Local Author Arrested in Public Indecency/Peyote Incident

Local "Author F. Allen Farnham after a Milford PD tune-up
Local “Author” F. Allen Farnham after a Milford PD tune-up

Following local reports of lewd behavior by a man in the downtown area of Milford, uniformed officers staked out the Milford Oval in plain clothes. As described, a caucasian male, approximately six feet in height, wearing only a kilt and unlaced boots, was spotted accosting local women by shouting, “Achtung, Fräuleine! Ich hab’ne Fünf-meter penis!”

Officers observed the man lift his kilt and flash a beige-painted garden hose cinched around his waist. The subject unfurled the false appendage and proceeded to perform what he loudly called, “The Naked Lasso Dance”.

The man attempted to ensnare young women with the flesh-colored appendage, claiming them as his “New sex wife” or “Heifer Baby Factory”. Not all accosted females were willing to press charges.

Officers intervened, approaching cautiously from several directions. As they neared the subject, they described a sinus-drenching odor that knowledge/training/experience told them was either Axe Body Spray or Mustard Gas.

The kilted man greeted the officers by saying, “I’m the well-hung highlander, bitches! Who the hell are you?” When officers verbally identified themselves and showed their badges, the subject yelled, “Jesus!” and fled. His flight abruptly ended when officers stepped on the trailing beige appendage, causing the man to pitch forward, bare-chested, onto the street.

The man issued a diverse array of epithets at the officers, claiming many of them to be closely related to, and also romantically involved with, their mothers’ livestock. One witness, a bouncer working the door of a popular nearby tavern, described what he saw:

“The guy was all road-rashed in front and you could see he’d busted one of his front teeth when he fell, so he had this whistle when he was talking s–t to the cops. He just went on and on like some kind of insult jukebox on free-play. Cops put the boots to him. Whole time, sounded like they were beating a squeaky toy. I’m telling you, man, that ass-whipping was legendary.”

When asked if he thought the beating was a use of excessive force, he replied,

“Aw, hell no. Dude was spry. Head like a bowling ball. That was a righteous Tasering if I ever saw one. And if they didn’t park the prowler on his legs, he would’ve just gotten up again.”

Once subdued, the man was lashed to the fender of Milford’s police cruiser and driven to Milford’s veterinary hospital. Treatment was delayed, however, when the subject refused to identify himself as anything other than “Highlander comma Well-Hung.” All other fields on the admission form, including the check boxes, were filled in, “So suck it.”

Blood toxicology and stomach pump revealed the subject had ingested approximately three and a half liters of tequila. But the heroic doses of peyote in his system prevented his brain from realizing that death was the only appropriate reaction to blood alcohol content above .50.

When the man woke from coma the following morning, he was mumbling incoherently and drooling. Initially, veterinarians believed the man had blotted out all of his knowledge going back to pre-school or earlier. After hours of analysis, they discovered the subject had not suffered irretrievable brain damage, but was saying in guttural croaks, “I’m the Well-Hungover Highlander. Get me aspirin.”

The man was finally identified by dental records and by friends who called the Milford Police Station after seeing the initial news report. Brookline resident, Matt “Mac” Husker, said of his friend, “Yeah, that seems like something Allen would do. What’s his bail this time?”

In a bizarre twist of events, The American Civil Liberties Union has taken special interest in Farnham’s defense. ACLU attorney Marcus Xander-Wilson has accepted the case, citing landmark First Amendment potential. When asked for comment, Mr. Wilson had this to say:

“Mr. Farnham is quite proud of his Creek/Seminole heritage. No matter that he is only one-thirty-second Native American, he was exercising his rights to religion and to free speech at the time Milford Police intervened. Peyote is a key ceremonial component in the Church of Native America, in the same way Christians use wine in Communion or in Commemoration of the Last Supper. And witnesses all agree that Farnham said, ‘Jesus,’ at least once during the event. Therefore, this is clearly a case of police infringement upon the rights and freedoms granted by our Constitution’s First Amendment. Anyone wishing to slap back the chilling hand of government, please contribute generously to Mr. Farnham’s Legal Defense Fund. Thank you.”

Mr. Wilson assured this reporter that the case would be long and obscenely expensive, reaching all the way to the Supreme Court, if necessary. Anyone wishing to contribute to the defense fund may do so here, here, and here.

Original source: The Milford Times and Gun Review: 

(Reprinted with permission.)

-C.O.P.

Here’s something you don’t see everyday…

What’s that? An express line through airport security? A Hindu eating beef? A Wall Street financier going to prison?

Nope.

For the first time ever, we’re putting Black Hawks From a Blue Sun up for free worldwide download on Amazon Kindle from December 13th through 17th.

BlackHawksBookCoverFrontLowRes

Wait, what? Why give away the second book in the series?

Well, for starters, we know a lot of you will be facing the holidays in a fit of full consciousness. Youngsters running about means those punchbowls of eggnog and wassail will be as innocent as a nun at confession. We at C.O.P. are sympathetic to this drought and, thus, we provide an escape to ease the pain of undimmed contact with all your “quasi-relations.”

Also, because we’re planning something big for Angry Ghosts in January. A big step into a larger world. We’ll keep you posted.

So take advantage of us while we’re feeling generous. Because the moment Farnham gets a royalty check he can actually live on, we just know he’ll become absolutely intolerable.

Happy Winter Holidays from everyone at Cadre One Publishing!

Happy Winter

A Moment in Retrospect

TwinTowers Sun shot

I don’t get caught up in real estate. It isn’t that at all. It’s the awareness of an injury, and the long, long process of recovery.

Every day that property in Manhattan remained vacant was a splinter in my mind. Sure, buildings like these aren’t just thrown up. Takes time to build them right. But that void seemed to me like a lasting satisfaction on the part of our attackers. As long as that space was empty, their mission was accomplished. I couldn’t stand that.

To say I’m not from New York is like saying I’m not from Mars. Doesn’t matter. Much as we love to bitch about our neighbors and find petty differences to magnify, there is still a sense of unity. How something truly huge can wipe clear those perceived differences, and we cannot help but see we are all in this together.

I don’t care what it’s called. The Freedom Tower matters. It’s a return to normalcy. It’s closure after a time of grief. And it’s a sign to our enemies that their violent efforts will always be in vain.

Am I putting too much importance on a structure as a symbol? Maybe. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of the men and women who built it. I’m proud that, at last, the New York skyline is restored. No, not restored. Healed.

freedom tower big

Please remember the men and women of the emergency services who gave their all, and please support the ones who suffer chronic illness as a result of that service. They need you.

-FAF

Don’t you just love free stuff? (UPDATE)

Short and sweet, folks.

We’re putting Angry Ghosts back out there for free download!

AG Front Cover BEST

Maybe it was afterglow from Curiosity’s anniversary party. Maybe it was all the chemical refreshments. But whatever it was, we’re in a giving mood. Starting tonight Thursday, August 15th, at midnight (EST), head on over to Amazon for a free Kindle download of Angry Ghosts.

As always, we love your feedback. Good, Bad, and Pride Obliterating. Let us know what you think.

-C.O.P.

Update: This post went out a day early and we got the date wrong. Tonight is the night, at midnight. Sorry for the tease!

 

Celebrating Curiosity’s First Year on Mars

Curiosity Selfie close

It’s easy to get lost in the day to day. Too much to do, more piles up tomorrow… That’s why we all did a double take when we heard that yesterday marked the first anniversary of Curiosity’s landing on the Red Planet. A full year? Already?

Science blogs lit up with the news, giving us a solid reason to loaf at the office all day. We hadn’t really tuned in since the landing, so we had to go back and see what we’d missed, right? Seems that rover’s been busy.

We remember the “Seven Minutes of Terror“, how if any one of a hundred (or more) processes didn’t happen just right, the project was cooked. Watched live as the men and women who engineered it all had to watch and wait to see if their baby landed on his feet. Gotta say, when the first confirmation photo came back showing Curiosity on the surface, well… That was a proud and happy moment. Not to mention one of relief.

Curiosity 1st image

In the last 365 Sols, the rover has repeatedly found evidence that liquid water once flowed on Mars. Might have been a long time ago, but none the less, liquid water was there. More than that, after drilling and shooting through the surface regolith, they found that the rusty color is only skin deep, that the iron below the surface was reduced to another form that may have been caused by microbial action. If you are even a little bit aware of the universe, you have an idea what it means if life (even if it’s a billion years dead) is found off-world: philosophical, moral, spiritual and political ramifications the like we’ve never even heard of. So much of our ideology is attached to the core notion that we are a unique creation in the Universe.

What if we aren’t?

Drill, baby, DRILL!
Drill, baby, DRILL!

Of course, you have your usual detractors. The ones who decry the expenditure of $2.2B for an Atomic-Powered SUV to root up the system’s biggest sandbox.

“Oh, wow, it went like a whole kilometer in a YEAR. And it drilled some holes. That’s like the biggest waste of money ever.”

As much as we’d like to argue that original research in advanced sciences is what brought us the internet, laptops, cell-phones, and anti-lock brakes, we know it’s simply a waste of time. So we’ll save our breath and let others speak for us:

Tyson's middle finger

Let’s get away from Dollars for a moment. Name one thing that is all-American AND easy to love.

US Congress? Collateralized Debt Obligations? Drone attacks? Genetically modified crops? Denials of coverage due to Pre-existing medical conditions?

Too often the thought of something “American” inspires a kind of awkward love, like loving a shoplifting son or a dog that always humps your date’s leg. But our space program has been a gleaming gem for as long as it has existed. Inspiring in the devotion, courage, and skill required to accomplish the missions taken.

Imagine climbing into a rocket over thirty stories high, where 98% of it (by weight) is ultra-high explosive. Imagine using the rough equivalent of a scientific calculator to guide you to the moon and back. Imagine trying to anticipate every single contingency in a journey to a place that no one has ever visited. It’s truly awesome.

And not the least worth mentioning, we find beauty out there. It may be alien to us, it may seem hostile, sterile, or forbidding. But there is an elemental beauty. There’s also possibility. If we can land rovers, we can land other things as well. And if there are the building blocks of life…?

curvyrock

We at C.O.P. have a deep and abiding interest in the peaceful discovery of our universe. We admire the dedication required to accomplish these things. And we’re grateful for something American that is easy to love.

Congratulations, Curiosity. And to the men and women who do these things “…not because they are easy, but because they are hard…

-C.O.P.

Angry Ghosts, an eBook at last

Four years have passed since our first release. Seems like forever ago. And in that time, there’s one question we’ve heard repeatedly:

“For frigg’s sake, why don’t you guys put Angry Ghosts out on eBook?”

Our answer was always,

“We did! We licensed it to Eirelander Publishing under the title, Wraiths of Earth.”

Eirelander is a great little press. Really is. There’s a lot of industry experience there, and we at C.O.P. were glad to have a knowledgeable partner for our first release. But Wraiths didn’t thrive there, which is too bad, because Lee Morris and Pierre Roustan did a lot of work cutting, shaping, and cleaning what was admittedly a very rough manuscript.

In life you try different things. Some work, some don’t. So to Lee and Pierre: thank you both. Your efforts made Wraiths a significant improvement over our first printing of Angry Ghosts.

Now that electronic rights are back in-house, we’re plugging that gaping hole in our line up. After giving it one final round of polishing, we are overjoyed to announce that Angry Ghosts is finally available as an eBook. To celebrate, we’re giving it away for free over the next five days. For anyone who read the first printing, come back and check out the revised cut. It’s worth it.

What’s that you say? That’s not the only hole in the line up? Funny you should mention it…

We’ve got Farnham lashed to his MacBook again. Work begins on the final installment of the series, working title, PLASMA RAIN.

plasma rain

Oh and should we mention? There’s another book beaning around in that gin-addled brain of his: something dark and awful about the desperation of winter starvation. No idea where he came up with that. Or…

Wait, didn’t we leave him locked in the office for Christmas break last year?

We did?

Eh, he’ll be all right.

-C.O.P.

Cynicism

mlk and jesse

I heard on the radio that Martin Luther King, Jr. was 39 years old when he was killed. Always seemed to me that he was older. Maybe because it’s taken me so long to get my own life sorted out that I couldn’t imagine having accomplished so much before the age of 50.

That one man (with a lot of support) could instigate, build, and sustain such a movement by the age I am now… Got me thinking pretty hard about what I had done with my life.

When I look back, I see someone reluctant to grow up, someone mired in a gloom of things gone bad, someone determined to self-sabotage at each new opportunity. Seems like a kind of madness to me now. So why?

Because I was a cynical bastard. By my early teens, I knew the world was shit, and every anonymous face I saw had made it that way. Misanthropy gave me serrated edges, which I honed every solitary night.

In my twenties, I wasn’t so much falling asleep as passing out. Booze was the valve, and my journals the sink for ugly thoughts, righteous indignation, and pestilent platitudes. (I’ll make them public someday. They’re a hoot.)

But then, I suddenly felt a burning intolerance for the way I was living. Maybe it was the inventory I took of my life as I sat alone on my twenty-eighth birthday. Maybe it was the motorcycle accident a few weeks earlier that proved I wanted to live, after all. Pretty sure it wasn’t the bourbon.

Do I backslide? Oh, sure. Every time I see a documentary about our farming practices, I switch off and yearn for painful tumors to start growing in the head of Monsanto’s CEO. Every time I read a story about the real damages done by Wall Street, I become sympathetic to the idea of crucifixion. Cynicism is second nature to me, and it’s like an old friend, sometimes. I can always count on it to be there, familiar and comfortable as old socks. But it’s so negative and self-defeating, nothing good will ever come from it.

At heart, cynicism is cowardice. It’s capitulation. Giving up. Letting the wrong people win without a fight. And the more cynical we become, the more dead and useless we become. If all we’re going to do is scowl and curse at those who are polluting our world with noise and smoke, we might as well get on the melting ice floes and make some room.

This is what happens when greed wins.
This is what happens when greed wins.

And this brings me, at last, to my point. There will always be those who will try to take what they can get away with. So long as greed exists, there will be those soulless voids who serve it at the expense of all others. There will be those who try to subjugate, intimidate, rape, kill, and torture. These people absolutely depend upon a population disinterested or distracted enough to let it happen. They rely on us to stay cynical, believing this world does not belong to us, and that it’s just how things are.

Bullshit.

It’s hard to imagine what Dr. King faced as a leader of the African-American Civil Rights Movement in the 60s. It’s even harder to imagine someone with greater cause to be cynical. There must’ve been many nights when the doubts were crushing, that real change would not last, if it came at all. The risk to self, family, and friends for an uncertain goal…most would have left it, I think.

MLK Quote

Risking all to erase division, to unite as one people…that is greatness. It’s inspiring when you see it. Not the false, jingoistic versions Hollywood loves to sling out, but the total commitment to an ideal that uplifts all people, even if it means not seeing it realized in your lifetime.

I’m shamed when I recall my years of sullen apathy. I’ve wasted time, which is the greatest sin any of us can commit. But I’m not dead yet. And there’s plenty to do in the meantime.

What does MLK Day mean to you?

-Allen Farnham