My Cousin Elmo says, “We have a government that has committed treason so many times that they are having to import millions of new voters because they lost their actual citizen’s vote.”
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“The ocean is a desert, with its life underground, and a perfect disguise above.” Dewy Bunnell, “Horse With No Name,” 1971
The rain continued to fall in an unrelenting torrent, a never-ending symphony of despair that seemed to wash away all hope. Rhyolite News reporter James Henderson huddled in his study, his heart racing as he clutched his shotgun and revolver like a lifeline against the encroaching darkness.
He had just sent an email to everyone on his contact list explaining the peril he found himself in before gulping down a mouthful of whiskey when the awful crashing sound of his front door splintering into his living room came.
“Come and get me, you rotten fish-smelling fiends!” he challenged.
Like rabid creatures, they had breached his home, faces obscured by the shadows of their hoods as they whispered secrets that were too sinister for mortal ears. Only Margaret Sinclair, his trusted copy editor, stood among them, face bare, her voice carrying a chilling warning.
“You have delved too deeply into matters beyond your ken, mortal,” she said. “You will not escape our grasp.”
Cray Montgomery, the Rhyolite City Council Chair, loomed behind her, his eyes ablaze with fanatic madness. He was nothing more than a vessel for the ancient and terrible entities that lurked in the shadows, waiting to consume anyone who dared to defy them.
As the hooded figures closed around him, James felt his resolve falter. He raised his weapons, but he knew deep down that they would be useless against the eldritch forces that had taken hold of his once-trusted colleagues.
“We are but vessels for the will of the ancient ones,” Montgomery intoned, his voice resonating with an unearthly finality. “You, dear James, are but a pawn in a cosmic game far beyond your comprehension.”
The adherents’ whispers rose to a frenzied crescendo, and James could make out the words of their prayers to Cthulhu.
“Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn,” they chanted, their voices carrying a malice that made James’s blood go cold.
James felt his courage waver as the fanatics advanced, their horry forms shifting and contorting in ways that defied comprehension. The darkness seemed to press in on him from all sides, suffocating him with a sense of hopelessness and dread.
He fired his revolver, hoping against hope that they would somehow make a difference, but it was all in vain. The devotees were impervious to mortal harm, their bodies undulating like serpents as they closed in on him.
Desperation clawed at James’s chest as he realized the futility of his efforts. He was a fleeting shadow in the grand tapestry of a shattered existence, and the eldritch beings that lurked beyond the veil of sanity would consume him like all those who had come before him.
As the hooded ones closed in around him, their whispered incantations threatening to tear his soul asunder, James knew his fate, bracing himself for the inevitable onslaught, his weapons raised in a final gesture of defiance against the unknowable forces that loomed over him like ancient gods of yore.
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Bitcoin prices gained 6.9 percent on Monday, March 4, to $66,355.43, while gold was up 1.4 percent at $2,113.28 per ounce, platinum rose 1.1 percent to $897.10 per ounce, palladium gained 0.5 percent to $960.50, and silver climbed 2.8 percent at $23.79 an ounce.
The Federal Reserve Board, on Monday, March 26, 2020, slashed reserve requirement ratios on net transaction accounts to zero percent, eradicating reserve requirements for all depository institutions. Initially hailed as a measure to stimulate lending and bolster economic activity, the action set the stage for a catastrophic banking collapse.
The tremors of this impending crisis came in Spring 2023 when smaller regional banks began to buckle under the weight of the Reserve’s policy shift. Fast forward to Spring 2024, and the ominous specter of another wave of banking collapses looms ominously on the horizon.
Then, in November 2023, the chief executives of banking Bank of America, Wells Fargo, and JP Morgan admitted to Congress their inability to transition from a zero percent reserve requirement to a 3 percent reserve balance.
Central to the impending calamity is the deposit-to-loan ratios, which render banks incapable of weathering any sustained run. Once the populace becomes aware of the precarious scenario, a rush to withdraw funds from banks seems inevitable.
Making the crisis worse is the Federal Reserve’s decision, coming Monday, March 11, to halt lending entirely and selectively extend loans. To mitigate the fallout, Congress passed the bail-in provision as part of the 2010 Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act, authorizing banks to seize assets, a measure like that witnessed in the aftermath of the 2007–2008 financial crisis.
The looming catastrophe threatens to devastate vast swathes of the populace, particularly those with significant assets tied up in 401(k) retirement accounts, amounting to a staggering $27 trillion. Individuals with cash reserves in banks are also poised to suffer substantial losses, with banks already imposing restrictions on withdrawals and transfers.
Through all of the turmoil, global markets appear paradoxically buoyant, with Hong Kong, Japan, S&P, and Dow soaring to all-time highs. However, this optimism belies the underlying rot within the financial system as entities like Blackrock and Vanguard manipulate stocks to sustain earnings while jettisoning underperforming assets.
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In winter’s grasp, we find our solace deep,
Beneath the covers, chaos softly creeps.
We wrap ourselves in regal guise, so fine
Yet dreams, mere fragments, fickle and supine.Winter’s chill, a jest the world does make,
As tears, like streams, in paper cups, we take.
We heed the photograph with cynical eye,
How human, to feel empty, void, and dry.Wraith-like clouds, they ponder our despair,
Dreams wild, reckless, yet we dare to care.
As dusk descends, a kind word’s sweet refrain,
In storms of emotion, salvage we, our gain. -
The audacity of these hypocritical lawyers knows no bounds. After successfully arguing that Elon Musk’s colossal pay package was illegal, they have the gall to turn around and demand $5.6 billion in Tesla stock as their legal fees.
These vultures, masquerading as advocates for Tesla shareholders, are shamelessly attempting to gorge themselves on the company they claimed to be defending. They have the nerve to justify their obscene demand by citing their supposed contingency work over five years while omitting they stood to gain nothing if they lost and their “prepared to eat our cooking” bravado, a display of self-righteousness.
Let’s not forget the magnitude of their greed. The requested award represents 11 percent of Tesla’s stock, dwarfing previous legal fee records while pointing to the supposed benefit Tesla received from their counsel and conveniently ignoring that they’re trying to bleed Musk dry.
And the hypocrisy doesn’t end there. Not content with an astronomical stock demand, the shysters have the nerve to claim that it won’t impact Tesla’s balance sheet and even dare to argue that it is tax deductible. And as if they weren’t already grasping for every penny within reach, they also seek an additional $1.1 million in expenses.
Let’s call a spade a spade: these lawyers are opportunistic leeches. They cunningly exploited Musk’s supposed misconduct to line their pockets, all while pretending to serve the interests of Tesla’s shareholders.
Judge Kathaleen St. Jude McCormick may have ruled in their favor, but her hypocrisy surrounding their actions is an unmistakable stench.
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Who remembers the sun’s golden-bright,
Not silvery, lost in an unnatural light?
When the sky was a deep, rich hue,
Not pale milky blue, a tainted view?Robust, gorgeous cirrus clouds danced high,
Crisply delineated, painting the sky.
But now weird streaks mar the scene,
Blocking the sun, an unwelcome screen.What happened to those days of old,
When is nature’s beauty freely told?
Now plagued with horrid inevitability,
The sky’s grace tainted — lost its ability.Sundogs appear, a bizarre sight,
Then spitty-grey covers blocking light.
Gone are the days of crisp and clear,
Replaced by a haze, we now fear. -
Residents of Caliente, a city in Lincoln County with just under 1,000 residents, are expressing frustration over soaring utility bills, prompting discussions about potentially dissolving the city government.
Situated approximately 150 miles north of Las Vegas via U.S. 93, Caliente is closer to Cedar City, Utah, than its more prominent neighbor. The issue at hand revolves around residents dealing with high electricity charges.
The discussion happened during a meeting on Thursday, January 18, where city representatives agreed to furnish a detailed list of pros and cons associated with disincorporating Caliente.
Lincoln County Commissioner Diane Path, representing the district encompassing Caliente, indicated that around 30 to 35 individuals attended the meeting, with only a handful expressing interest in disincorporation. Caliente’s city manager, Craig Roisum, plans to conduct an informative session to educate residents about their utility bills. Notably, the bills combine charges for water, sewer, and electricity, contributing to the heightened concerns among the community.
While covered by The Lincoln County Record, the original article remains behind a paywall on their website.
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