  Big fuckin' deal.  You know what? It happens to the best of us.

I never got a chance to write about that game.  I never thought about writing about it.  That game is still with me.  I'm watching the movie "Game six" starring Micheal Keaton and Robert Downey, Jr. and it's all about the time of the series centralized and realized (fictionally) in New York City.  It's a good movie and even though I'm watching the movie for the first time even after the Sox have two pennent wins tucked securely in their belts, I still get choked up thinking about that game.  What the FUCK is that all about?  How is a fuckin' GAME that important to me?  I don't know.  I may never know.  Maybe it's a part of my history and I'm all nostalgic for it.  Maybe I'll NEVER get over it even though the Sox are now champions in my lifetime. 

Maybe it's because the game; THAT game; Game six, meant something more than just Baseball.

And maybe not.
 

Stupid phone keeps mumbling at me.  I shut it off without looking at it as I walk into the grocery just a few blocks from my place.  There's a girl inside with purple headphones on.  She's smiling at me and I wonder why.  I walk past and go try to find...coffee.  Yeah...coffee...it hits me like a punch in the arm.  I can't...was there something else I needed to get...?  The girl is following me now.  I've seen her in three different isles and every time I look at her while I'm trying to find what ever else it is I need...she looks at me and smiles.  It's weird.  Do I know her?  Should I recognize her?  I don't.  She's pretty.  I want to touch her.  I want to feel her lips on my face as her hands caress my back and...why the fuck is my phone still buzzing?  I don't get it...what else was I supposed to get...?  Why is my neck itchy...did I get bit last night, or...?  

At the counter the woman looks at me funny.  I want to tell her she's no better than me and I start getting this throbbing...pain...in my face...

I see the girl again.  She's not wearing her headphones anymore...I don't know where they went...she doesn't have any bags or...what...? What did she...? Did she just say something..."Excuse me...did...did you have headphones on...before...?" She smiles at me but in a way that makes me think she's about to take a bite...out of me.  She tells me she did.  But they werent hers and would I like to go talk somewhere...private.  What? Wait...this phone.  This absolutely impossible fucking phone is driving me...there.  Ok.  The...wait...was that a text...? You wanted to ...that's...hey, those are my...she's taking my bags...?

I can't tell how long I've been following the girl with the...not headphones.  It's getting darker out too...the cars...where are the tires?  

Where am I?  The city looks a lot larger than a few minutes ago...ok...so we've gotten into another neighborhood?  Where's...ok...she's still ahead of me...on her phone...smiling over at me...is she calling me?  My phone...no...it's off.  I think.  Wait...was...did SHE text me?  I can't...what's in my pockets...?  Shit....it's...fuck...there's that text...I wonder...

My palms are so sore and they hurt...My head...is so...stabbed...like thousands of tiny daggers....FUCK!!!!!!! Where are the tires....please...please, I need them.  The help me to...What...my arm..it's being lifted...."STOP!!!" A womans voice...her voice telling me she's sorry but we have to go...have to go now...I don't understand...am...

...am I on the ground...?
I'm kneeling on the ground...all my groceries...spillt...I can't feel my knees...and my hands hurt so much...please help me...

"my phone..."  My eyes.  I can't stop rubbing them.  They hurt and I'm tired and I want to go home now...but...she tells me I'm ok...I almost got hit by a Police car...the sirens went off and they blinded me.  She got to me just as I fell.  She's sorry about my coffee...

She takes me behind an old building off the street.  It's very dark but it's warm and I think I know her now.  The girl with the head phones that aren't hers. I think I remember...she bought..no.  I SOLD her some...I had some pills and I sold her some pills....my...my pills...?
I think I sold her my pills...she mentions that if I'm good she'll pay me for some more.  I don't know what she means...OH!  Her hands...! They...they slipped up the inside of ...wow...my shirt...her skin is cool....and the tires....the tires are back...I can't take not touching her...

She's mine and I know it....she's mine and I know it...she's mine....please, she's mine....she's all I need...and the sounds of the wet splashing have come back to me....

The rain has started again and I can't tell what her name is...but I think it's not important....as I know she's mine and what's mine I can always name on my own and she can't stop...can't stop...I can't stop....

...aspirin...

...I was suppossed to get aspirin....oh god....oh no....

My pills....I....I'm so fucked...there's no pills and now....

oh no.

The zipper is cold and wet in my fingers...my pants shrivel up my leg slowly as I glance down at her...she's counting her pills I gave her...I gave her pills....again.  

...and I forgot aspirin. 

My phone is blinking again.  I can see the little red light from the top of the dumpster.  The girl smiles at me and stands...her breasts brush up against my belly and chest and her eyes are...so wide...so dark...and black...it's night and I can see how blac her eyes are.  She's frightening...I need the tires...I tell her this as I push her away...

She's laughing at me...and I get my clothes, phone, wallet....keys?  Where are my....where are my keys....she dangles them in front of me.  Then lobs them to me and they hit me in the arm.  

I'm walking away and I see my phone in my hand...it's can I answer this now?  Ok?   What....where am I?  

"Night time already and you're gone.  I love you.  Where are you?  Call 911 if you are lost.  Come home to me.  Heather."

I need the tires so bad....I need them sooo bad...I can't...

I can't.....

I can't.......

 

I need to draw more.  I've been on kind of a down slope lately.  It's amazing how tired a 6:30 am job will make you.  Well; will make ME.  I'm a night person.  I like staying up until 4 in the morning drawing and then getting up around noon the next day.  I hate mornings.  They suck unless I'm on vacation.  I have no use for them other than the sun rising.  

I get home and all I want to do is eat, sleep, shit, drink beer and watch movies with Shawna.  Fuck everything else.  Then there's the book I need to finish.  Yup.  I'm still working on that.  I've recently learned that we have no set deadline.  This I woudnt normally think would be good for me but in this case, it is.  I've moved five times in just under seven months.  I've moved in with Shawna and work at unGodly hours of the day.  I'm fucking tired a lot and that's saying something.  I have a bad back that takes a turn for the worse when I don't get enough sleep and work too hard physically.  And I have a very physical job.  

Tack that onto the fact that I've been pushing my work further and further since I left the Kubert School in '98 by sending new submissions to guys like Dark Horse, Image and other companies, working in the gaming industry for 2 years doing spot ilustrations and getting any freelance job you can shake a stick at.  All that and the tired make Ethan no-want-to-draw-anymore.  Or at least; for a little while.  

So I'm ok.  I'm bummed about my having no energy to draw but things are getting more towards my normal self lately and for that I'm very happy.  Things I'm looking forward to include Shawna getting me a scanner for my birthday and my buddy Mike helping me out with photoshop so now I can literally do my own comics; color and all.  The other thing I'm looking forward to is a project I want to work up to send to Dark Horse.  I mean, Dark Horse IS in my back yard so I figure; what the hell?

The project is gunna be very simple, mideviel witchery based idea with a very purposeful plot for the main character.  Her name I am very excited about and is the nickname of a very good friend of mine who let me use it.  I ain't tellin' just yet as I want to work up a few pages and present them/post them after I get my scanner and skill set all worked up.  I even have the type for the title all ready to roll in my head.  The first arc will be four issues which will have the ability to branch off from their in the way Hellboy does with each installment being the next four to six issues.  I've always liked that approach.  I like the way Remender does that for Fear Agent also.  It's a good tactic and one that the publishing companies can get behind due to the fact that you are essentially only printing four books at a time.  It's a cheaper production cost for them.  Especially if you want to do those four issues in a trade paperback format.  This way, I'm excited, the company can make a buck and the reader gets a full story every time.  Mike Mignola; you magNIFicent BASTARD!!!!

 

I'll get to go to the SDCC.  I'm actually really bummed about not going.  I've never gone.  I went to the sister con; Wizard con back in '05 or so and it was fun but I know a bunch more people and am pencilling for Arcana and now; I really wanna go and hang with the folks I've been working with for the last year.  Bummer.  Stupid money.  Stupid NO money.  Stupid economy.  Fine.  I'll stop moping and go draw the book that's due.  

I guess in retrospect, having a job to produce a book ain't so bad :)