tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75065050333284768602024-02-18T20:12:53.822-08:00David N. Brown Fiction BlogDavid N. Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03296102565243287206noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506505033328476860.post-71095892789491624892020-01-11T16:12:00.001-08:002020-01-11T16:12:44.747-08:00DMCA Takedown orderThis post is documentation for a copyright order against Richard Morton Scoville, a known extortionist who illegally posted a copyrighted photo of myself with no further value as a commercial or intellectual property on the criminal website bayimg.com and continues to post it on his own blog followunclericky.com for the sole purpose of promoting false and malicious claims I am a sex offender and "school shooter" soley because of my self-disclosed diagnosis of Aperger's Syndrome and presenting my intellectual property rights as invalid. All images posted here are under copyright. Any reposting will be reported as copyright infringement.<br />
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I also include the following screen capture of a criminal and harassing post by Scoville, provided by victim Darrell Alexander Larose.</div>
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<br />David N. Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03296102565243287206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506505033328476860.post-77476752686959872802013-01-12T10:52:00.001-08:002013-03-11T19:29:15.325-07:00Cassandra by David N. Brown Mesa Arizona<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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"You're not officially cleared to see this yet," said the lieutenant.
"But off the record, it's a tradition to let every new guy in on what's
housed here. There have been leaks over the years. One of the better
ones actually inspired a motion picture franchise decades ago. But,
we're confident none have come from our staff."<br />
"I've already
heard some of the leaks," said the corporal. "It was a crazy story about
a flying saucer captured from the Nazis, which they built with either
help from aliens or from psychic communications with a super race in the
future."<br />
The lieutenant laughed. "That one's been kicking around
for almost a hundred years. Surrendering Nazis did turn over a few
specimens, but there wasn't anything like a vehicle or weapon among
them. And the Third Reich certainly didn't build them."<br />
He entered a code, and a door worthy of a bank fault opened.<br />
Inside
was a corridor, lined with strange objects. Some looked like pieces of
human bodies, some like circuitry, and most like strange combinations
thereof. The corporal looked curiously at a severed head whose eyes
followed them as they walked. He hastened at the sight of a hand whose
fingers wiggled at his approach. Thin circuitry was momentarily visible
in the pink tubing that protruded from the wrist.<br />
"We know of 213
of these things, and have physical remains of 57," said the lieutenant.
"Almost all appeared between 1928 and 2000. We don't know if that's
because that period was of special importance, or just because that's
when people with the means to stop them were looking for them. There's
no serious doubt that they come from the future- or, to put it more
accurately, futures.<br />
"Where we can identify a time and place of
arrival, witnesses consistently report meteors, ball lightning or
`UFOs'- presumably how the alien stories got started. Where we can
investigate an undisturbed scene, we find fires and tektites- sand fused
into glass by lightning- and sometimes a dish-shaped depression. Once,
we found the remains of something like a spherical cage, capable of
holding someone in a fetal position. The working components
self-destructed, probably as soon as the occupant exited. We don't think
it would have worked in any event; whatever technology is involved
seems to require a much larger apparatus that remains in the time of
origin, which is what the people actually trying to build a time machine
are talking about. We thus refer to our specimens as castaways.<br />
"As
far as we can tell, they all arrive naked and unarmed. It was thought
at one time that only living tissue, or an object encased in living
tissue, could be temporally displaced. That was disproved decades ago.
Our best guess at this point is that it's a matter of blending in. It
appears that the senders have poor control over the exact time and place
of arrival, and may have limited information about the past in any
event. Under the circumstances, being seen in nothing at all would raise
less suspicion than wearing clothes from the wrong time period. As for
technology, no weapon has ever been built that doesn't need spare parts
or ammo sooner or later, and there's no reason to think those of the
future are any different."<br />
They stopped before a form that was
mostly complete. "This is the oldest, most complete and most advanced
specimen in out possession, found in northeastern Bosnia. Like most of
the specimens, it's made from a combination of electronic and organic
components, and we're not sure how much is one or the other. The clothes
and that sword in the lower back are standard issue for an Ottoman
Janissary of the 1830s. Presumably it arrived then, but the first record
we have of it is from 1942.<br />
"According to what records we have,
it was found in the ruins of a Serb village that had been visited by the
Croatian Ustasha. They killed all the inhabitants, burned the buildings
and started desecrating the graveyard. That's <i>probably</i> where
they found this. When the Ustasha were never heard from again, a Nazi
platoon came to check on them. The details are very confused, but most
of the survivors agreed that it was already missing its head by then,
and it was certainly armed with that MG42. 28 Nazis were killed before
one of them thought to use a panzerfaust. That, of course, is where the
hole came from. The report says that the torso split from top to bottom,
but started to pull back together. Before that could happen, a Croat
acting as their guide pulled a sword from its waist and ran it through.
It stopped its self-repair and froze. He said it was a <i>vukudlak</i>,
and that his ancestors had killed another like it in the same manner. He
warned that, if the sword were ever removed, it would return to life.<br />
"The
body was sent to Germany, and given to us by surrendering officers of
the SS. Its hand was severed at some point in the battle, and sent to
Berlin with the other remains, but subsequently lost. The location of
the head remains unknown."<br />
The corporal's eyes widened. "If we had this, before 1950… How much technology has been developed from these machines?"<br />
The
lieutenant scowled. "Nothing of importance. The need for security
limits how often we can bring in qualified specialists to examine the
specimens, and when we do, it never does any good. The first of them is
supposed to have said, `We don't have the tools to make the tools.' What
we have learned since is that it would be more accurate to say that we
don't have the materials to make the tools to make the materials.' The
only times they have helped is when they recognized something they had
just worked out for themselves."<br />
He walked back to the severed
head. "The main reason we give these tours is to keep anyone from being
taken offguard by something like this. There are three specimens here
which are sufficiently functional to communicate with us. What is
remarkable is that they, along every single other castaway known to have
communicated intelligibly, all say something like this." He looked down
at the head. Its eyes rose to look at him. "Specimen 23, meet Cpl.
Johnson. Why don't you tell him what you told the rest of us about
Judgement Day."<br />
"A third of humanity will die, and two-thirds of
the ground will be uninhabitable for seven generations times seven," the
head spoke in a sibilant tone. "Fires will make the nights as bright as
day, and smoke will make the day as dark as night. Then a new city will
descend to the Earth, and all men will come to worship their king, or
be destroyed…"<br />
The lieutenant said, kindly but condescendingly: "And when will Judgement Day occur?"<br />
"September 11," said the head, "1988."<br />
<br />
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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David N. Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03296102565243287206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506505033328476860.post-49077233208359241802013-01-12T10:46:00.001-08:002013-01-12T10:46:29.965-08:00Meg And Greg by David N. Brown Mesa ArizonaPreviously published at<br />
<a href="http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8899597/1/Meg-And-Greg">http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8899597/1/Meg-And-Greg</a><br />
<br />
Meghan lived in the suburbs of a modest city in the desert. Her
friends called her Meg, and she lived with Greg. She rose from the couch
in the morning, as she had for the last five mornings, and confirmed
that the light switch still did not work. She emerged from the den into
the living room and went to the kitchen, where she discovered that the
faucet did not work either. That was new. She went upstairs, past the
photo of Greg, Greg at the office party, Greg at the wheel of his new
Audi Quatro, Greg shooting his .454 magnum, and Greg with his big
muscular arm thrown lazily around her neck, almost eclipsing her
almost-new Chevette behind them.<br />
Meg rapped on Greg's bedroom
door. "Greg," she called out, "the water's out." She opened it. Greg was
gone. She glanced at the dresser, and confirmed that the keys to the
Audi were there. She stepped back into the hall, and saw that the door
to the bathroom was closed. "Greg, I said, the water's out." She turned
the knob; the door was latched. That was when she heard the thumping.<br />
It
was strikingly regular, one thump, a pause, and another thump,
repeated, over and over. Meg pressed her ear to the door, and listened.
Now, she could hear an unmistakeable swishing between thumps, and a hint
of momentary scuffling: "<b>Thump</b>- swish- <i>scuff</i>- swish- <b>thump</b>..."
She thought of a pendulum, and at that very moment, she heard the
creaking, a sound just like some metal fixture, bending under
considerable weight. "Greg," she said flatly, closing her eyes and
pressing her forehead against the door.<br />
Meg's eyes opened at a change in the rhythm of the sounds: "<b>Thump</b>- swiishh- <i>thump</i>- swish- <b>thump</b>- swish- <i><b>rrriiiiippp</b></i>..."
She lurched back at the crash and jingle of the shower curtains being
torn down. The creaking grew louder, and then there was a tearing
screech exactly like the shower head being wrenched right out of the
wall and a crash exactly like a body falling into the tub. For a moment,
she stood completely still. Then she backed up to the bedroom.<br />
She
found the magnum and two boxes of ammunition, exactly where she knew
they would be. She scooped them all into her old overnight bag, shoved
out of sight in the closet. On a whim, she grabbed the key to the Audi.
She was gathering things in the den when she heard another crash. She
scurried back into the living room and looked up the stairs.<br />
The
bathroom door had been knocked open with single blow, forceful enough to
splinter the wood and lodge the knob in the plaster. At the top of the
stairs stood Greg, in his business suit, with the shower head hanging
from Meg's nylons around his neck. His face was almost black, and his
head lolled like a badly stuffed scarecrow's. Yet, his gaze seemed to
turn directly toward Meg, and with strides as stiff and even as a windup
tow, he began to descend the stairs. She drew the magnum as she backed
up to the door, and took aim, no doubt badly, at Greg's face as she
reached the bottom. She held her aim, as best she could with a gun whose
weight alone was enough to strain her wrist, while Greg turned
ponderously toward her. He stood there, seeming to stare, with his head
lifted just a little higher and straighter. Finally, Meg put the gun
back in the bag. "Okay," she said, "you can keep the Audi." She cast the
keys at his feet, and as she made her exit, she saw him bend over to
pick them up.<br />
Meg had to cover some distance to reach the carport
where the Chevette was parked, past two cul de sacs of identical
two-story, two-unit townhomes and through a little park. On the way, she
saw three wrecked cars and a dozen shuffling figures, one of which
definitely turned in her direction before she went around a corner and
out of sight. She used a shortcut that required vaulting over a low wall
and dropping another foot to the asphalt. The only car in sight besides
her little reddish-orange hatchback was a station wagon with a
crumpled, blood-stained hood and the driver's-side door torn halfway off
its hinges. No bodies were in sight.<br />
Meg dropped her keys trying
to unlock her car, at the unset of sudden shakes. Her hands steadied as
she put the key in the ignition, but began to tremble worse as she
turned the key again, and again, and again. The first time, nothing
happened. The second produced an abortive rattle. At the third try, the
engine gave an apologetic cough before falling silent. Meg's hands were
shaking hard enough to make the key rattle in the ignition as she turned
it yet again. The engine rumbled to life but then died with a
protracted wheezing. She looked out the window, at the station wagon,
The window frame of the door was bent. Her hand went still. She turned
the key, and kept her hand on the ignition as the engine started, began
to cough, and then worked back up to a steady rumble.<br />
Meg made a
tight U-turn in reverse, scraping the station wagon in the process and
bumping into a support beam. Then she accelerated, approaching top
(though still modest) speed as she peeled out of the parking lot and
around a corner onto the street. She swerved to avoid a shuffling
figure, only a child, but there was no taking chances with such a small
car. As the car rounded another corner, the child turned belatedly and
reached out for where the car had been. Its head lifted, as if staring,
but any observer who met its eyes would have seen clouded lenses in no
shape to see much of anything.<br />
The Chevette was closing on 80
miles per hour as it roared toward the gates of the townhome complex. It
braked and finally swerved for Greg, who stood in the middle. The
showerhead was gone, but the torn nylons were still around his neck. His
darkened face had lightened to a reddish purple, enough to make his
features readily discernible. As Meg gazed out, her hands began to
shake. It seemed to her that what she saw was indeed the Greg she knew.
It occurred to her that his expression, especially, was the same he had
worn on the night she made a discrete trip to the emergency room. As
Greg reached for the door handle, the window went down, and a perfectly
level gun barrel slid out. "Selfish ass," Meg said. She had no awareness
of firing the gun. She only felt the wrenching ache of recoil, and saw
Greg drop with a half-inch red spot on his forehead and a substantial
hole in the back of his scalp. As he struck the asphalt, the keys to the
Audi tumbled from his hand.<br />
After a moment's pause, Meg opened the door and scooped up the keys.<br />
<br />
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David N. Brown, David N. Brown Arizona,
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Zombie-Vegas-Believing-Las-Vegas/book-ZYXPOpqOCUejQua60v4Rpg/page1.html">http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Zombie-Vegas-Believing-Las-Vegas/book-ZYXPOpqOCUejQua60v4Rpg/page1.html</a>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://davidnbrownmesaaz.blogspot.com/">http://davidnbrownmesaaz.blogspot.com</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://davidnbrown.blogspot.com/">http://davidnbrown.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://freespeechstoredotcom.blogspot.com/2012_02_01_archive.html">http://freespeechstoredotcom.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://richardmscovillesfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/">http://richardmscovillesfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://freespeechstorefss.blogspot.com/">http://freespeechstorefss.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mesa, Arizona
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://richarmortonscovillesfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/">http://richarmortonscovillesfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/</a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
David N. Brown</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://fssthefreespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/">http://fssthefreespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://fssthefreespeechstore.blogspot.com/">http://fssthefreespeechstore.blogspot.com/</a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
David N. Brown</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://thefreespeechstorefsstm.blogspot.com/">http://thefreespeechstorefsstm.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://fssfreespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/">http://fssfreespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://therealfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/">http://therealfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://freespeechstorethefss.blogspot.com/">http://freespeechstorethefss.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://freespeechstorefsstm.blogspot.com/">http://freespeechstorefsstm.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://richardscovillesfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/">http://richardscovillesfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://thefreespeechstorefss.blogspot.com/">http://thefreespeechstorefss.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://thefssfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/">http://thefssfreespeechstore.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://freespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/">http://freespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://thefreespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/">http://thefreespeechstoretm.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona
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<a href="http://fssfreespeechstorefss.blogspot.com/">http://fssfreespeechstorefss.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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<a href="http://scienceblogs.com/insolence">http://scienceblogs.com/insolence</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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<a href="http://leftbrainrightbrain.co.uk/2012/03/29/cdc-estimates-1-in-88-children-in-united-states-has-been-identified-as-having-an-autism-spectrum-disorder/">http://leftbrainrightbrain.co.uk/2012/03/29/cdc-estimates-1-in-88-children-in-united-states-has-been-identified-as-having-an-autism-spectrum-disorder/</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/15547739064222625336">http://www.blogger.com/profile/15547739064222625336</a></div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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David N. Brown</div>
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Mesa, Arizona</div>
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