Good Morning Ted and Jody:
While I arranged my schedule (I set an alarm) to go out and shoot the sunrise this morning, I and the sun both arouse to dense fog, which neither of us penetrated. I went back to bed, I have no idea if the sun ever got up. However, we are supposed to have summer warm and dry weather for the next six or seven days. I just wonder how long they can maintain that pace since spring has not actually let go around here yet. It could be one hell of a fight between Spring and Summer as to who will prevail. I’m betting on the rainy season to return for a week or so.
The “analysts” are claiming the drop in the market yesterday was because investors, CEOs and others in the circle of financial wisdom think there is too much distraction in Washing for the “pestilence’s” agenda of the repeal of Obamacare, tax reform and infrastructure spending to pass Congress. Given the House version of repeal and replacement of Obamacare was just a bunch of words the pestilence didn’t read and wasn’t apparently briefed on, I am struggling with the notion that he has an agenda or just a list of buzz words that captures the hearts and souls of the right. (Which may be a misnomer, perhaps the “wrong” would be more appropriate?)
The pestilence’s address to the Coast Guard Academy Graduates yesterday was, taken in context, one that they all could have missed and been the better for it. I realize that we only have the snippets the Fake News chooses to share with us. Thank God, they did not share more.
The Special Counsel is an interesting “idea.” We have a man given a charge to investigate, he has 60 days to pick a staff and budget. Then he goes to work. When he is done, he hands his findings to the authority who appointed him–The Attorney General (Deputy, in this case) who then decides if the Justice Department will accept the recommendations or not. That has caused all the attention from the media and the uproar from the tweeter in chief (yes, he has apparently not lawyered up or has chosen not to take the advice any lawyer would give, to wit “stop tweeting”).
Now, if all of this fuss about the former Director of the FBI, memos and what the pestilence said or didn’t say about Flynn is there it is because the pestilence didn’t think to just issue a pardon to Flynn and be done with it. While he is at it, why not pardon himself?
I started out not having a clue what I could write about this morning. I guess, I knew too much and had to get rid of it. Sorry.
I trust this finds you happy, healthy, wise and wealthy too.
Warmest regards, Ed
027 Crime for Crime’s Sake
Fiction in 1089 words by T. Edward Westen 2017
“We are going to commit the perfect crime gentlemen,” said the man with a goatee and the scar over his left eye. He lifted an aluminum briefcase from the table in front of him and said, “Here is £1.350.000 in cash. There is a list of stocks and quantities to purchase with the papers. Ah, I also have papers, signed and notarized. You will deliver this briefcase and its contents to a Mr. Mortimore at the brokerage house in Cambridge and bring back the receipt they give you. Do you have any questions?”
“How is this a crime if we are paying for something with cash?” asked Wilbur Seams.
The man replied, “Have you never head of insider trading?”
“Nope, can’t say I have,” replied Wilbur.
“In the financial world, if one knows something that a firm is going to do that will affect the market price that firm’s stock and one tells someone, not in the firm and that outside person uses the information to make a profit from the equities, that is insider trading,” explained man with a goatee with a scar over his eye.
“So, what do we know?” asked Wilbur.
The man chuckled. “We know the price of those stocks every day for a hundred years.”
“How . . .” Wilbur Seams started to ask.
Walter Seams nudged him in the ribs. “We are time travelers, if you read the newspapers you would know all of this too.
The man nodded and said, “Be off on your appointed rounds and no fires this time boys.”
Wilber looked at the man with a goatee and scar over his eye and started to ask, “How did you . . .” But he and Walter disappeared mid-question.
A few minutes later the two of them reappeared and Walter handed the man the receipt.
The man read it over and nodded his head. “Yes, that will do it. Now, as soon as you two get rid of the bodies in storage, take the rest of the week off.”
“Err, where should we stash them? asked Walter Seams?
“Try a swamp a few thousand years ago,” replied the man with the goatee and scar over his eye “Why do I have to deal with all the details? Just do it.”
Wilbur nudged his brother, “You heard the man. We get the rest of the week off.” The Seams brothers vanished.
Materializing in a storage unit in Hoboken New Jersey,
Wilbur asked, “What day is it, anyway.”
“Saturday, you moron,” replied his brother. “Tomorrow is the first day of the week.”
Wilbur looked crestfallen. “That’s not much time off, is it?” He looked around at the stacks of cryogenic tanks and said, “Oh well, we should take them all to the same place. That would be faster.”
The whole storage unit vanished along with the two brothers and its contents.
The storage unit minus its floor materialized in the middle of a peat bog along the Northern coast of what would become Denmark in a few millennia. The brothers systematically opened and dumped the contents of the cryogenic tanks on the ground. When they were finished the storage unit, cryogenic tanks and the brothers vanished leaving a pile of un-resuscitated bodies on the ground which were quickly sinking into the bog.
Several days after the Seams Brothers emptied the cryogenic storage units, the storage unit manager noted that the rent on the unit had expired and the rent was overdue by six months. He marked the unit on the books for content sales on the weekend and went to it and padlocked it.
The bidding on the unit was brisk.
The cryogenic tanks looked like coffins or chests. Bidders were only allowed to look in the door of the unit and make their determinations of value for one brief look. Several bidders seemed to value the tanks highly. The winner of the auction had to cart them away by the end of the week. He removed them that day. Attached to each tank was a ‘packing list’-name and date of the person who had been in the unit. The winner found these ‘packing lists’ disturbing and took them to the police. The policeman receiving the ‘packing lists’ ran the names against official records and found birth and death certificates for each. He then entered the date and disposition of the bodies as unknown.
Special Agent Fleishman materialized
in the stairwell of police headquarters.
He held a sheaf of papers in his left hand and opened the door leading up to the detective squad. He took the stairs slowly. Opening the door to the detective squad the desk sergeant nodded to him and said, “The Captain is in his office.”
“Thank you,” said Special Agent Fleishman. He walked to the current cases board first and checked the number of the DNA samples again the papers he was carrying. His mouth tightened and he then went toe Captain Batan’s door. The door being open, he stuck his head in and said, “The DNA we entered in the data back produces matches for all five of your John Doe’s”
Captain Batan said, “You look like this is not good news.”
“From what the ATI technical section tells me the five could have been resuscitated and cured,” said Special Agent Fleishman. “What this means is we have at least 5 murders.”
“Wsssss,” Captain Batan let out a long breath. “OK, where do we start?
“Since the deaths occurred in your future, you can only be of material support,” replied Special Agent Fleishman.
“Since we were on the receiving end of the bodies, that makes it rather more of a case for us than you can imagine,” said, Captain Batan. “We have the bodies and will do everything we can to solve or help solve their murders.”
“Our lead to the murderer is the Seams brothers,” said Special Agent Fleishman.
“Are they suspects?” asked Captain Batan.
“I’d say from what Andy Kellog said and from what they have on their sheets, that is highly unlikely” replied Special Agent Fleishman. “however, I do think they are working for the murderer and it we play it right they can lead us to the murder.”
“What is out first step?” asked Captain Batan.
“I think we will play on their greed, replied Special Agent Fleishman. He looked around, shut the Captain’s door and said, “Let me go talk to Outreach Agent Simmons. I think he will help play on their greed. I’ll be back shortly.” Special Agent Fleishman vanished.