Category Archives: jackbooted thugs

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

A kid from the National Guard came by this afternoon.  They found Gil.  He was in the Convention Center and never had a chance to get out.

I’m sorry about my rant last night.  It wasn’t logical, it served no purpose to scream into the internet.

I’m mostly just numb.

 

From what we’ve heard, things are getting really strange out west of the city.  A bunch of New Yorkers have seized the bridges over the Hudson all the way up to Albany.  Governor Paterson is apparently saying that he won’t allow his state to serve as a base for government terror.  After 9/11 and the Halloween attacks, New Yorkers have some special moral high ground to preach about bombing civilians in cities.

I don’t know what it will do.  The US units in Connecticut hold pretty much the whole state except places where there aren’t enough people to matter.  Everywhere between here and there is essentially lawless.

Where does a government lawyer fit in here?

I find myself just going over our inventory of food and supplies over and over.  

I’ve gotta go, April’s awake again.  I just pray she doesn’t ask for Paw-Paw again…not sure I can deal.

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Sunday, September 27, 2009

Does anyone know anything about wha the hell happened?!

Paul and my dad are trying to get downtown right now. I begged them not to go, the whole fucking city looks like it’s on fire. I would have sat on Paul if Dad wasnt’ with him. Dad’s very level headed.

The men in uniforms on the street say it’s just a fire, that they fire department is on it, but no fire eversounded like that, damnit. KABOOM! They are fucking bombing Boston! 

If you know what’s going on, please please call me. If you have heard from Gil, please call. The cells seem to be up, Paul calls every fifteen minutes. We can’t reach Gil, though. 

The news is coming in really garbled. NPR says that they are trying to get a man on the scene, something about Southie being a mad house. Gil’s at the convention center in Southie and I am terrified that Paul is going down there and going to try to get past all those angry old mobsters and those terrible old bridges. 

If you know anything, please CALL!

Sunday, September 27, 2009

As predicted, things have gone from bad to worse. My folks arrived last night with most of their possessions… but not all. Apparently they got charged “tolls” for entering the city and when they didn’t have the cash, the men with the guns took jewelry instead. Mom lost her pearls, her wedding ring, her emerald earrings, and some costume stuff she had in a box that was clearly visible from the street. They also took my dad’s wedding ring.

Her engagment ring, her mother’s pearls, my grandmother’s locket, and several gold chains were all in a pouch in her purse. She kept those. 

They arrived to find me hauling my self out to the kitchen for another night with The Shotgun Brigade. (That’s what the three of us with guns have started calling ourselves. Gallows humor.) My dad — he used to be a Ranger a very long time ago — heard what I was doing, reached into the trunk of his car, and pulled out his hunting rifle and then insisted on joining me. 

There was a very long line outside of the kitchen warehouse when we got there and people screamed some awful things at me for “cutting the line.” When I waved my gun and tried to explain that I worked there, they just got angrier. 

There were several attempts to rob the place and one partially succeeded. A large group of angry men rushed us at about midnight. I was angry enough and tired enough that I swear I think I was about to fire. My dad stopped me. He’s a rock.

They got away with several boxes of food. Mostly cereal and some canned veggies. 

If they were starving, if they were hungry people trying to feed their families, I wouldn’t be so livid. But they are just stupidly frightened (or maybe frightened stupid) and scrabbling food to hoarde. They probably have plenty of food still at home, but it’s like those bank runs this time last year — once people start to lose faith, it all comes down like a house of cards. 

And the thing is, I really feel like they raided us just to be doing something. They feel everything going to hell and instead of just hunkering down, they feel like they need to DO something. So they steal food. Which causes this whole cascade of mistrust. 

Dad and I arrived home just an hour ago. We’re going to sack out now that the rest of the folks are up and about. Good thing, too. There weren’t enough beds for all of us to sleep at once. Gil’s off to the convention — Paul says he’s frothing at the mouth about everything, about the betrayal of the people. We’re frankly a little worried about his heart. Or a stroke. 

I’m going to bed.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

The house is quiet, the streets are desserted, there are no lights in the city. 

Over the summer, with clear skies and warm nights, the darkness didn’t seem so odd. I was raised in the country with no streetlights — I’m used to that absolute black. But fall blew in on a storm two days ago that knocked out all the electricity and had us all pulling out the wool sweaters. Between the heavy cloud cover and the fact that no one wants to put a light in the window, and the fact that dawn doesn’t come until 6:30….

I feel like it’s all coming apart at the seams.

I was awake to see the early morning dark because I got tapped to guard the kitchen warehouse last night. Apparently, I’m one of three people in the whold staff who can use a gun without blowing my foot off. With the General gone, things have gone from got to bad to HOLY FUCK pretty damned quick. We’ve got people from the outlying ‘burbs pouring into the cities on the rumour that it’s better here. We’ve got people from the city leaving for… I don’t know where. In the day time, it’s confusing but still normal. New-normal, but it was safe on the streets. The rumours were flying fast — the General’s daughter being held at Gitmo, troops on the Mass./R.I. border, spaceships at MIT (which really wasn’t the most ridiculous thing we’d heard, believe it or not) — and people we gathering at any public space to talk, natter, worry, debate, argue. 

Once the sun went down last night though, with no electricity, it got bad. There were roving gangs of looters and roving gangs of “neighborhood watch” types trying to defend their little chunck of city, and roving squads of military types who are trying to protect everyone but don’t have a command structure right now. 

I know all of this because I spent the night sitting at the warehouse with a loaded shotgun, some emergency flares, a bullhorn, and an extra-strong cup of the last coffee in the city. Happily, in Cabridge at least, guns are pretty damned rare among the general population and the Neighborhood Watch types and the looters were mostly unarmed. And there’s really nothing quite as frightening in the dark as the sound of a double-barreled shotgun being ratched. Most folks would give up. Things died out about midnight, happily.

We did let one group of armed types with uniforms take some food. Not a lot, but we weren’t sure that they weren’t actually the military types. I miss the General.

Today is going to be tough. Tonight is going to be tougher. If I wasn’t so wired and tired, I’d be panicking.

My folks called on the cell last night. They and their dogs are on their way up today. They are putting as much food in the car as my dad can manage. I asked them to bring dad’s hunting rifles, too. And I told them to come in the daylight only and on backroads only. It’s going to be a tight fit with them and Gil. Not that we’ve seen Gil in three days, what with the “convention” going into overdrive. 

Avery was a little white around the eyes this morning as she took over guard duties, talkinga bout her relatives in Kansas. She’s sort of the driving force that holds this little kitchen together and if she bugs out… 

I’m so tired.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Can I make a petty complaint?

I know, we’re better off without the thugs shooting people, without the government shutting down our internet and phone. I know electricity has been on reliably since the Provisional Government took office and that babies are getting formula regularly. I’m all for it. I love The United States of New England.

I hate the fact that I can’t get my books.

Commerce between the USNE and USA has been dodgy at best. Essentials are getting through, even if we have to route them through Canada. But no one except me seems to regard the latest Janet Evanovich as essential. And when they do come through, the prices are astronomical.

I’m usually one of those women who is at the bookstore on the day a book is released. My local store — Porter Sq. Books — is very good about accommodating my impatience. I have certain authors that I like to read ASAP — Evanovich, Reichs, Elizabeth Peters, Charlaine Harris, and Kim Harrison, among others. They all have had books out in the past six months. But between the violence and now the revolution, I don’t have Stephanie Plum’s 15th book, damnit, and it’s killing me.

My relatives in the Carolinas have tried shipping some of them to me packages seem to get waylaid. I’ve actually seen signs up in the Square asking to rent books — “If you have the latest Johanna Lindsay, I am willing to pay $10 to borrow it for one day.” That’s a good idea. Not that I’d read Johanna Lindsay — bodice rippers aren’t my thing, for one, and for another, her history is somewhat iffy — but if there’s anyone in the city with the newest Sookie Stackhouse, I’d be willing to trade fresh eggs for a few hours alone with it.

I also miss good chocolate. Sigh. The price of freedom.

Monday, August 3, 2009

I respect Gen. Carlson and what he’s done to restore order here in Boston.  It is much better to seeing his…I guess I’d call them militia…out guarding streets that seeing those damned black Humvees we had in town all  Spring.  That said, did we really need this de facto independence?  The legal landscape around here is a fucking mess.  What is going to happen to all the court cases that are ongoing in the federal district courts of Mass and Conn and RI, and Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine?  (answer, the judges are just going to ignore the situation for now and make their rulings)  What about cases in other districts with New England plaintiffs and defendants, or out-of-region parties with cases in New England districts?  (answer, everybody seems to be appealing for now…or just not showing up in court).

OK, I’m a lawyer, so the court cases are what I think of first.  Hell, on a personal level this is good for me.  Someone has to generate all the extra motions ans responses and opinions.  As a former Fed employee used to dealing with slippery-bastard companies spread across hell-and-gone, I have a lot of the case-law for this crap down pat.  Work is good, it keeps my family fed.

But there isn’t good precedent for sections of the country that have rejected central Federal control.  Yes, the South in the Civil War did honor the legal contracts and contract law from the US, but they also passed their own Constitution too.  Not to mention the whole declaring independence thing and the war.

Crap, scaring myself here.  Everything is working well here.  Everyone is happy.  Yes, food and gas are on ration cards.  Yes, we still have troops (the common mix of former vets and former Guardsmen) standing at street corners.

But it’s so much better now than it was in June…right?

Monday, July 6, 2009

One of those lessons for when you become a leader anywhere…just because you declare victory doesn’t mean that your enemies see it that way or are going away quickly.

The ruckus that cut off my last post here was in impromptu parade. A bunch of local folks were on the streets hooting, hollering, and waving New England flags — mostly on bikes. The SCULs were out in force, really sort of egging the rest on and helping too feed a carnival atmosphere. People set-up a big pot-luck banquet in Davis Square and an acoustic band provided music for dancing.

While Davis was partying, things weren’t going as well in Harvard Square.  The celebrations there came to a screeching halt when a convoy of Backwater folks (some say with regular Army and/or Guardsmen along as well) showed-up – maybe just passing through.  Things got pretty ugly before the mercs headed off to west along Mem. Drive.  The Harvard Lampoon building is now sporting an array of bullet-scars.

I think we’ll stay holed-up a little longer.