by Amy Splitt and Pris Sears
From 16 Blocks Magazine, The May 2009 Issue
The editors present the following disturbing messages that were mysteriously received attached to the legs of pigeons. A cautionary tale on the excesses of sustainability.*
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September 1, 2020 I don’t know who will read this. I’m writing on this ancient typewriter, and attaching my messages to pigeons I’ve lured with crumbs of whole-wheat bread I save from my meals. I am perhaps the only person who dares speak out against the TaliBURG, a totalitarian regime bent on so-called “sustainability,” that has seized control of what was once a “special place” known as Blacksburg, Virginia. If you are reading this, you must send help! I suggest airlifting troops in to the area, as all roads leading in have been broken up and planted with sunflowers and soybean fields. I am approximately located at latitude and longitude 37.24°N 80.43°W. There is a barrier of rusting machinery ringing the entire area — anything with a combustion engine that couldn’t be converted to bio-diesel. Be careful, the inhabitants are heavily armed with home-made bows and arrows, slings, bolos, and lariats. ——— October 12, 2020 ——— |
November 2, 2020
The only place here to get a burger is a restaurant at the border of
Giles County. An evil vegetarian dynasty has taken over the heart of
downtown, and they will only serve tofu, tempeh and the appropriately
named “seitan.” The only meat on the burger restaurant’s menu comes
from cows that the patrons must kill themselves. The cows are killed
“humanely” by reading transcripts of Diane Rehm’s radio show to them
until they lose the will to live.
—————–
November 14, 2020
My enemies are ruthless. They sit in the highest echelons of academia
and local government. They will not rest until we are all riding
recumbent bicycles to nowhere, because who the hell wants to pay top
dollar for picked over organic produce and fair trade hemp attire? Must
go to the compulsory voting this weekend. I may be the only sane person
there, but I will do my duty!
——————
December 21, 2020
Ha! They thought they were rid of me, this time they exiled me halfway
to Roanoke, but I made my own snowshoes from the skin of a roadkill
deer and made it back. They’ve placed me in this farmhouse and given me
a kitten. Damn them!
—————-
March 17, 2021
Have not been able to blog much. Exhausted from my five-hours-a-week
forced labor in the community gardens. But I will never stop the fight!
—————
April 5, 2021
The town seems to be preparing for something. Maybe there is going to
be a liberation attempt! My blog has attracted the attention of the
authorities! In other news, I dropped my wristwatch into the composting
toilet. But that won’t stop the blog from going out!
—————-
May 2, 2021
Typing on the twice-recycled toilet paper that is all I am provided
from the town co-op is a challenge, but the blog can’t be stopped. I’m
too far out of town to connect my computer to the wireless service
provided from the methane-filled blimp that hovers over Henderson lawn.
They probably wouldn’t give me the password anyway; they fear the
truth! This damned typewriter has KLeys that are sticKLing, I will have
to take it to the town free repair shop. Communists! My KLingdom for a
WalMart!
——–
May 21, 2021
The hippies at the repair shop managed to fix the typewriter (and my
wristwatch). A dreadlocked girl with the noxious moniker “Sunrise” was
working there. I told her of my plight as a political prisoner of the
TaliBURG and she seemed sympathetic. She actually invited me to the big
summer street dance. I risk lynching (they all know who I am) but I
think I might go, if only to get more intelligence for the blog, of
course.
—————-
The editors regret to say that no more blog entries have been received. We can only assume the author was indeed silenced for his political beliefs. A chilling glimpse into life under the brutal regime of the TaliBURG.