The Carson Project; A Mini Novel-Chapter One

screen-shot-2016-12-10-at-12-04-43-pmIt was suppose to occur in 2022 but things have changed and plans had to be sped up. The country has gone along for years with the scheme not questioning the science and the educated people behind it. With looming over population, extreme pestilence, pollution, poverty and the heavy hand of an oppressive government- the tired, poor and huddled masses fill the streets of what was once a promising land. Not so many years ago, science told us our indiscriminate actions would bring about an ice age and all would perish. That fish would run out of water and trash would hide the horizons. Our lives and the way we live had to be altered for the good of the many and the saving of the planet. That changed when the expected frozen tundra never materialized, our abundance was never threatened. However to the elites pleasant surprise, the frog never jumped out of the pot. Expected loud cries of foul never came and life just quietly went on and those in charge were still left to their devices unscathed. They were free to turn the heat up and again, the frog just settled in with barely a stir.  Now we’re told that, global warming or as they call it now, climate change, man made chemicals and the application of such has permanently scarred the land and irreparable  damage has been done. This with corporate greed has combined to bring our once great nation to the brink of extinction but for the poor souls who wander the barren streets, they could care less about the reasons; their only care of the day is to find a meal.

Soup kitchen walls bulge with sheeple but have very little food to give out. Unemployment is the new norm and the streets are lined with the homeless in three piece suits. We’re told that gas, electric and food are in short supply but not for the rich. They still dine in roof top bistros and skirt across town with chauffeurs in large black cars. What work that is out there is from the corporate bullies who supply our meager existence with rationed and expensive food. ‘Be thankful, eat up’ is a common tag line on dimly lit billboards and we’re forced to pay with what little we have to buy this, the only edible product. You can’t buck a monopoly and an empty stomach causes even the strong to bend to one knee. Swift and harsh penalties come with the slaughter of any warm blooded animal used for sustenance or other black market foods. Routine home inspections, phone tip lines and rewards keep a tight reign on this extremely offensive and illegal activity.

Still, a few individuals speak up and find a sympathetic ear with political figures and the small groups of people courageous enough to associate with them. Sham town hall meetings are televised for the masses and touted as friendly forums to have their voices heard. Crowds in town gather around store front windows or in bars and watch the only available TVs. The media captures the event hoping to find a favorable slant. The people watch with interest but are careful not to voice their opinions to loudly, for fear of retribution. Facts and reasonable plans are met with nods of acknowledgment and wishful thinking for the way things used to be. But for the politicians it’s election time again and common sense gives way to the biggest donors and those who can buy them votes.

“Don’t you get three squares per day?” our not so camera shy politician rails.-“Our rations are small but filled with nutrition and cause so much less in green house emissions, this is for your own good!. This earth was almost destroyed with greed and plunder and you want to go back to those days? It was over indulgence that got us into this mess and now it is up to your elected leaders to make it right. I stood tall for you and voted to regulate the big monopoly and wrote the bill to subsidize their growth- without me, you’d have nothing and would die of starvation– That is if the record heat wave or rising oceans didn’t kill you first. A vote for me – is a vote for life.”

Of course records are kept of all the monopolies sorted details but only the gleaned and redacted pages are for public view. TV spots like this one are few since hardly anyone has a set or even electricity anymore but campaign promises from out of touch men barely even spur hope that We The People will get to the truth and be prosperous once again. However this election does have a bit more fervor than most because of the noticeable decline in quality of the mandated food supply. As cries of foul ring out with word of a few leaked communiques- even larger wails of scientific consensus and harsh ridicule are used to quiet the crowd. Doctored data is met with a smattering of boos and jeers all the while a silent wall of police and guns are building up un-noticed behind the restless throngs. Nervous politicians give a phony thumbs up and head for the exits as the enforcers move in and it seems as if an unavoidable clash will take place. Just then at the far end of the street, the police separate and allow a small fleet of vehicles to pass through. The mood is quickly changed and the hungry minions subside when the 3 o’clock food drop is for today, 2 hours early. So the cycle repeats itself and promises of change are met with stagnation. Nothing changes now that such an elite few have taken control- nothing gets any better and no amount of rhetoric can wake the sleeping giant who sleeps to avoid the pangs of hunger.

Across town an angry man’s TV is turned off in disgust over the political spectacle he’s just witnessed. Once a respected industry leader he played a vital role in saving his fellow man from immanent disaster but you would never guess it now. His apartment is cold and dimly lit so as not to arouse attention from his less fortunate neighbors. His walls are lined with plaques of distinction and awards of high achievement. Old magazines and news paper clippings reflect stories of a time when he was the only voice in town. His eyes catch the dim reflection in the mirror of a weathered and aged face. He raises his shot glass in a mock toast- “who’s listening to you now?” he says as if expecting an answer. Just then, the phone rings and he stares at it with bewilderment unsure of what to do. It was a parting gift from the company that forced him out but it hasn’t rung in years. No one he knows can even afford a phone and he quickly realizes who it must be. Caught between the fear of his neighbors hearing the ring or talking to whoever it is on the other end he stands frozen in disbelief. The relentless loud ring continues but he can’t hear it anymore over the alarming thoughts in his mind. The tiny L.E.D. is lit up as bright as any flood light and blinking with a name on the ID. GLOBAL FOOD CORP ext.241.

About The Bug Doctor

Jerry Schappert is a certified pest control operator and Associate Certified Entomologist with over two and a half decades of experience from birds to termites and everything in between. He started as a route technician and worked his way up to commercial/national accounts representative. Always learning in his craft he is familiar with rural pest services and big city control techniques. Jerry has owned and operated a successful pest control company since 1993 in Ocala,Florida. While his knowledge and practical application has benefitted his community Jerry wanted to impart his wisdom on a broader scale to help many more. Pestcemetery.com was born from that idea in 2007 and has been well received. It is the goal of this site to inform you with his keen insights and safely guide you through your pest control treatment needs.

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