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Mutualist Blog: Free Market Anti-Capitalism

To dissolve, submerge, and cause to disappear the political or governmental system in the economic system by reducing, simplifying, decentralizing and suppressing, one after another, all the wheels of this great machine, which is called the Government or the State. --Proudhon, General Idea of the Revolution

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Location: Northwest Arkansas, United States

Thursday, August 27, 2009

C4SS Fourth Quarter Fundraiser

The Center for a Stateless Society has just begun its fourth quarter fundraiser, as you may have noticed from the Chipin widget in my sidebar. If you enjoy the commentary there, or have found my research papers informative, please consider contributing.


Blogger nova said...

I have been writing, and posting, an ongoing serial novel about life in America after the crash. It's called "American Apocalypse II."

You might like it. Below is a partial from one of the installments.


“Stay put.” I hustled over there. So this was Max. “Okay Max. I am going to stop the bleeding and then I am going to see if you are hurt anywhere else. Jesus, he was a mess. “Okay Carol, I am going to need your help. I hope to hell you left me with some big sterile bandages.”

I sensed movement behind me. Gardener had taken the Barrett. I left it next to him and he was using it as a crutch. He was hobbling at an angle to the fire. It looked like he was going to work his way around the side of what was left and then behind it. I yelled “Hey!” and started to get up. Carol put her hand on me knee and said quietly “Let him go.” I nodded, shrugged, and settled back down. I muttered “He better not lose my fucking Barrett.” To my surprise, the guy named Max opened his eyes and looked directly at me.

“You got a Barrett?”

I nodded my head.

“Cool.” Then he closed his eyes.

Max must have been closer to the explosion. He had been peppered with metal fragments, and he had a few abrasions. The jaw wasn’t broken. The skin had just been ripped open by a chunk of metal. Probably a cousin to the fragments that had peppered his upper body. “Where the hell was my Barrett?”was what I was wondering as I worked on him. Max’s eyes opened again.

“Take Carol and move into the bushes.”

We both stared at him. “Now! God damn it!”

I could hear it now. It was somewhere on the other side of us. “Very sneaky” I thought. I grabbed the bag and Carol by the arm, hissing “Move!” She looked at me, eyes blazing, “You touch me again, and I am going to cram your precious Barrett up your ass and break it off.”

“Okay. Fine.” I had seen enough movies to picture what was about to happen. I was gone.

Moving low and as fast as I could; I made it to the bushes in about 2 nanoseconds. I looked back. Max was up on all fours puking. Then with one arm grabbing her leg to steady him, he staggered to his feet. She had him stumbling towards where I was but it wasn’t fast enough. I thought of the “Lord of the Rings” The black dinosaur looking things with the killer screams that the Kings rode on was what it reminded me of as it swooped over us. “Well this is fucked” I remember thinking. It kept going, but not far enough, it turned about 700 yards out, and then hovered in place. It was as if it was alive, watching, tensing its muscles for the leap. That was a mistake. We didn’t have Stingers but Gardener had the Barrett.

I didn’t process what happened until after it had already happened. Gardener had found Night. She had been outside the building. Apparently she had decided to go looking for him. He ended up finding her. He was carrying her, firemen style, when he had heard the approaching helicopter. My guess is he dropped Night and climbed up the landscaping berm that anchored the side of the hill the motel was built on. That had to have hurt like a mother. Max picked him up first. It was almost like he was expecting him. Like this was all part of a plan they had worked out while they were lying in the dirt all messed up.

I followed the movement of Max and Carols heads and saw him. He was lit up by the flames which, not only were still burning, but setting off little explosions that sounded like fire belches. He swung the Barrett up like he was out shooting deer with Grandpa’s 30-30 which was, in theory, physically possible but highly improbable. That was a heavy freaking barrel to hold steady. He would have cut a heroic figure, except at the angle he was standing, the chunk of wood imbedded in his thigh made him look like he had a hard on. I started laughing. I choked it off when Max looked back at me. It was weird but his eyes caught the firelight and I swore they glowed red.

August 27, 2009 5:40 PM  

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