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Thomas W. Chittum Archive

Chicken Little Was Right

by Thomas W. Chittum
Sept 15, 2003

. . .I live in Maryland, in the Washington, D.C. Metro area. On Sunday, September 8th, the weather was great. The temperature was about 80 and there was no wind. I took a walk in the park about noon, and when I looked up, the sky looked like something from the Book of Revelations.
. . .The entire dome of the sky was crisscrossed with dozens of chemtrails, I would estimate there were at least fifty. About half were thin like normal contrails, and the rest were the spreading type. There was a pattern to the chemtrails. About three-fourths seemed to radiate out of a point on the horizon to the East, and then they spread out over the sky, and then they merged together again at a point on the horizon to the West. At both points on the horizon where the trails merged, they formed a huge cloud or hazy area. Other chemtrails crisscrossed the sky at random. All the chemtrails stretched from horizon to horizon unbroken, which I suppose means that there was no wind at their altitude.
. . .There were only a few normal clouds in the sky, maybe a dozen or so medium-sized ones. About half of the sky was covered with chemtrails, and this condition persisted for hours. The sky looked very much like the pictures in this link, which an anonymous area resident took of an another Chemtrail day earlier this year.
. . .There was no mention of this amazing ariel display on the evening news or weather reports, and likewise no coverage in the next day's newspapers. I know next to nothing about these chemtrails, but I'm going to do some digging, for sure. I'm also going to watch for similar outbreaks in the future, and report on them, and I advise others to do the same.
. . .I finally found an official Glorious Imperial Department of Defense website that mentioned depleted uranium. The site's name is "Army Medicine: Caring Beyond the Call of Duty." The stuff is harmless, case closed, and if you don't believe me just check out one of the referenced links proving the safety of depleted uranium, one of which is a report by the infamous Bland Corporation. And be sure to check out the blurb at the bottom of the link, which informs us that the Bland Corporation is: "a nonprofit institution that helps improve policy and decisionmaking through research and analysis."
. . .Fancy that! The Bland Corporation has been writing the script for all the bombing and looting of this planet for decades, and the simpletons still haven't figured out how to make any money on the deal.
. . .If there is one thing Sgt. Skull cannot abide it's mutinous dogs. And of all the mutinous dogs, the lowest scum scraped off the kennel floor are the sniveling little cowards who run off to sick call. Sgt. Skull can still remember his beloved role model back in 1964, at boot camp in Fort Lostinthewoods, Missouri (AKA Ft. Leonard Wood.) Every morning, our beloved first sergeant would stand in front of the company and bellow, "All right, all you sick, lame and lazy, blind, cripple and crazy, fall out for sick call." If any simpleton actually stepped forward, our first sergeant would explode into an obscenity-laced tirade about the offender's family tree, including graphic details about every hooker, barn-yard animal, retarded mutant and incestuous pervert therein. That was the way the Glorious Imperial Legions kept the troops healthy in my day, and let me tell you, I was in perfect health all during boot camp.
. . .Unfortunately, my old first sergeant must have retired, because a certain commie pinko website is reporting that "Thousands of US Troops are Being Evacuated From Iraq for Unexplained Medical Reasons." Included among these traitors, cowards, wimps and whiners are "thousands who became physically or mentally ill." I wouldn't bring up the subject of these disgusting goldbricks, except that I'm curious about what the Pentagon is going to do with them. The last I heard, the military no longer court-martials deserters and ships them off to the stockade for an attitude makeover like they did in my day. [Previous web link here in this article broken]. These days the military just gives deserters a bad-paper discharge and a bus ticket home. In other words, you can just quit the military by going AWOL for thirty days or more, and then turn yourself in for a quickie discharge. So what is the military doing with quitters in Iraq? They're obviously declaring these Refuseniks mentally ill, and shipping them back to the States to avoid any embarrassing court-martial for mutiny. This can go on only for so long. If the sitting ducks find out they can get a ticket out of the shooting gallery, they'll be deserting by the flock.
. . .On August 31st, I was watching "Meet the Press," and Tim Russert's guest was Senator Kerry of Massachusetts . Near the end of the program, the camera zoomed back and the viewer could see Russert glancing down at a notepad on his desk. I am suspicious that the notepad was a checklist of questions.
. . .The transcript of their conversation follows.

Russert: "You [and President Bush] were both members of Skull and Bones, a secret society at Yale. What does this tell us?"

Kerry (giggling and smiling): "Not much because it's a secret."

Russert: "Is there a secret handshake, or a secret code?"

Kerry (again, giggling and smiling): "I wish there were something secret I could manifest."

Russert: "322, secret number?"

Kerry (now with a sober attitude): "There are all kinds of secrets, but there is one thing that is not a secret. I disagree with this President's direction that he's taking the country. We can do a better job, and I intend to do it."

Russert: "And we'll be watching your progress on the campaign, John Kerry."

And that was the end of the Skull and Bones, dog yummy spin biscuit that the establishment tossed to us peasants for reasons unknown. The entire transcript can be found at this website, Zogby International.

I recently made a trip to Baghdad where I had the honor of assisting His Eminence, Proconsul Bremer. A transcript of our meeting and activities follows.

Me: "Sgt. Skull of GoonCorp reporting for duty, me Lord."

Bremer: "Ah, Sgt. Skull. You're just in time. I have to read a proclamation to the aborigines. I will drive my humvee to the central market square, and you will ride shotgun with the fifty-caliber machinegun."

Me: "Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! I always wanted to fire a Maw Duce. Let's roll."

Varoom! Off we go.

Me: "BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Me Lord, I just wasted a terrorist with an RPG. Darn, I didn't know many Iraqis had blonde hair and blue eyes."

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull, that was not an Iraqi. That was an embedded Swedish journalist representing the United Nations Provisions for Peasants Program. And that wasn't an RPG, it was a video camera. He was making a documentary on sustainable development for aborigines sponsored by the Soylent Green Foundation."

Me: "Uh ... sorry 'bout that, me Lord. Hey! Look at that dude running away. I bet he's going to snitch us out to all his puppydog strangling buddies. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Yee Haw! These towelheads explode just like chickens. Hey, there's some more. They're all running now. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Eat lead, you warped paranoid psychos."

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull, are you aware that the latest research in neurology has proven that the brain disorder that identifies psychopaths relates to a region that coordinates reaction to shocking stimulus? A psychopath doesn't react to shocking images and is able to kill without remorse because his brain is wired differently from the rest of us."

Me: "BAWK! A Psycho? Where, me Lord? ... OK, I see him now - the one trying to gallop away on that camel, right? BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Got him! No, missed. A little more lead. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... shot the varmint clean out of the saddle ... adios, Abdullah. Hmmm. I need a little something to steady my aim. Glug glug glug glug glug. Wow! Care for a snort of this Mescal, me Lord."

Bremer: "No thank you, Sgt. Skull. And I wasn't referring to that guy on the camel. I was ..."

Me: "BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... and the camel you rode in on, Abdullah. Gosh, that was just like shooting a gigantic chicken. Glug glug glug."

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull, I wasn't referring to that guy on the camel. I was ..."

Me: "Oh! You meant that two-headed Chinaman over there. No problem, me Lord. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... adios you freak."

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull, what on earth are you talking about? You just shot up some Iraqi in a stalled car with his flashers on."

Me: "I thought it must have been a two-headed Chinaman who left both of his turn signals on. Whatever. Glug glug glug. Are you sure you wouldn't care for a snort, me Lord?"

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull. A mob of shouting aborigines approaches. Disperse them with warning shots."


Bremer: "Sgt. Skull. I told you to fire warning shots, but you shot them all to pieces. They're all dead except for that one trying to ..."

Me: "BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Now they're all dead. I did fire warning shots, me Lord ... into their legs."

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull, henceforth you are not to shot anybody under any circumstances without a direct order."

Me: "Yes, me Lord. Glug glug glug. See that weird looking dog over there? He's barking in Morse code. I bet he's communicating with flying saucers. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM. And hey, there's a Mecca Cola stand right next to a melon stall. Jack freaking pot! BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Almost as good as brain jam, yes sir. Glub glub glub. And there's a flight of pigeons, too. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM. And there's the full moon. Aaarrroooooo yip yip yip aaarrroooooo. BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM ... Glub glub glub. I wonder if there are people on the moon. Glub glub glub. I bet all that green cheese stuff is just a cover story. I bet they got some oil or something up there, the sneaks."

Bremer: "Sgt. Skull, you will stop shooting that damn fifty-caliber machinegun altogether. Cease fire at once. In the future you will restrict your reflective moments to matters of military significance. Now read this proclamation."

Me: "But me Lord, all the local yokels are like dead. There's nobody to hear me."

Bremer: "Shut up and read the proclamation."

Me, unrolling the scroll: "Hear Ye! Hear Ye! His Eminence Lord Bremer - Conquering Lion of Babylon; High Mucky Muck of the Carpetbagger Provisional Authority; loyal bagman of Beloved Emperor Bonehead; Emissary of Her Majesty, Queen Whatsherface of England and some other stuff; and with the full credit of His Grace, Lord Rothschild - does hereby declare that henceforth, aborigines shall freely and safely gather in this public square every day at noon to submit grievances. There will be two lines - one line for grievances and another for food ration coupons. You may stand in one line or the other, but not both. Now shut up and go away. Yours truly, Proconsul Bremer."

Bremer: "Thank you very much, Sgt. Skull. I think we had better get out of here. There are dead bodies all over the place, and your tracer bullets have set everything within blocks on fire. On the other hand, the proclamation seems to have worked. Here comes a bunch of aborigines right now. "

Me: "BAWK! Me Lord Bremer, those aren't the housebroken variety. That's a skirmish line of Mujahideen with AK47s and RPGs. Put this mother in gear and burn rubber or we're as stuffed as a Florida ballot box. BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! BAWK! BAWK!"


. . ..An independent military analyst and intrepid social critic, Thomas W. Chittum is the author of the enduring right wing classic Civil War Two: The Coming Breakup of America and the satire on the New World Order and America's misadventures in the Middle East titled Sgt Skull's Field Manual for the Practical Modern Warrior. Both are available as ebooks from America First Books.


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