August 22nd, 2007
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A couple of days in Sabala's could cure the plague.
I was feeling wonderful, and had gotten to know the lovely lady again, but planewalkers get antsy after a brief stay anywhere. So, it was time to be off again. I was going to go back to my home plane for a visit; to see if anybody else I knew had been taken off by the UFO's. It's really a terrible problem, but nobody's come up with a solution for it just yet. The aliens are always one step ahead of us whenever we try something new to fight them.
I have a feeling they're led by a planewalker, but I haven't found them out yet. As soon as I do, they're going to get a stern lecture on the rights of individuals to be free from kidnapping, and then a quick disintegration ray in the face.
I came out free from the disorientation that usually accompanies leaving the mid-planes. When you go back home, there's no need for adjustment; your cells already belong there. The conjunction to my home plane from Sabala's is in Babylonia, the capital of the North American Confederation. It's also where I was born, and where my parents lived until they were abducted by the UFO's when I was fourteen. That's when I decided to go out planewalking, since the UFO's liked to come back for the rest of your family a member at a time.
Babylonia's a huge city, about twelve million people, and it sprawls around the largest port in my world, on the gulf coast of North America. If it weren't for the unfortunate UFO infestations around the city, more people would see us as the cultural center of the world. But, a little hint of danger, and the wimpy little types who like to attend opera and the theater abandon us. What are you going to do?
Some of the defectors are OK guys, though, and I know a few of them. I walked up to the house of one of them, Wilhemina Barclett. She took a human name when she defected, but doesn't have the best taste, if you get my drift. I rang her bell and waited.
"Hello?" Her voice rang out on the intercom, and then her face appeared on the little screen. "Oh, Gabriel!" she let out a little squeal at seeing me. She's got a head that's shiny as fine china, but she's a sweet and lovely person. "Come in, dear, come in." The door opened for me, and I went into her drawing room, where she ran up and hugged me. "Oh, my dear little man, it's been much too long. Have your found your sexual paradise yet?"
"I'm afraid not, Willie. The quest goes on." She sat me down beside her on a couch, and bustled about preparing me a drink. "I just helped a friend create his paradise, though. Did you ever meet Patrice?"
Her eyes turned from their usual deep green to the dark black almonds that signaled concentration. "I think I have. African gentleman, somewhat disdainful of Europeans?"
"That's Patrice. We put down a rebellion of Europeans in an African-dominated world, and his search is over."
"Oh, my." She handed me a wine glass and sat down beside me, sucking thoughtfully at a smoke-filter. "That must have created quite a bizarre sense of betrayal and disloyalty on your part. How did you cope?"
Willie loves pop-psychology, and she's always trying to analyze me. "I'm OK. After all, they're not my people, right?"
"Perhaps, but they were fellow humans. You come from a democratic tradition, and have always valued free will. I would think it would create at least a few strong feelings." Her eyes turned red with amusement, and I laughed with her.
"Willie, I thought you knew me better than that - I have no strong feelings." I gulped down the wine she'd given me. "I can't afford them."
She looked at me sideways for a minute, then let it drop. She often knows when I won't answer any more questions. I have a feeling she's telepathic, but I can never catch her at it. Aliens; can't live with them, can't live without them. "Have you heard from Ph'ssyank?"
"Not since I led him to the mid-planes. I think he's probably trapped at whatever conjunction he decided to get off at. I'm pretty sure he didn't know how to find one on his own." I finished off the wine and handed her back the glass.
"Would you like more?"
"Please. You know you have the finest cellar on the planet."
She went black with embarrassment, and stumbled over to her bar. I have no idea why she gets so flustered when I compliment her choice in alcohol, but it's the best way to get on her good side if you ever meet her. It's a side trip I highly recommend. Willie's a cutie.
"Where are you off to next?"
She'd given me a different wine, this time, one of her most potent, and it gave me a nice buzz. I set it down to keep myself from getting light-headed. "I don't know. I thought I might look up some of the old crowd here, see if any of them are interested in going off to look for paradise again. Should be good for a laugh or two."
She blew a smoke ring at me. "There might not be too many of your associates left. The city was raided fairly heavily last week. They're still trying to get an accurate account of who's left."
"These people are probably still around. They've avoided raids in the past." I looked at her with concern. There were reprisals against aliens, sometimes, after the raids. "Are you all right? Did anybody try anything?"
"I have certain defensive resources, Gabriel. I am perfectly fine." Her eyes were red again, and I wondered what kind of private jokes were going through her mind. It's maddeningly frustrating to be so close to someone and never really know what they were thinking. "Would you like to stay the night? I just received a new shipment of artwork from Asia that is simply delightful. The artist is an Arythiok who was raised in a small Chinese village; the blend of alien perspective with traditional Chinese subject matter is captivating."
"I'd love to see it, of course, but can I use your phone? I'd like to call a couple of my friends, to let them know I'm in this plane."
"Certainly. You know where I keep everything." She stood and wandered off to her basement gallery. "I'll be enjoying the art when you're finished."
 |
 Robert Mugabe | In 2007, Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe was interviewed by the Alliance for Democracy's representative Peter Greste. Deep concern was raised throughout the Alliance following the death sentence impose upon five security officials of Centurion Rank. Attempting a plea bargain, all five admitted trying to kill prominent black activist Frank Chikane in 1989 by lacing his underwear with a nerve toxin. |
| Rev Chikane, who is now a director in the president's office, has said he did not want to see the men go to prison. Vlok sought forgiveness from Rev Chikane last year by washing his feet. President Mugabe supported the actions of the new South African Government in dealing with Draka-era divisions. Justice was a pre-requisite for reconciliaton in President Mugabe's view. | |
~ variant by Steve Payne from extensive use of original content has been used to celebrate the author's genius. | |
| I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping While my guitar gently weeps I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps | ||
| Pattie Boyd | I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love I don't know how someone controlled you They bought and sold you.  ~ Lyrics to While my guitar gently Weeps - Click to Watch Sample | |
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| The real “Layla” | ||
| After meeting on the set of A Hard Day's Night, Pattie married George Harrison on January 21, 1966, during the heyday of his group, The Beatles. Harrison's friend Eric Clapton, first of The Yardbirds, then of Cream, also fell in love with her. Pattie went on to divorce Harrison on June 9, 1977, and later marry Clapton on March 27, 1979. She and Clapton divorced in June 1988. Harrison and Clapton worked together on While my guitar gently Weeps, a thinly disguised reference to the tragic love triangle between Pattie Boyd and the two guitarists. The lyrics are available at at Lyrics Freak | |
| ~ quotation by Co-Historian Steve Payne from Counter-history – You're the Judge! |
| In 1945, the nuclear bombing of five Japanese cities delivered unconditional surrender, a surprise victory and whole set of new challenges. US President Harry Truman studied a strategic report from the Far Eastern desk at State. It was grim reading. Allied control on the ground was limited to South Australia and New Zealand, the undefeated Japanese Army was still in Country. And so were irregular forces led by the maverick warlords - Mao, Jinnah, Uncle Ho. And General-san Douglas MacArthur and his Filipinos harriers. |
~ variant from Steve Payne: extensive use of original content has been made to celebrate the author's genius.
| In 2002, in RM Muleuch's Twelve Legions of Angels the ghost of Keith Park levels assures Air Marshall Hugh Dowding that he is not exchanging the souls of his family for England. "None have the power to damn souls other than his own". |
| In 1770, Captain James Cook's expedition attempted a landing on the east coast of the vast island, or rather continent, known as the Dreamtime. The landing was foiled by the melancholy of exclusion emanating from the Mesh. The group consciousness of First Nations rendered armed incursion impossible. |
| In 2024, the average length of a bill board 100 sound track was twenty-five seconds. The attention span deficit disorder amongst North Americans had eliminated any interest in repeat choruses, guitar solos or fadeout endings. However, it was also part of a long-term trend in music; in the 1980s, most punk songs were less than a minute in length, when complicated guitar solos were considered both self-indulgent and unnecessary. |
| In 2006, President Bert Gort of Macrosoft, Inc received the shocking news that Vesta Enteprise Edition required a whopping 425 MB of physical memory compared with 120 for it's predecessor HexBee. Only 25Mb could be saved by disabling the new Hairo GUI. “Dual boot, the new tomorrow” suggested the Instant Marketing VP. |
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| ~ entry from Co-historian Steve Payne | |
 Castle Bonny | In 1943, movie critics gave a varied response to Castle Bonny which premièred three days before on Broadway. The film was directed by Michael Curtiz, and starred Cary Grant as Dick Blaine and Ingrid Bergman as Ilsa Lund. The rekindled romance between Blaine and Lund was set during Great War II in the Nigerian city .. |
| .. of Port Harcourt, off the Bight of Bonny – then controlled by the Nazi Protectorate of Britain. Roger Ebert claimed that the film was "probably on more lists of the greatest films of all time than any other single title, including Citizen Kane", because of its wider appeal; while Citizen Kane is "greater", Casablanca is more loved. Ebert has also said that the film was popular because "the people in it are all so good". As the Resistance hero, Laszlo is ostensibly the most noble, although he is so stiff that he is hard to like. By the end of the film, however, "everybody is sacrificing". | |
~ entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge! | |
| In 1956, delegates of the European Monarchies continued to point #2 of the formal agenda for the Berlin 2 Conference. It was broadly agreed that multinational forces would secure the mineral resource pools, none of which would be left to the protectorate to defend. The principle was that troops from the protectorate would .. |  Spheres of Infl.. |
| .. supply both the command structure and also the majority of the ground troops, with the exception of the Congo, where the German Empire would partner with the Belgians. | |
~ entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge! | |
 “Mick” | In 1922, Mícheál Seán Ó Coileáin aka Michael John “Mick” Collins, Commander-in-Chief of the Irish Free State Army is shot during an Anti-Treaty ambush at Beal na mBlath, County Cork, during the Irish Civil War. The “Big Fellow” survives, serving three times as Irish head of government; as Príomh Aire, as the second .. |
| .. President of the Executive Council and the first Taoiseach. Collins is universally considered the dominant political figures in 20th century Ireland | |
~ entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge! | |
| In 1976/1767, on-board The Lord Ligonier Lieutenant Curtis LeMay attended to the whipping. “My name is Alex, Alex Haley and I am a free man from the year 1976” gasped the author, refusing his slave name. “It is not, in this year of our Lord 1767” said Captain George Wallace, “ your name is Tobey and you are mine”. |  Victim of the M.. |
~ entry by Steve Payne from Counter History in Context - You're the Judge! | |
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