The Storm Of The Century - And More...
For those of you outside the D.C. area, last night witnessed one of the most spectacular lighting storms in my lifetime. The thunder and crash of the bolts was deafening, and there are many here still without power today. But the storm was much more than that, so much more….
It all began at this time last year. We were in the midst of a massive cicada hatching and the whole region was inundated with the little beasties. Roads became slick, trees were denuded, and some folks in a dead panic. A true example of nature’s dominance over man. I began to think, if I could control such a horde, I could, dare I say it, RULE THE WORLD! But How?!? There was no way to exert such control over near-mindless bugs; and even if one could, the next hatching would be 17 long years off – longer than it takes to drive through Falls Church! There had to be a way…And then it came to me! I needed to create MY OWN cicadas. By creating them myself, they would psychologically “imprint” themselves to follow me as a “parent” figure, such as many other animals do. They would do my bidding, obey my every whim, perhaps even pick me up at the airport! The possibilities were endless and seductive.
The next question was how to create my own horde. And again, in a flash, it came to me – I would take the parts of dead cicadas, put them together to form new beings and reanimate them! It was SO simple! Now, I can almost see you smirking and nodding in mockery at me, just like the professors at the academy. But I’ll show you – and them! For I possess the secrets of Life AND Death!
I had not been idle this past year. My researches were arcane and moved far beyond the pale limits of current scientific knowledge. I still had my “Visible Man” model from 4th grade, a catalog from Edmund’s Scientific, and a nearly complete set of Health & Wellness magazine. And the hours I spent poring over the free pamphlets in my doctor’s waiting room – I knew I was ready! I had left the text books and lectures of my professors far behind.
Cicada parts were needed, of course. Oh, it was gruesome business, going out in the dead of night, digging up their little graves and bringing the cadavers back to my lab. All had to be done in the strictest secrecy. The neighbors here are an ignorant and superstitious lot. There have already been several regrettable incidents in the past, based on their irrational response to the pursuit of science. The way they breed, you’d think they’d hardly miss one or two children, but their rapaciousness knows no bounds. I do take some small measure of blame in these matters. I was not always as cautious as scientific propriety demands. That time in the grocers when I walked by the milk cartons with the kids’ photos on them, I simply couldn’t stop giggling while screaming “If they only KNEW the TERRIBLE TRUTH!!!” But I still maintain that the resulting unpleasantness was unwarranted and nothing more than the ignorant fear mongering of uncouth rabble. There is no respect for honest research here.
At any rate, I had painstakingly acquired the parts necessary for my new creation, which I had decided to name Cicadastein. I had even acquired female organs for a second creature – a bride. Through mating, I could save myself the trouble of operations - my army of doom would breed itself into existence!
For days I labored over my creations, carefully constructing them. My head swooned from the deadly vapors of Elmer’s Glue, but nothing would stop me! I was too close! I had to go on! At last all was ready for the final phase – and this is where failure revealed itself. I needed power, and massive amounts of it. The electrical connections we had here just weren’t enough. You’d think that living in the wealthiest county in America would preclude such a problem. But North Springfield seems to be in some sort of utilities ghetto. We only got cable internet a year ago or two ago. And during that last hurricane, the power went off and took days to return. I’ve already written in the past about the near cholera epidemic we had to endure and the savagery that the neighborhood sank into during those dark days. Well, things have not improved. For each time I began my reanimation of the creature, every circuit in the neighborhood blew and I had to put up with the whining of peasants and pointless interruptions by ignorant gendarmes with their tiresome questions. No, this would not work – I needed more power!
Well. this week’s weather reports gave me the solution. Last night I had rigged metal framed kites on the roof of Blau Manor, connected by steel thread to my lab’s generator. I’d also attached several extra lighting rods to the chimney, with the same wired destination. I was ready. By midnight, the storm began in earnest. The wind howled in mournful tones, carrying the kites aloft. Rain battered the Manor in sheets, and all about us was a din of thunder that was deafening. I had already made the final preparations, and had extra Elmer’s on hand in case of emergency. Power coursed through the turbines, there was smoke everywhere, with a strong smell of ozone in the air, every hair on my body stood on end from the static electricity, as great arcs of it flew and cascaded amongst the machines I’d assembled – adding their whining and humming to the tumult above. At this point I had screamed out to Igor, er, I mean Linda, to get on the roof and help adjust the kites and rods to get the maximum number of lightning strikes at the height of the storm, but she cravenly refused, (The woman is impossible! How am I to take over the world with these constant interruptions and displays of pettiness? It’s always me, me, me! But what about Science?!?).
Despite this mulish Luddite attitude, I continued, confident that success was at hand. At that instant, a direct strike hit the Manor. There was a blinding explosion of sparks that threw me off my feet. I may have blacked out for a moment, and I noticed that my beard was smoking and my clothing had been singed when I shook myself awake. When I got up, I went over to Cicadastein. I saw no movement, but still placed my stethoscope against his chest – and heard it!!! It was a steady thumping noise! Its heart was beating - strongly! My joy knew no bounds! I think I nearly fainted, to be truthful. I ripped off the stethoscope and threw my head back – ready to proclaim my membership in the House of the Gods, when cruel Fate played her wicked hand. For upon removing the stethoscope, it became obvious that the thumping I’d heard had merely been Linda banging on the bedroom wall, yelling that it was now nearly one o’clock, and to stop making all that damn racket and get to bed.
A little piece of me died that day, (I think it was a piece of my beard). But serious scientific inquiry can never be stopped by such temporary setbacks. There is another storm predicted for Friday. I am ready. Additional research has led me to what went wrong. You may have suspected it too – it was the Elmer’s. Next time, there’ll be no mistakes – Epoxy.
It all began at this time last year. We were in the midst of a massive cicada hatching and the whole region was inundated with the little beasties. Roads became slick, trees were denuded, and some folks in a dead panic. A true example of nature’s dominance over man. I began to think, if I could control such a horde, I could, dare I say it, RULE THE WORLD! But How?!? There was no way to exert such control over near-mindless bugs; and even if one could, the next hatching would be 17 long years off – longer than it takes to drive through Falls Church! There had to be a way…And then it came to me! I needed to create MY OWN cicadas. By creating them myself, they would psychologically “imprint” themselves to follow me as a “parent” figure, such as many other animals do. They would do my bidding, obey my every whim, perhaps even pick me up at the airport! The possibilities were endless and seductive.
The next question was how to create my own horde. And again, in a flash, it came to me – I would take the parts of dead cicadas, put them together to form new beings and reanimate them! It was SO simple! Now, I can almost see you smirking and nodding in mockery at me, just like the professors at the academy. But I’ll show you – and them! For I possess the secrets of Life AND Death!
I had not been idle this past year. My researches were arcane and moved far beyond the pale limits of current scientific knowledge. I still had my “Visible Man” model from 4th grade, a catalog from Edmund’s Scientific, and a nearly complete set of Health & Wellness magazine. And the hours I spent poring over the free pamphlets in my doctor’s waiting room – I knew I was ready! I had left the text books and lectures of my professors far behind.
Cicada parts were needed, of course. Oh, it was gruesome business, going out in the dead of night, digging up their little graves and bringing the cadavers back to my lab. All had to be done in the strictest secrecy. The neighbors here are an ignorant and superstitious lot. There have already been several regrettable incidents in the past, based on their irrational response to the pursuit of science. The way they breed, you’d think they’d hardly miss one or two children, but their rapaciousness knows no bounds. I do take some small measure of blame in these matters. I was not always as cautious as scientific propriety demands. That time in the grocers when I walked by the milk cartons with the kids’ photos on them, I simply couldn’t stop giggling while screaming “If they only KNEW the TERRIBLE TRUTH!!!” But I still maintain that the resulting unpleasantness was unwarranted and nothing more than the ignorant fear mongering of uncouth rabble. There is no respect for honest research here.
At any rate, I had painstakingly acquired the parts necessary for my new creation, which I had decided to name Cicadastein. I had even acquired female organs for a second creature – a bride. Through mating, I could save myself the trouble of operations - my army of doom would breed itself into existence!
For days I labored over my creations, carefully constructing them. My head swooned from the deadly vapors of Elmer’s Glue, but nothing would stop me! I was too close! I had to go on! At last all was ready for the final phase – and this is where failure revealed itself. I needed power, and massive amounts of it. The electrical connections we had here just weren’t enough. You’d think that living in the wealthiest county in America would preclude such a problem. But North Springfield seems to be in some sort of utilities ghetto. We only got cable internet a year ago or two ago. And during that last hurricane, the power went off and took days to return. I’ve already written in the past about the near cholera epidemic we had to endure and the savagery that the neighborhood sank into during those dark days. Well, things have not improved. For each time I began my reanimation of the creature, every circuit in the neighborhood blew and I had to put up with the whining of peasants and pointless interruptions by ignorant gendarmes with their tiresome questions. No, this would not work – I needed more power!
Well. this week’s weather reports gave me the solution. Last night I had rigged metal framed kites on the roof of Blau Manor, connected by steel thread to my lab’s generator. I’d also attached several extra lighting rods to the chimney, with the same wired destination. I was ready. By midnight, the storm began in earnest. The wind howled in mournful tones, carrying the kites aloft. Rain battered the Manor in sheets, and all about us was a din of thunder that was deafening. I had already made the final preparations, and had extra Elmer’s on hand in case of emergency. Power coursed through the turbines, there was smoke everywhere, with a strong smell of ozone in the air, every hair on my body stood on end from the static electricity, as great arcs of it flew and cascaded amongst the machines I’d assembled – adding their whining and humming to the tumult above. At this point I had screamed out to Igor, er, I mean Linda, to get on the roof and help adjust the kites and rods to get the maximum number of lightning strikes at the height of the storm, but she cravenly refused, (The woman is impossible! How am I to take over the world with these constant interruptions and displays of pettiness? It’s always me, me, me! But what about Science?!?).
Despite this mulish Luddite attitude, I continued, confident that success was at hand. At that instant, a direct strike hit the Manor. There was a blinding explosion of sparks that threw me off my feet. I may have blacked out for a moment, and I noticed that my beard was smoking and my clothing had been singed when I shook myself awake. When I got up, I went over to Cicadastein. I saw no movement, but still placed my stethoscope against his chest – and heard it!!! It was a steady thumping noise! Its heart was beating - strongly! My joy knew no bounds! I think I nearly fainted, to be truthful. I ripped off the stethoscope and threw my head back – ready to proclaim my membership in the House of the Gods, when cruel Fate played her wicked hand. For upon removing the stethoscope, it became obvious that the thumping I’d heard had merely been Linda banging on the bedroom wall, yelling that it was now nearly one o’clock, and to stop making all that damn racket and get to bed.
A little piece of me died that day, (I think it was a piece of my beard). But serious scientific inquiry can never be stopped by such temporary setbacks. There is another storm predicted for Friday. I am ready. Additional research has led me to what went wrong. You may have suspected it too – it was the Elmer’s. Next time, there’ll be no mistakes – Epoxy.
posted by mendip at
7:09 PM
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