The corona virus saga - chapter 51

The star people had a very important announcement to make.  Stay tuned for further details as they happen.

The star people announced a coast to coast march.

It was a march of protest. A protest to set Jon Frum free.  To get him out of that secure location. And into the open.  So he too could breath in our breath.

Everyone realized this was very important.  We needed to get Jon Frum's breath into ours, and to get our breath into Jon Frum.


Star people quickly dropped everything, abandoned their families and loved ones, and made their way however possible to the closest coastline.  They got there, stared at the blue ocean water,  took off their shoes, walked into the water,  felt that cold salty water on their thighs, so cold, ouch, stings, abrades those cuts on your legs with corrosive salt.  They paused for a moment, while waiting a lifetime, collected their thoughts, sighed, turned inwards.  Then turned around, determined, and headed out on the march.  They were in such a big hurry they forgot to put their shoes on again.  No one noticed.

Star people belted out anthems and songs at top volume as they marched.

"Set him free. Set him free."

They spoke in unison.  Like their brains were all hard-wired together or something.  It was kind of spooky to watch, if you must know.  They kept marching.  And they kept shouting.

"Say his name. Say his name well."


The star people would also be smashing windows and looting stores the entire way.

As their leader said,
"None of that old stuff matters any more. We can make up our own reality. And in the new one, that stuff is useless. So we might as well smash it all up, have some fun. Let off some steam.

We all need to reduce our stress, so as to not taint the purity of the StarGate with it. We need to be pure of heart, pure of mind, pure of body. So looting it will be. "

The StarGate will provide.

We are transforming. Transforming as a people. Transforming as a nation.  Transforming into something else. We’re all in synch. In tune with each other. Like we all have the same rhythm playing in our heads.

You’d like to talk to someone about it. Since it's all so apparent.  So apparent what's happening.  But you don't. Because if you do, then the head aches started. And the shimmers. Nothing was worse than the shimmers. 

"I can’t take the shimmers. Make them stop. Make them stop."

No one wanted the shimmers. So everyone was marching.  Marching in unison. From coast to coast. Heading inwards. Which was going to get interesting at some point when they all ran into each other in the center.  At one singular point.  Deep in the Heartlands. At the exact center.

And maybe that was the whole point. To get everyone to one place.  To that exact center. 

Working to create a giant center of mass. A singularity if you will.

Get them all close. Let them breath each others breath. Sweat glistening and aerosolizing into the air.  Into the nostrils.  On it's way to a journey deep within the lungs.  Where it then entered the blood stream.  And it's work had barely even begun.

It was important work.  To help make it happen.  To help make the StarGate.

Sizzle -- Sizzle - Crackleeeeeeeeee

"Hello dear friend. Do not be alarmed by this intrusion into your space-time continuum.

I am a refugee from time and space. Adrift. Hoping to re-establish myself on your planet. Right here.

I won’t be a bother. I keep to my self. Except for when i don’t.

I’m just going to make myself at home. I hope you don’t mind.

I just need to re-charge. And have a few laughs at your expense. Blow off some cosmic steam.

You understand how it is. It’s all harmless fun. No one ever meant for it to turn into intergalactic war crimes, held against me in an intergalactic court of law, crimes against man, and against beast, and the Beast race specifically of the Beast planet. In the Beast star cluster, under the watchful eye of the old Lord Beast himself, the Original Old Beast. Stuffed and mounted under glass. Magnificent. Truly awe inspiring. One of kind.  Biggly. If there ever was such a thing.

So we’re just going to make our selves at home here. Now that the cracks in the space time continuum have appeared. Such beautiful cracks. Sommmmme say the best ever. Entities that know. Are you impressed yet.

Because we want your space time continuum to understand that there are a few issues that we will be needing to work out. Entity to human, i guess, that seems about right. And it’s a fair fight. Every one can use any and everything in their defense. Or just to whoop their opponent into meat pulp. Whatever works. That’s our motto. What-ever works. To get er done.

So get out there in the ring and fight like you mean it.  I mean, really. Do not take this particular moment to slack off, or try and make a point, or hold a time out, or a sit in, or a group hug.  None of that is going to work.  Except to get you killed.  It just isn’t going to happen.  You need to actually face this thing head one. Man to Entity.  Or what-ever was the politically correct term for that thing. Because we are civilized here. And want to say it correctly for the record."

Bill is really losing his temper at this point in the conversation.  To the point of dropping his Slim Jim onto the ground.  So good, what a waste.  He takes a deep breath, and speaks directly to the entity.

"Sir, i know you inter-stellar entities might have trouble understanding that..., what with the current administration, and their policies.  Or just general incompetence...  I mean.... Shit does happen.

But at one time we did have principals.  And as proud americans we held them high, for all to see. A beaconing of light for the world.  A thermonuclear pulse of proud, un-abased hype and hope.  Because we believed in our pitch more than anyone else.  That’s why it even worked in the first place.  We all believed, and in believing, we made it happen. We all get the award, we all get the prize, our collective worship of cargo and free stuff held us together like glue in a child’s old art project.  We were the stuff that held the macaroni and glitter onto the paper.  It was us. Our vision. Our pride.  Our purpose.  We stuck to that paper proudly, like american glue, proud americans stuck to a paper surface, proudly."

We were a proud people.

No one ever doubted that.  It seemed pretty obvious.

Maybe in hindsight we should have eased up on that pride thing a little bit. Just a smidgen.  To help save the world. To prevent global catastrophe.

Was it too much to ask? Too much to ask of a people?

To care enough about themselves to also save the world.

Find out this monday night.  Here on Survival Island, Global Meltdown Special Edition.

Everything will be revealed.  After a ton of drama, and many, many, so very many commercials for stuff you could really care less about, but now just gotta have.

Here's one now.

Sterno, the Hobo’s Friend.

As endorsed by the John Rockefeller 'Help the Helpless With a Helping Hand' Grand Initiative. 

Conceived and started during the great depression.  Continuing to this day.  Because, well, you know.

Hobos were everywhere. Traveling the land. And they could depend on Sterno. To warm their stew. Or keep away the night chill.

Sterno was the hobo's friend.

But then some town folks started burning hobos for fun. Light em up for sport.  And they used good old Sterno. They loved it. Sterno got a hobo to burn up real quick. Before they could run away to a lake or stream to put the fire out.

Sterno got the job done.

So hobos began to see their old friend Sterno with a different perspective.  The axis of the world, the axis of their world, it had twisted into a new dimension.

Why did this happen?  Why did perfectly fine and nice things suddenly turn bitter and sour.

Your old friend who knows you better than anyone stabs you in the back, drives the knife into the flesh hard, then literally burns you up using Sterno as the fuel while you scream in pain.

No my friend, Sterno was no longer the hobos friend.

They steered clear. Didn’t want no trouble.  Kept to the side roads and dark alleys.

And now Steno had come full circle. With a brand new ad campaign to boot.

Sterno, a tool of the modern protester. Didn’t matter what they were protesting about, didn’t matter at all. Sterno just got the job done. Burning down government buildings, or that deli on the corner you always thought gave you the evil eye.

Sterno wiped it all clean,

in a cleansing fire.

As depicted in that 30 rock episode in season 3, episode 14.

Like they somehow knew what was going to be coming down the pike, and were easing us in slowly to that new normal.

Helping get us ready. Giving us the lay of the land.  Giving us a helping hand.

Just like our old friend Sterno.

Ready to get the job done.  When a job needed doing.  

Sterno was there.  Ready to help out.

We now return to Survival Island.