The Twenty-First HoS List Challenge

[Walpurgisnacht]

I've now officially been doing these challenges for a full year! Feels shorter than that.

The rules are simple; I give a prompt, and you have until 4:00pm on the 28th (or whenever I remember to post the announcement on that day) to post a list related to the prompt. As for what constitutes a list? If you'd personally post it in Lists of Heads of Government and Heads of State rather than another thread, I think that's a good enough criterion. Writeups are preferred, please don't post a blank list, and I'd also appreciate it if you titled your list for polling purposes. Once the deadline hits, we will open up a multiple choice poll, and whoever receives the most votes after a week gets the entirely immaterial prize.

You all know what the month of October means. That's right, the theme is Horror. Lists that creep and lists that shriek. Lists that go bump in the night. Strange lists we must keep and fill, lists that eat and plead and kill, lists on legs, lists on fire, lists infested with desire. Give it your best shot at a list to scare the reader!

 

[Talwar]

Work in progress.

This should probably get pinned?

 

[Walpurgisnacht]

Dom will be pinning the thread as soon as he can, he's just busy ATM.

 

[Time Enough]

The Last Will and Testament of Éamon Lynch

Prime Minister of the Free State of Ireland:
1922-1923: Michael Collins (Sinn Féin-Pro Treaty)
1922 (Majority) def. Cathal Brugha (Sinn Fèin-Anti Treaty), Thomas Johnson (Labour), Denis Gorey (Farmers)
1923-: Michael Collins (Independent leading Cumann na nGaedheal Government)
1923-1928: W. T. Crosgrave (Cumann na nGaedheal)
1923 (Majority) def. Cathal Brugha (Poblachtánach), Thomas Johnson (Labour), Denis Gorey (Farmers), Michael O'Flanagan (Sinn Fèin)
1928-1930: Thomas Johnson (Labour)
1928 (Coalition with Poblachtánach) def. Cathal Brugha (Poblachtánach), W. T. Crosgrave (Cumann na nGaedheal), Denis Gorey (Farmers)
1930-1935: Richard Mulcahy (Cumann na nGaedheal)
1930 (Coalition with Farmers) def. Cathal Brugha (Poblachtánach), Thomas Johnson (Labour), Michael Heffernan (Farmers), Maud Gonne (CommonWealth)
1935-1937: Cathal Brugha (Poblachtánach)
1935 (Coalition with Labour) def. Richard Mulcahy (Cumann na nGaedheal), Patrick Hogan (Labour), Michael Heffernan (Farmers)

Taoiseach of the Republic of Ireland:
1937-1940: Cathal Brugha (Poblachtánach)
1939 (Majority) def. Richard Mulcahy (Cumann na nGaedheal), Patrick Hogan (Labour), Michael Heffernan (Farmers), Peadar O'Donnell (Saor Eíre)
1940-1947: Seán Lemass (Poblachtánach)
1943 (Majority) def. James Dillon (National Centre Party), Patrick Hogan (Labour), Owen Sheehy-Skeffington (Saor Eíre), Michael Donnellan (Clann na Talmhan)
1947-1948: Michael Collins (Independent leading ‘War Government’)


Royal Commissioner of the Protectorate of Ireland:
1948-1951: Oswald Mosley (Unionist)†
1949 (‘Kings Coalition’) def. Thomas Henderson (Unionist Labour) Harford Montgomery Hyde (Liberal)
1951-1953: William Edward David Allen (Unionist)
1953-1963: Jorian Jenks (Union)†
1963-1970: Reginald Hugh Dorman-Smith (Union)
1970-1985: Gerald Wallop, 9th Earl of Portsmouth (Union)†

Chief Speaker of the Commune of Hibernia:
1985-: Richard Hunt (Anglican Order for the Preservation of the Soil)


In the dusty remains of my clochán I write and while away my remaining days being one of the few to remember the times before. Maybe by the light of my lamp I can conjure an idea of what occurred.

I was born when Crosgrave was declared Prime Minister, to the horror of my father, Pádraic, a keen Republican and follower of Connolly and Brugha who would name me Éamon in reference to the one of the martyrs of the Easter Rising. My early memories are populated with my father taking me to various parades and shaking hands with often rather shattered looking men.

I was at school by the time Crosgrave had been replaced by Johnson, a well meaning man who was swept aside by a tide of bad luck as America’s economy went sour and took Europe with it. Mulcahy wasn’t much better, a seemingly stern and harsh man who my father despised, he was the boogeyman of the Republican movement even more than Collins ever could have been.

Collins there was respect for, Mulcahy there was seething resentment.

As a teenage I would join the other boys in harassing the blue shirted volunteers who campaigned for Mulcahy.

And finally, Cathal Brugha was Prime Minister. An austere elderly man by the time he became leader, he was still a passionate speaker and believer in the possibility of a United Ireland. This appealed to all of us believers in Republicanism.

Brugha would get the chance to at least achieve the basic aims of Republicanism, when that bastard King Edward came to the throne. Britain had taken the loss of Ireland and it’s slow turmoil poorly, I remember my father being somewhat tepid when the news came that Johnston had been ousted and a new entity called the ‘Kings Coalition’ had been set up in it’s place.

Brugha was quick, claiming that Edward, a man known for his numerous affairs and habit of rubbing his nose in stuff he should off, wasn’t a man who would fit the aspirations of a majority Catholic Nation. Edward VIII proofed an excellent excuse to create the Irish Republic. The declaration of the Republic was a proud moment of our nation, I remember dancing with my street to the hazy glow of dawn.

With Britain slowly collapsing into infighting and subjecting there Empire to worse torments, we had a time of glorious peace. I gained a job during a time where Lemass’s reforms, to create an Industrialised Modern Ireland were occurring. I gained a job in a bicycle factory where I met my eventual wife Margaret and we would eventually have three children’s, Arthur, Padric and Maud, there souls I pray too every night.

But things would eventually go wrong, in America a streak of isolation took over. So guy called Taft decided to switch off the taps and we were left out of loop for a bit, but Britain was hit worse. Having allied with Germany, Italy and Portugal against the Leftist entities of Spain, France and the Soviet Union but eyes from folks within the Empire like Churchill and Mosley gazed longingly at Ireland once more.

I had been working a late shift and was coming back that night when I heard the distant drones of bombers followed by the doom of there payloads over the factories of Dublin. The hideous white glare of Phosphorus overhung the city that night, a firestorm ripped through the factories, incinerating all that lay within there path.

I was lucky, I cycled as fast as my legs could propel me, the crackle of fire bursting within my ears. Margaret hadn’t been as luck, she had managed to evacuate the children when a bomb ripped through our house.

As I looked out on the holocaust that engulfed my former city, I thought I saw the spirits of those who had been slowly cruelly cut down drifting on the winds. I remember hearing Arthur Harris seeing a newsreel where he coldly described Dublin as the peak of bomber operational efficiency, a man who had narrowed down the weight of human suffering to a bunch of statistics

I joined the Territorial Army the next day.

We gave a good fight, Michael Collins returned from whatever Governmental Department he had been directing to become the leader of all of Ireland.

We tried our best and indeed, at one point we had driven the British forces back to the sea, but they came back harsher and crueler than ever.

The gassing of Galway was the last straw, we knew the choice was between surrendering or enduring another series of horrors. I was bitter but I had three children too look after and so I decided that being under the thumb of tyranny was a price that had to be paid to be with them.

Initially things were just bad, I was forced to work in a prisoner of war camp for a couple of years, making parts for bikes for British troops to use. The food was terrible and the Commandants harsh but it was certainly a better fate than those deemed undesirable, my father was one of them. He disappeared, never to be seen again.

I hope whatever his fate, that it was quick.

When I was released in 1950, my hopes of seeing my children would be shattered forever. They along with nearly one third of the children of Ireland had been taken over to England to be ‘Anglicised’.

I decided the best thing to do was keep my head down and pray that we could meet again one day. I was sent to a Industrial Farm somewhere in County Cork. It was there I heard that Mosley had died, assassinated by Socialists who still kept up the fight. We cheered and Allen, despite being just as despotic presented a possible hope of some reform due to his sheer hopelessness. But by now any hope of democracy was gone, in Britain a junta had taken over, the Union for Salvation taking over from an elderly Churchill.

It was then that they sent Jenks.

A man obsessed with ‘returning to the roots’ he decided to test his theories out on our poor beleaguered nation.

Over night, any form of industry was stripped and dismantled. Tractors, Threshers and even herbicides were gone. We were to work the land like our ancestors of yore we were told.

The disappearances came more frequent, anyone that was deemed to know too much about technology were gone, the remains of Lemass’s attempts to build a bright white future for Ireland, destroyed.

I with others was forced to watch the destruction of the city of Cork, yet again the city was erased but unlike times before, it was never to be brought back.

We toiled and slaved away, in time the farms would be filled with those deemed inessential to the ideals of the Union. Amusingly this would later, after Jenks death, include former supporters of his work or radicals obsessed with so called ‘Blood and Soil’ Anarchism. Despite being forced to work with Irish men, they very rarely learned the error of there ways, consumed by a burning hatred for us.

By now the days were long and mechanical. Working on the farm was horrible and full of abusive staff was at least better than some of the alternatives. I heard rumours of the ‘mental institutes’, of the meat packing facilities, of the ‘stud farms’. Getting up to work a field for at least lukewarm food was a luxury in comparison.

As Wallop took over I managed to curry favour with the Commandants, older and dulled by there monotonous schedules, I was able to gain a job repairing there bikes and cars, too lazy too do it themselves and happy to trade small luxuries for a tireless task. This worked out for the best, my body was starting to break from the hard Labour as Middle Age took hold.

Through this job and my general demeanour I was able to find out more about the world, things weren’t good. Comrade Kirov had recently died and a Troika had taken over preparing to retake lands lost to them during the Second Great War. America was consumed by it’s own horrors, compounded by the death of some fella named Reuther and the replacement by a man named Walker.

It was all terrible but at least I could awhile my time reading books in between shifts. It kept my mind busy from the horrors that await not far away.

The years pasted just like that, I heard things were getting worse, Slessor was dead and some guy called Walker had taken over with help from someone called Lauder-Frost. My Commandants kept whispering about purges and disappearances, indeed one day a black car would come to take one of them away, no one really knew why. They would become crueler to the workers in the fields, those being whipped or shot increased by the day.

Indeed, even one day as a black car and some men in suits came out to inspect the grounds I was chosen to be a demonstration of there discipline. Even with the alcohol I was given to ease the pain, the birching left me in pain for several weeks after. It had provided great amusement for the men.

Eventually the men stopped coming, indeed the Commandants steadily started decreasing. I heard muttering of a war going on, some grand crusade against Communism or something.

One day, I was woken up by the glow of a bright light, followed by rumbling. I ran out and saw a distant military base engulfed by an enormous mushroom cloud. Seeing the Commandants fleeing, I decided to do the same, taking a disused bike and cycling as hard as my body would allow. Memories of events nearly forty years prior rippled across me as head off into the cool darkness of the night.

I scavenged the land, and would try and gain information from whatever sources could be garnered. London and Belfast were gone, all that was left were some distant followers of Jenks, finally having gained the chance at a Year Zero. Sometimes I saw vans flying the flags of Green and Black I knew to scurry away as rapidly as possible.

Finally I reached here, my body unable to continue anymore. I know this place will provide a resting place for my bones, and maybe this letter can be my last Will and Testament, all I have left to give is my words…

My God Have Mercy On Us All.

 

[Talwar]

A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE

Prime Ministers of Canada, 1968-1995

1968-1978: Pierre Trudeau (Liberal)
-1968 (maj): Robert Stanfield (Progressive Conservative), Tommy Douglas (New Democratic), Réal Caouette (Ralliement crédiste), A. B. Patterson (Social Credit)
-1972 (min): Robert Stanfield (Progressive Conservative), David Lewis (New Democratic), Réal Caouette (Social Credit)
-1974 (maj): Robert Stanfield (Progressive Conservative), David Lewis (New Democratic), Réal Caouette (Social Credit)
1978-1981: Claude Wagner (Progressive Conservative)
-1978 (min): Donald Macdonald (Liberal), Ed Broadbent (New Democratic), Fabien Roy (Social Credit)
1981-1985: Donald Macdonald (Liberal)
-1981 (maj): Paul Hellyer (Progressive Conservative), Fabien Roy (Social Credit), Ed Broadbent (New Democratic)
1985-1995: Ed Broadbent (New Democratic)
-1985 (maj): Fabien Roy (Social Credit), Michael Wilson (Progressive Conservative), Donald Macdonald (Liberal), Hart Read (New Luddite)
-1989 (maj): Elsie Wayne (Progressive Conservative), Louis Plamondon (Social Credit), Hart Read (New Luddite), Sheila Copps (Liberal)
-1993 (min): Elsie Wayne (Progressive Conservative), Hart Read (New Luddite), Louis Plamondon (Social Credit), Sheila Copps (Liberal)


See that? We're back to the polls again, eh? The last election we had, that was about...well, normal shit...was in 1974, long before ya were born. Trudeau was going for the three-peat, Stanfield thought the third time would be the charm, and the other guys were just chasing dreams and playing spoiler.

The campaign was about inflation. Salaries and prices going up too fast - that's right, it can and does sometimes go up at just the right rate of fast, cuz the government don't want ya hoarding yer cash. Just wasn't working right back then. Trudeau's minority government had fallen because the Dippers didn't think he was doing enough to get a handle on inflation, so he campaigned on some tax cuts to ease the pain. The Tories wanted to impose some temporary wage and price freezes instead. Trudeau thought that was pretty hilarious and came up with his "Zap - you're frozen" catchphrase, while Stanfield couldn't even catch a football in a photo-op, that sad sack.

So the election went about as ya'd expect. Dipper voters, fearing a Tory win - hell, their leader basically said he might back a Tory minority - ran to the Liberals. Trudeau replaced his minority with a majority while everybody else went looking for new leadership. Stanfield was dead from cancer pretty soon afterward, in fact.

I guess Trudeau was intending to get back to his usual foreign affairs third-way thing - pissing off the Americans, writing off the Brits, sucking up to the commies. Maybe some human rights stuff, maybe squeeze the west a little harder, maybe spend a pile of money on things we didn't need.

There, pass me the turnips. Thanks.

Instead, he got the Second October Crisis in '75. People in a condo called Starliner came down with some kind of parasitic thing and turned into fucking psychos. And I mean fucking. Made 'em horny and violent, and they got loose into the rest of Montreal and things went completely sideways. Trudeau had to invoke the the National Defence Act and the War Measures Act again and basically send every bloody soldier we had - plus a bunch of loaners from NATO - to cordon off Montreal and clear the place out.

Ya didn't see a lot of it on the television, but what ya saw was bad. Full twenty-four hour lockdowns, people starving in their own homes or apartments, people getting shot in their driveways or streets for being outside. Supposedly the parasite was so contagious that it just wasn't safe or practical to arrest and treat the infected, so anybody acting unusually violent or horny got plugged. Something like seventy thousand people died that month, including politicians and hockey players. Definitely cost the Habs the cup that year. They'd have taken the Flyers, I reckon.

Oh, and the Olympics. Those were supposed to happen the following summer but with all the damage and the occasional flare-up of Starliner here and there afterward, the IOC got the jitters and yanked 'em. Couldn't agree on another neutral host country, so they just shuffled them down the highway to Toronto, which...wasn't really ready for that but whatever. It's just a big racket anyhow.

So that was pretty freaky, but okay, Trudeau and Bourassa and Drapeau had gotten it sorted out in the end and everybody began to breath and joke about inflation and repatriating the Constitution and getting back to normal.

And goddamn if it didn't happen again.

April '77. At first they said it was another outbreak of Starliner, then they said it was a kind of rabies, and whatever it was, Montreal was the epicentre again. Yer mother literally looked over at me as we watched the news that first night and said, "What the fuck, Dave? If those eastern bastards don't go and separate on their own, we need to make them leave. This is insane."

Same basic story. Sick people acting violently, martial law, lots of death. Not as many people killed this time around, at least, because most people who'd been through Starliner eighteen months earlier were better prepared to get stuck in their homes for a few weeks and blow away any freak that busted through their windows. Still, Montreal really hollowed out afterward. Anglos went off to Toronto or Vancouver, French to Quebec City. Big business bailed too - no, seriously, Montreal had been the center of the economy before this. I know, hard to believe.

Once the last Keloid victim was dead and burned, there was a Royal Commission, and it turned out that both of the outbreaks were the result of doctors fucking around with shit they shouldn't have been fucking around with.

Pass the salt?

Naturally, the big issue in the '78 election was what to do about mad scientists. And how best to rebuild Montreal. And whether Trudeau had done a good job, and whether we were all just kind of tired of the guy. Trudeaumania was a thing of the past. Which was good cuz it never made sense anyway.

So Wagner and the Tories picked up a minority. Did we vote for him? Damned right we did. First and only time I've voted for a crooked Quebec judge, I'll have you know. Started on the process of returning some of our soldiers back to Europe, which made a lot of people uneasy here but made NATO happy. Started talking to Carter about easing up on the border restrictions in place since Starliner. Pushed through a budget to help rebuild Montreal, although we later learned there was a lot of corruption involved in that. Yer shocked, aren't ya?

He also introduced some pretty strict new legislation about doctors and medical research. While a lot of folks on the street liked it, the provinces were iffy, given that healthcare was their jurisdiction for the most part. We started hearing about a big argument in front of the Supreme Court about what level of government could regulate medical research.

The Somafree Scandal put that one to rest pretty quick. Another whack-a-doo doctor doing something called psychoplasmics with mentally disturbed patients. Caused a poor woman to conceive a bunch of murderous...I dunno if you want to call them kids, they were more like small adults. Bunch of people killed - a teacher in her classroom, if ya can believe it, just a horrible thing. And then her own daughter started...never mind. It was a bad scene all around but at least it was, like, twenty or thirty people killed and not thousands. And in Toronto for a change.

When that was resolved, the feds basically said, "provinces can do the legislation, but this is what the legislation will say," and the provinces went along with it cuz the feds kicked in some cash and took the brunt of the legal challenges. Big triumph, Wagner's touring the country saying the rogue doctor problem is solved. Alberta oil can pay for new houses in Montreal, the boys can go back to West Germany. Then Wagner bails. Cancer, just like Stanfield. Cue another leadership race.

Right about then, people start dying in Toronto. Not from killer dwarf-people, though. Their heads...they, uh...blow up. Like when we take the shotgun out back and shoot pumpkins. Just like that, except red. Not orange. There was a tape of a guy at a conference or something. Ya don't see that part, they've censored it, but ya hear everybody reacting to it and then ya see those people and it's just, like, holy shit, what did they just witness? We saw that tape so many times, I can see it in my mind when I close my eyes.

I'll take the squash now.

...So while CBC is reporting on people's heads blowing up, we've also got the 1981 PC leadership convention going on, right? Right, 'cause politics don't stop. There's a young local guy named Clark, kind of earnest and boring, some slimy lawyer from Quebec, and there's Flora MacDonald, who's a big Red Tory and presumed to be the favorite. They're all concerned about the exploding heads and promising to act on whatever the police turn up. And then there's Paul Hellyer. Former Liberal cabinet minister - lost the leadership race to Trudeau in '68, in fact. Hellyer says he knows why people's heads are exploding around Hogtown. It isn't a disease, it isn't rogue doctors. Guess.

No, it isn't commies. Good guess, though.

It's aliens.

And some people believed that, listened to him recount seeing a UFO back in the day, and thought the Alien Action Plan in his platform was pretty solid. And others liked him because he was very much not a Red Tory despite having once been a Liberal, or because he wasn't a woman, lawyer or Joe Clark. And so Hellyer wins the convention and some guy in Regina resigns so he can try to get into Parliament through a by-election win. Which he does, because ya can run anybody in Regina under the PC banner and get them elected.

Now, the heads are still exploding at that point, but the RCMP figure out it's not aliens at all. It's telepathy. Just plain ol' telepathy, induced by a drug secretly manufactured and distributed through a private military company by a major pharmaceutical company. By the time Hellyer has the Governor-General read his first Speech From The Throne, the Mounties have arrested the last surviving scanners, turned them over to the Men in Black Parkas, and are thoroughly examining the remains of Biocarbon and ConSec's offices to figure out what in the actual fuck was happening.

But they do, at least, know it isn't aliens.

The Liberals, Dippers and So-Creds immediately hit Hellyer with a no-confidence vote and we're off to the polls, now with unscrupulous big pharma, telepathy and Paul "Aliens" Hellyer as the key campaign issues. Did we vote for Hellyer? Damn right we did. With reservations. But Donald Macdonald - no, I did not make that up, look it up if ya don't believe me, there's three or four of them in the encyclopedia - Donald Macdonald cruised to victory.

Toss me another bun.

Obviously he had some more regulating to do. Crack down on big pharma and private security outfits. But he also had quite the time with foreign affairs. For a few years there, we were the boogeymen. Nobody wanted Canadians bringing Starliner or Keloid or a suitcase full of killer dwarves into their country. Carter hadn't eased up on restrictions, which hit the economy pretty hard. Well, parts of it. Tourism was dead.

But drug-induced telepathy? Reagan came knockin' hard. And the Soviets were pretty unhappy with the notion of NATO troops just hiding in foxholes and detonating the head of poor Ivan the conscript marching into West Germany. That resulted in a big UN conference and the Berne Treaty, which outlawed research into telepathy and forced us to accept a whole bunch of UN inspectors to make sure it wasn't still happening here.

The ink's barely dry when Videodrome happens. Every two years, almost like clockwork, these things were happening. This was...how do I explain it...a political movement broadcasting video of people being tortured to death while the television signal itself caused brain tumors in anybody who watched it. There was a big spike in brain cancer cases right across North America that didn't end until the Mounties and the FBI conducted some raids in Toronto and Pittsburgh. I lost a high school buddy. Yer Mom lost a cousin. People ya thought were ordinary, good people dying because they had some pretty appalling viewing habits, but also sometimes people who just didn't understand what they were seeing. Plenty of teens thought they were watching some make-believe until it was too late. It didn't discriminate.

Which is why we don't have a television in this household, in case yer wondering.

Videodrome didn't end the Macdonald government, because he had almost two years left in his majority, but he never recovered. Nor did the Liberals. They wore the scandal, and it came out that at least one of their MPs who resigned "to spend more time with his family" actually had a brain tumor. By the 1985, people were angry and scared. Not just here, but all over the world. We were the black sheep of planet Earth.

And ya saw that in the election. The Liberals were going to hang on to a core of their voters, but nobody else trusted them to fix things. The Tories had replaced Hellyer with some Bay Street bigwig, which was utterly tone-deaf. People wanted regulation and security, and for lack of a better choice, they turned to Broadbent. The So-Creds took the Official Opposition because they keep soaking up all the angry Quebecer voters. The Tories got beaten and the Liberals didn't even have official party status. They were out in a corner of Parliament with Read's New Luddites.

Broadbent's guys had no experience governing, but they had some enthusiasm for trying. Their big focus was cracking down on telecomms, of course, but there was some more stuff about pharma and security, too. Big Ed hasn't met something he didn't want to regulate harder, and it's amazing just how many laws they've made these past ten years.

And maybe he's on the right track. It scares me to say that, you know. He's a goddamn eastern socialist hippie, worse than Trudeau ever was, but we haven't had another big horror story since he came in. That AIDS disease seems all natural. The Bartok bombings just a disgruntled ex-employee. No sex-crazed mobs in the streets or murder-dwarves in classrooms. No exploding heads or aliens or...mutants or whatever.

Am I gonna vote for him this time around? Don't know if I can do that. But maybe I won't mind if he hangs on for another term.

Right, now ya had yer dessert and I'm about full and we're losing the light. Go grab yer .22 and a brick of bullets. We'll head out back and get some shooting in. There's a history of violence to this land and no matter what Old Ed's done for public safety, ya can't afford to take his eastern promises for granted.

Spoiler: Select David Cronenberg Filmography

1975: Shivers
1977: Rabid
1979: The Brood
1981: Scanners
1983: Videodrome
1986: The Fly

 

[Lilitou]

Why are Truss’ supporters talking about Gove as if he were Count Dracula?

I know it’s Gove, but seriously these people are so dense if they think it makes him rather than them look bad.

In an astonishing attack on Gove’s character, a friend of Truss added: “Michael is troubled and has never found his place in the sun. There is something deeply troubling about the darkness inside him. It grips him and it takes over.

“It corrupts his soul. The more he plots, the more baggage he collects and the more conflicted he then becomes about who and what he is. His answer to everything is more tax, more salami slicing, more failed economics. The Tory party has rejected him.”

The Darkness Inside
(Or: The Long Count)

​

The Ashen Sarcophagus

1927: Discovery of the Ashen Sarcophagus in Alba Iulia, Transylvania.
1928: Excavation and removal of the Sarcophagus from Alba Iulia, against the warnings of locals.
1930: The Sarcophagus is sold to the University of Aberdeen's archaeology department.
1966: After a break-in, the Sarcophagus is stolen by twelve art thieves.
1967: The Ashen Sarcophagus is found opened and discarded in Kittybrewster, betwixt twelve bloody corpses.
1977: Grampian Police declare the murder of the thieves to be a cold case.

Career of "Michael Gove"
Born unknown, Final Death 2026

1985-1987: Secretary of Aberdeen South Young Conservatives
1987-1988: President of the Oxford Union
1988-1990: Journalist
1990-1991: Reporter for Scottish Television
1991-1996: Journalist for the BBC
1996-2002: Leader Writer for The Times
2002-2005: Founding Chairman of Policy Exchange
2005-2026: Conservative Member of Parliament for Surrey Heath
2005 def: Rosalyn Harper (Liberal Democrats), Chris Lowe (Labour), Steve Smith (UKIP)
2010 def: Alan Hilliar (Liberal Democrats), Matt Willey (Labour), Mark Stroud (UKIP)
2015 def: Paul Chapman (UKIP), Laween Atroshi (Labour), Ann-Marie Barker (Liberal Democrats), Kimberley Lawson (Green), Juliana Brimicombe (Christian), Bob and Roberta Smith (Independent)
2017 def: Laween Atroshi (Labour), Ann-Marie Barker (Liberal Democrats), Sharon Galliford (Green)
2019 def: Alasdair Pinkerton (Liberal Democrats), Brahma Mohanty (Labour), Sharon Galliford (Green), David Roe (UKIP)
2023 def: Alasdair Pinkerton (Liberal Democrats), Brahma Mohanty (Labour), Sharon Galliford (Green), Mike Bennison (Reform UK)
2026 def: Alasdair Pinkerton (Liberal Democrats - United Opposition "Vampire Slayer" Ticket)
2005-2007: Shadow Minister for Housing and Planning
Shadowing: Yvette Cooper (Labour)
2007-2010: Shadow Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families
Shadowing: Ed Balls (Labour)
2010-2014: Secretary of State for Education
2014-2015: Chief Whip of the House of Commons
2015-2016: Secretary of State for Justice
2016: Candidate for Leader of the Conservative Party
2016 Theresa May def: Andrea Leadsom, Michael Gove, Stephen Crabb, Liam Fox
2017-2019: Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs
2019: Candidate for Leader of the Conservative Party
2019 Boris Johnson def: Jeremy Hunt, Michael Gove, Sajid Javid, Rory Stewart, Dominic Raab, Matt Hancock, Andrea Leadsom, Mark Harper, Esther McVey
2019-2021: Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster
2020-2021: Minister for the Cabinet Office
2021-2022: Secretary of State for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities
2021-2022: Minister for Intergovernmental Relations
2022-2026: Leader of the Conservative Party
2022 def: Kemi Badenoch, Nadine Dorries, Liz Truss
2022-2026: Prime Minister of the United Kingdom
2023 def: Keir Starmer (Labour), Nicola Sturgeon (SNP), Ed Davey (Liberal Democrats), Jeffrey Donaldson (DUP), Mary Lou McDonald (Sinn Féin), Adam Price (Plaid Cymru), Colum Eastwood (SDLP), Alex Salmond (Alba), Carla Denyer and Adrian Ramsay (Green), Naomi Long (Alliance)
2026 Abigail van Helsing (United Opposition "Vampire Slayer") def: "Michael Gove" better known as Dracul, Count of Alba Iulia (Conservative)

A long day of hard travel is behind you. You have spent the past twelve hours traversing the dimly-lit and poorly-maintained ancient roads of deepest Transylvania, in search of the place where this whole horrid saga began. As you crest a hill, you notice a dim light emanating from a small building, not too far ahead. With a sign that read "Odihna Călătorului", you surmise that this small shack must be some sort of tavern or hostel. The rain has been falling all day, but it has become more vicious in its wrath and fury; a heavy downpour of biblical proportions is now upon you. Slowly pulling your hood over your head, you make the decision that death by hypothermia is a less preferable outcome than being murdered by country bumpkins, and head toward the tarvern; toward this oasis of light and warmth among the dark and cold.

As you give it even the lightest of taps, the door to the tavern swings open. This place is brighter and warmer than outside, but calling it an oasis might have been your cold, wet feet talking. It was still dark, as seemingly electricity never came to this backwater, and all light was by candle. The dark wooden walls seemed very aged, and the wear and tear of the years were upon them, masked only by the various knick-knacks which had been hung from them; obscure paintings of unknown origins and mysterious artefacts with magical properties.

There were only a few other souls present. Behind the bar, polishing a glass, stood a tall man with sickly-pale skin and dark, black eyes which followed you around the room. Sat across from him were two regulars, both themselves with pale skin and sickly complexions, who were nursing pints of oddly crimson-coloured ale. In the corner, hunched over a stein glass, was a man in a brown hooded robe. His face was covered by the shadow of his hood, but you could just about make out an eyepatch and a broken nose. His skin was still pale, but far less so than his compatriots, and he certainly seemed the least threatening of the four, even taking into account the eyepatch. Not willing to take your chances with the landlord or his lackies, you make your way over to the hooded man and pull up a stool to his table. He looks up, and his eye pierces your soul as you approach.

"What do you know about the Ashen Sarcophagus", you ask him as you wipe away the mud and rain from your sleeves.

The man lets out a single laugh, before he sighs deeply. "You wish to hear the tale of the Ashen Sarcophagus?", he asks you in return. "Are you certain? It is not a tale for the faint of heart or weak of soul".

You take only a moment to respond in kind with a nod. You did not come all this way to chicken out at the last moment, after all.

"You are certain? Very well", he says. "Allow me to set the scene."

He moved his stein to the side, and unfurled a roll of parchment onto the dusty table, which contained ancient writings.

"In the beginning, there was nothing. Not darkness, just nothing; how can there be darkness, if there is no light for it to be contrasted against? Then, there was light; and then there was darkness in turn. We know a lot about the light, of course, for we are creatures of it. It is under the shining brightness of the Sun that we toil, that great empires are built and great works are made. We know far less about the darkness; but it is under darkness where we rest, under darkness where those great empires fall and those great works are destroyed.

The Ashen Sarcophagus is not of the light as we are. It is of the darkness. I cannot tell you when, where or how it was created, but I can tell you that it is ancient. Truly, truly ancient. It is older than every empire which has been made and every disaster which has unmade them. I do not know if it was made here, between the Carpathians, but it was here that it eventually came to reside. It struck fear into the hearts of local people, who saw only destruction that could follow in its wake, and it was buried in the deepest of caverns, deep below the city of Alba Iulia. They thought that would be enough.

The sleep of Alba Iulia soon came to be dominated by the dreams of another. Night by night, the townsfolk found themselves less wedded to each other and more wedded to the deep power which existed below them. It was not long before some townsfolk ventured deep into the caverns below and brought the Sarcophagus back to the surface, against the wishes of the elders. What follows has been, in many ways, scrubbed from history, but I know it to be true. The Sarcophagus was opened, and the great power which resided within it was unleashed unto the world. His legacy survives in mythos; some called him Vlad the Impaler, or the Dracul, or Count Dracula, or Vampyra. The locals knew him as the Count of Alba Iulia, the King of the Vampires and the Lord of Immaculate Darkness. They built great statues and palaces in his honour, sacrificed babes and virgins in his name, and terrorised their neighbours for his favour.

Eventually, those who were of the light came to put a stop to the madness. In a great crusade, an alliance of vampire slayers advanced deep into darkest Transylvania and the Count was cast down from his palaces. Through the power of ancient magicks and curses unknown, he was returned to his ancient slumber, made again to rest inside his Ashen Sarcophagus. His deeds were wiped from history, and he was once again buried below the town of Alba Iulia; this time so deep that his dreams could not infect the sleep of those on the surface. And it was here, far beneath the surface, that this demon stayed for many centuries.

But darkness is powered by light. They are equal and opposite; reflections of one another. So, when the world became lighter; when the darkness of the past was eschewed, the heart of darkness began to beat ever louder. For every war ended, for every child brought out of poverty, for every hope no longer dashed, the Count of Alba Iulia increased in his power. As his power increased, so too did the hubris of the creatures of the light, and at the height of the Roaring Twenties, the Count's powerful mind guided hungry archaeologists to his resting place. They removed his Sarcophagus from its restraints, excavated it from deep below the ground, and brought it to the sceptered isle which contained the seat of global power, from where he could enact his revenge. Unfortunately for the Count, his subconscious power could do only so much; and instead of being brought to London at the heart of the British Empire, he was brought to Aberdeen at its periphery, locked away in storage.

It was not until many years later - long after the place he had been brought had ceased to be the centre of global power - that he was rediscovered by thieves, and brought back into the world of the living. He, of course, repaid their kindness with a quick but brutal death. His plans having been dashed by this setback, he began to formulate new ones. The isle on which he found himself stranded was no longer the total centre of imperial power across the globe, but it remained a powerful place, and one where he could easily usurp that power. It was then that he settled on the alias 'Michael Gove', and began to plot his takeover of the United Kingdom.

He weaselled his way into the natural party of government, using his powers of psychic control to convince his 'peers' that he was utterly necessary to their success. Wearing a powerful glamour, he tested his theory on the local branch of the Young Conservatives, before being able to move on to their centre of learning at Oxford University. It was here that he first met Boris Johnson - a continuous thorn in his side. His plan was going well, until he ran into the inherent classism of the natural governing party. His accent - something between that of Scottish and Romanian - made him considered 'insufficiently Conservative', and so he changed tack, instead beginning to infiltrate that so-called fourth estate which he had been told was the power behind the throne. This did eventually allow him to make his way back into the Conservative Party, gaining the confidence of one David Cameron. It was from this point on that the Count's plan entered fully into play. As "Gove", he rose through the ranks of the British government, using his knowledge and his magicks to convince everyone - even opponents - that he was one of the smartest men in politics, usually by saying mundane things such as "people need housing".

His plan was infinitely complex - as befitted a being of such power - and so it included several feints. Twice did he 'fail' to become leader of the party, unbeknownst to most that in doing so he was helping to position himself as the Prince across the water when the time came. And come that time did in 2022, after his agents helped engineer the total collapse of the Truss ministry. Despite the attempts of Truss to hang on, and of Badenoch and Dorries to both campaign as Johnsonite candidates, "Gove" was able sweep to victory as a safe pair of hands, becoming leader of the party and prime minister.

With supreme power now at his fingertips, the Count began finalising his takeover. He held an election in 2023 in which - against all the polls and all the odds - he triumphed with a 200 seat majority, using his dark magicks to win the election. It was then that he revealed himself as the Count of Alba Iulia, as Dracul, and began a systematic purge of his rivals. Johnson, Starmer, Sturgeon, Davey, Badenoch, Dorries, Truss; all were thrown into the Tower of London and left to rot as Dracul made his mark on the United Kingdom. His power emanated out from his Palace of Westminster like a dark plague, with thousands of Britons directly under his command as mindless thralls. He had them construct lavish monuments to his glorious rule, and again his servants were made to terrorise their neighbours and sacrifice the defenceless to earn his favour.

The Count had triumphed, and would likely have continued to rule indefinitely; were it not for that which I mentioned before. Light and darkness are reflections of one another, and when one grows, so too does the other.

Despite having been born into the ancient line of Van Helsing - the vampire hunters which had led the first crusade - the Anglo-Dutch haematologist Abigail van Helsing never thought that she would have amounted to greatness. She was proven wrong when, in 2026, she was made to lead the United Opposition against Dracul's misrule, uniting the remnants of Labour, the non-enthralled Conservatives, the Liberal Democrats, and all other parties. Utilising the ancient power of mythos, she conjured up an 'election' which could see the opposition defeat Dracul. The Count countered, and in a great battle of wits and magicks the two fought a deadly duel to the death. Abigail eventually came out on top using a secret weapon; the silver ballot. Dracul was again cast down from his great palace, the mythos underlying his power taken from him, but this time the opposition had learnt from the mistakes of the past. They would not grant him rest again; not unless it was eternal.

And so Abigail van Helsing used her ancient magicks to completely undo the Count - rendering him down to his last atom. The cost for this was great, and in the process she also undid herself, giving her life for the freedom of her people."

The hooded man then took a long swig of his stein.

"But you already knew that, didn't you, Helsing?" he said, as your eyes widened.

You put your hand on your silver blade, preparing to defend yourself, but find that your arm is instead grabbed from behind and you are lifted out from your stool, your sword falling to the ground. Looking to your left and right you find that the two regulars have grabbed both your arms and are currently holding you tightly.

"Very clever, vampire slayer" the hooded man snarled, flashing his fangs. "Come to us to tie up the loose ends."

The man pulled an obsidian dagger out from his cloak. "Unfortunately for you", he said, "we think the story ends there. Good night, child of the light. Sleep tight" he said as he plunged the dagger deep into your chest. You black out; your last thought being one of hope that your siblings might succeed where you had failed, and destroy these scions of Dracul to save the world from their eventual revenge.

 

[AH Layard]

I couldn't stop laughing when I first saw this, just brilliant.

 

[Walpurgisnacht]

A dark voice echoes out from the deepest pits of hell:

"LORD SATAN. I HAVE NOT TOLD YOU THIS BEFORE, BUT...I USED TO BE A JOURNALIST. FOR THE TIMES."

 

[Charles EP M.]

RomZomCom

1997 - 2010 - Tony Blair (Labour)
2001: def. William Hague
2005: def. Nick Clegg

2010 - Nick Clegg (Liberal Democrat)
2010: def Tony Blair

2010 - 2015 - Ming Campbell (Liberal Democrat, then GNU)

2015 - 20xx - John McDonnell (Labour)
2015: def Ming Campbell
2020: def Jo Swinson

The zombie plague of spring 2004 - "Judgement Day" as it was memorably called when most of the country woke up two days into the crisis to find the beasts at their doors - killed five million people across Britain and brought the world economy to its knees. The crashing of banking spread contagion that brought down the governments in America, Ireland, Greece, Argentina and others, and brought the European Union's expansion to a halt as eastern nations balked at the sight of the poorer south being bullied. The removal of British soldiers from Iraq and Afghanistan started a free-for-all that threw Iraq into a civil war and had the Afghan government reach out to India (sparking a proxy war between it and Pakistan).

But all of that was 'somewhere else' for Britain, who were still dealing with the threat of walking dead. The banks had to be nationalise and the borders were sealed shut to keep infections in, but needs must and most people were primarily concerned about getting their rations and not getting bitten. By stamping the zombies out, Blair and his government became the new Churchills - the government reached a size and control not seen since the war, all with sweeping public approval. The Conservative Party struggled to figure out an ideological response and were leapfrogged by the Liberal Democrats, though this was only by a few seats under the massive Labour landslide.

Whatever people say later, polls show that the public supported using trained zombies in service jobs by 72%. The economy was incapable of recovering after Judgement Day without some new workers and with immigration (and emigration) still clamped down on, it was either this or automation, and automation would take too long.

Meanwhile, Northern Ireland was physically cut off from Britain and financially cut off as well. Stormont were forced to stop faffing about and cooperate in order to keep the country from collapsing.

By the late 2000s, the rest of the world had regrouped from the 2004 crash and were carrying on without Britain, who continued to agitate that the zombie plague was manageable. The murder rate was up three times due to zombies but this was accepted as a new reality; the controls on civil liberties, movement, health, and the economy were starting to grate on the public, while Blair was visibly aged and a physical & mental wreck of himself. Nick Clegg's Liberal Democrats promised a new way. The stress of taking over, unfortunately, devastated Clegg's health - undoing all his attempts to manage alcoholism - and after a few months, there was a quiet coup.

The Lib Dems were able to loosen up civil liberties again but the economy remained stuck on the lack of immigration, emigration, and trade due to quarantine. Billions that the country could not afford was being pumped into vaccine research to try and erase the zombie plague enough to let people out.

It's still debated how the zombie plague got out and into China, but in 2013, it did and soon spread across the world; fearing the same being done to them as Britain, government after government tried to cover it up until zombies were suddenly on the streets of Philadelphia in rush hour. THe Great Panic threw most of the Earth into chaos - except Britain, who was prepared for this. While the zombie plague began to mutate in places and create fast-moving zombies, the British Army were well trained for the original breed and became the core strategists & advisors for the United Nation's collective war effort.

With the world in tatters, big-state actions and command economies were the order of the day and despite Campbell's efforts, that meant Labour getting back in. Britain is one of the great superpowers of the world, though with a standard of living that would have shocked people in 2003. The Prime Minister has been called "Blairite" abroad and grown to accept it.

 

[Major Crimson]

The Darkness Inside
(Or: The Long Count)

​

2019 def: Alasdair Pinkerton (Liberal Democrats), Brahma Mohanty (Labour), Sharon Galliford (Green), David Roe (UKIP)
2023 def: Alasdair Pinkerton (Liberal Democrats), Brahma Mohanty (Labour), Sharon Galliford (Green), Mike Bennison (Reform UK)

This is an absolutely wonderful list but I never in my life thought I'd see Brahma Mohanty on a SLP list. I think that makes him the fourth person I know from real life to make their way into a list like this.

 

[Nyvis]

RomZomCom

1997 - 2010 - Tony Blair (Labour)
2001: def. William Hague
2005: def. Nick Clegg

2010 - Nick Clegg (Liberal Democrat)
2010: def Tony Blair

2010 - 2015 - Ming Campbell (Liberal Democrat, then GNU)

2015 - 20xx - John McDonnell (Labour)
2015: def Nick Clegg
2020: def Jo Swinson

The zombie plague of spring 2004 - "Judgement Day" as it was memorably called when most of the country woke up two days into the crisis to find the beasts at their doors - killed five million people across Britain and brought the world economy to its knees. The crashing of banking spread contagion that brought down the governments in America, Ireland, Greece, Argentina and others, and brought the European Union's expansion to a halt as eastern nations balked at the sight of the poorer south being bullied. The removal of British soldiers from Iraq and Afghanistan started a free-for-all that threw Iraq into a civil war and had the Afghan government reach out to India (sparking a proxy war between it and Pakistan).

But all of that was 'somewhere else' for Britain, who were still dealing with the threat of walking dead. The banks had to be nationalise and the borders were sealed shut to keep infections in, but needs must and most people were primarily concerned about getting their rations and not getting bitten. By stamping the zombies out, Blair and his government became the new Churchills - the government reached a size and control not seen since the war, all with sweeping public approval. The Conservative Party struggled to figure out an ideological response and were leapfrogged by the Liberal Democrats, though this was only by a few seats under the massive Labour landslide.

Whatever people say later, polls show that the public supported using trained zombies in service jobs by 72%. The economy was incapable of recovering after Judgement Day without some new workers and with immigration (and emigration) still clamped down on, it was either this or automation, and automation would take too long.

Meanwhile, Northern Ireland was physically cut off from Britain and financially cut off as well. Stormont were forced to stop faffing about and cooperate in order to keep the country from collapsing.

By the late 2000s, the rest of the world had regrouped from the 2004 crash and were carrying on without Britain, who continued to agitate that the zombie plague was manageable. The murder rate was up three times due to zombies but this was accepted as a new reality; the controls on civil liberties, movement, health, and the economy were starting to grate on the public, while Blair was visibly aged and a physical & mental wreck of himself. Nick Clegg's Liberal Democrats promised a new way. The stress of taking over, unfortunately, devastated Clegg's health - undoing all his attempts to manage alcoholism - and after a few months, there was a quiet coup.

The Lib Dems were able to loosen up civil liberties again but the economy remained stuck on the lack of immigration, emigration, and trade due to quarantine. Billions that the country could not afford was being pumped into vaccine research to try and erase the zombie plague enough to let people out.

It's still debated how the zombie plague got out and into China, but in 2013, it did and soon spread across the world; fearing the same being done to them as Britain, government after government tried to cover it up until zombies were suddenly on the streets of Philadelphia in rush hour. THe Great Panic threw most of the Earth into chaos - except Britain, who was prepared for this. While the zombie plague began to mutate in places and create fast-moving zombies, the British Army were well trained for the original breed and became the core strategists & advisors for the United Nation's collective war effort.

With the world in tatters, big-state actions and command economies were the order of the day and despite Campbell's efforts, that meant Labour getting back in. Britain is one of the great superpowers of the world, though with a standard of living that would have shocked people in 2003. The Prime Minister has been called "Blairite" abroad and grown to accept it.

Did you write all that to call McDonnell a Blairite. Because if so, worth it.

 

[Walpurgisnacht]

When First We Practice As Deceivers
​

2019-2022: Boris Johnson (Conservative)
def 2019: (Majority) Jeremy Corbyn (Labour), Nicola Sturgeon (SNP), Jo Swinson (Liberal Democrats)
2022-2022: Liz Truss (Conservative)
2022-2024: Penny Mourdant (Conservative)
2024-2027: Keir Starmer (Labour)
def 2024: (Minority with SNP confidence and supply) Penny Mourdant (Conservative), Richard Tice (Reform), Angus Robertson (SNP), Ed Davey (Liberal Democrats)
2025 Scottish Independence Referendum: 51.7% YES, 48.3% NO
def 2026: (Coalition with Liberal Democrats) Mike Heaver (Reform), Richard Foord (Liberal Democrats), Tobias Ellwood (One Britain One Nation), Adam Price (Plaid Cymru), Nadine Dorries (Conservative)
2027-2029: Richard Foord (Liberal Democrats leading coalition with "PR" Labour)
2029-2031: Edward "Remeece" Freeman (Reform)
def 2029: (Minority) Richard Foord (Liberal Democrat--People's Alliance), Keir Starmer (Labour), Bin Afolami (One Britain One Nation), Jackie Weaver (We Have The Authority), Nadine Dorries (Conservative), Carla Denyer & Adrian Ramsay (Green--People's Alliance), Adam Price (Plaid Cymru), Cat Smith (Independent Labour--People's Alliance)
2031-2031: Martin Daubney (Reform)
2031-2032: Edward "Remeece" Freeman (Reform)
2032-2034: Ben Wallace (Independent leading Government of all the talents)
def 2032: (Minority) Jackie Weaver (We Have The Authority), Nick Thomas-Symonds (Labour), Monica Harding & Stephen Kinnock (Liberal & People's Alliance), Edward "Remeece" Freeman (Reform), Carla Denyer & Adrian Ramsay (Green), Jessica Zbinden-Webster (One Britain One Nation), Delyth Jewell (Plaid Cymru), Alice Grant (Conservative)
2034-2057: Jackie Weaver (We Have The Authority)
def 2034: (Majority) Ben Wallace (Government Of All The Talents)
2038 Enabling Act Referendum: 79% YES, 21% NO
2057-XXXX: "Jackie Weaver" (We Have The Authority) [disputed]

Your name and details? Just a formality for the official immigration records.

Jute. Edgar Jute. 49 years old, white male. Engineer. I've been in Gretna Refugee Camp One for...three years. Seems longer, really.

Right. With that out of the way...it says here you were employed by the British government between 2035 and 2059. Is that correct?

Yeah. I was hired right out of Warwick--should have been a red flag, really. I started out in the Office of Telecommunications, but after a year, some...they needed more people to work on a project, and I fit...experience that I had, apparently that was needed. So I was moved over to UK-GNSS--the people who, uh, they make satellites. So there I was responsible for a lot more R&D. It was a good position.

This project was known as the Malachi Network, correct?

...fuck.

It's not that bad, Mr Jute. If you give us any valuable information on it, we'll take it into consideration at your trial.

I...look, I appreciate it, but I think any info you give me will just keep me in prison for longer.

I'll start at the beginning, right? Just to give some context, however bad it still looks.

Feel free to take your time.

Right. So you've got to remember that, well, we'd had 22 years of political chaos--that was, at the time, nearly my whole life. Nearly my whole life had been uncertainity, governments toppling over themselves with populist or antipopulist agendas, parties splitting apart from referenda, ever-more crazed rhetoric...we left the EU, let you lot leave us, got rid of FPTP, but nothing seemed to help. It never stopped. All these false messiahs kept rising to the top, and the establishments that they chafed with just threw them over once they turned out to be clowns, or something outside their control broke everything anyway. The man who got my first vote--a rapper, you wouldn't have heard of him--went from PM to backbencher to PM again in ten months! Because of a flood!

It was all just a big bubble. A talking shop, for people who thought they were above ordinary Brits. The idea was to break it all up, forever, and...that still doesn't justify what I did. Doing what I was ordered to do. Not in the slightest.

Could you please explain what it was you were ordered to do?

Sure, I'm just...I'm just getting to that bit.

First, you've got to circle back around a bit. Jackie Weaver. You know her, you love her, you can see her face broadcasted on giant screens just over the border, and if you're lucky a bunch of choreographed dancers making a giant aerial representation of same. Now, you're not going to believe this...but there's something not entirely normal about her.

Mr Jute, sarcasm will not get you very far with us.

Fine, fine, fine. My point still stands, though. I mean, it started out small, at first. The Zoom video she was in, y'know, the one where that bloke tells her she doesn't have any authority--fuck me, I must have watched that a thousand times by now--that was only when she was, what, sixty-something? We're all lucky that it didn't come on full-bloom when she was a tot. Maybe it needed the Internet to work, or something. There's still so much we'll nev--we don't know. It--the video launched a thousand ships, metaphorically. Then they put her on TV, and all hell broke loose. After that damn reality show, she was being touted as the ideal outsider, someone who'd turn over the shoddy state of British politics, and somehow, that got her into Parliament, and it all just grew from there. You ever seen a snowball rolling down a hill? Not in real life, of course, in a cartoon, where it rolls and rolls and just keeps getting bigger and bigger? Like that.

All of this was despite her never really doing or saying anything that'd explain it. She was only moderately funny, had pretty standardly dull political views, all the charisma of, well, a sixty-year-old parish councillor--she shouldn't have even won the reality show! Campbell just gave her a bunch of extra points for "leadership"! She just had this inexplicable aura around her, that let her cheat her way through politics. Made everyone just jump out of her way.

It wasn't everybody who was suckered by her...whatever. Her campaign manager--I forget his name--he was maybe a bit more immune than the rest. Once she got into No10, he started work on a project. That's when they called me in. I had some...relevant experience.

What was this experience in?

[indistinct mumbling]

Mr Jute, if you could speak up, please?

Fetish sites. I wrote for a hypnosis fetish site. I was a horny teenager, and it wasn't harming anybody. Well, it put me in a position to harm everybody. Not sure if that's the same thing, though.

Anyway, what that meant was that I knew a decent amount about actual hypnosis. Which was...aligned to the goal of making the Malachai Network. The idea was that we'd prevent all the chaos, the splits, the factions, the stupid ideas coming down from the top. Just have one "ordinary" but charismatic figurehead to be beloved by the masses but utterly impotent, and we'd get on with managing things properly. The same old philosopher-king bollocks you can get from any midwit civil servant anywhere after 2 pints.

It doesn't properly explain why we did what we did, really. I'm half-certain that most of us were already doped up on Weaver, and our conscious minds were just filtering through a rationalisation for our crazed decisions. The network went up all the same, though, because the people with doubts didn't do bollocks to stop it.

What...was the Malachi Network, exactly?

I told you where I worked, didn't I? Satellites. They were a system of satellites. Didn't start out that way--originally we were just going to do subliminal stuff in TV broadcasts, but no-one watches live TV anymore and all the mobile service providers had been brought out by people a continent away from our legislative powers. It was easier to get a radio dish up into geosynchronous orbit than to regulate Apple.

We'd managed to isolate the signal Weaver produced by then. It was--well, if you asked two people in the department, you'd get three answers. Whatever it was she produced when recorded, we could replicate it. Intensify it, even. A concentrated form of Weaver-Beam raining down on the UK from space. This frequency did something to the brain, that manifested as devotion. A sincere love, a belief in their ability to lead and be one of them. Thomas--the campaign manager, he went on a lot about how we'd found the source of leadership. Alexander, Hong Xiuquang, BoJo, every king or rebel or popular politician through history, all of them, according to him, just people lucky enough to extrude this super-charisma.

What we didn't realise was quite what the effects of constant, 24-7 exposure to...to effectively brainwashing, would have on the British psyche.

Honestly, I think Jackie had the worst time of it out of anybody. She never asked to be in charge of an organic personality cult. She didn't ask for one Zoom meeting where she got a bit bolshy to be played on every channel 'til Kingdom Come. She didn't ask for people naming their kids after her, or postrating themselves before her in the street, or setting up shrines to her old shoes. I mean, imagine that life--infinite theoretical power, but you can't have a normal conversation with anyone. The only human in a kingdom of dogs. Every time I saw her, if I took a minute or two to push away the urge to throw myself into a fire if she asked, she just looked...confused. Confused, and tired, and wanting to go home. Not that anyone would let her.

So...if Weaver isn't in control, who is?

Good question. A very, very, good question. The idea was that it was, well, us. The men in grey suits, made immune to Weaver's aura. The problem was that, well, none of us actually had immunity. We all just thought we did because we were able to rationalise our way around our decisions. We were just checking in on the quality of the broadcasts, caught up in the crowd's emotions, operating to make sure the propaganda had the maximum reach...that sort of thing.

It...if you've ever met an alcoholic, y'know, one of the high-functioning ones? They're always making excuses. It's a hot day, better have a drink, oh this is just for the builders, not for me, it's just a small drink, something to start the day off with...that's what it was like, in Whitehall, by the end. Everyone making excuses as to why they weren't like the addled masses, even as they huddled around the screens blaring Weaver's faces like drunks around a tap. By the end, most of the meetings were about providing more forms of Weaver to the public, and by extension, to us. Infrastructure, housing, the climate--all of that was out of the window. I watched people I respected and looked up to as pillars of savvy intellect beat each other to death with bare fists for the right to touch an old woman's discarded shirt.

...fucking hell.

Bit unprofessional of you, there. What kind of standards are the Scottish government demanding these days?

Sorry. Continue.

Right. Anyway, I'd love to say that I fled, and ended up here, sweating through withdrawal with all the other economically destitute Weaver junkies, because I was sickened at my own actions and had a change of heart. I didn't. I left because we'd made a society of addicts, and were about to run out of the supply.

Run out of...what?

Weaver's dead. Nasty fall, five years ago. All the servants were too overawed to touch her, and...yeah.

None of us made plans, or contingencies, because, well, we were all addled, weren't we? We all thought she'd survive forever, somehow. We didn't even want to think of a world without her. The day we made the announcement, Thomas--the campaign guy, closest thing we had to a leader--he walked out of the room dead silent. We found him a few hours later, hanging from the rafters.

We could just have kept running the same videos again and again, and they did. They are. The thing is, though, like any group of addicts, the public of the UK--whatever's left of them--the British public get desensitised. You have to keep upping the dosage, or changing it up, because the old stuff won't work any more. I'm sure your government's noticed. They're restive, spend longer times at the performances or what have you, hollow eyes, paler skin, more aggressive...eventually, nothing will be enough to keep them sated. My old mates, the ones left at the top, they've got grand schemes of trying to find a replacement, or desperate bluffs of trying to create new activites or ways to venerate her. Me, I just thought I'd leave before I was eaten by a mob of lunatics trying to sniff Buckingham Palace's carpets.

Do you know what you're going to try and do next?

I do. Wish I didn't.

...why not?

Look, this is nothing personal, alright? You've been a decent interviewer, the free biscuits were good, and you haven't punched me in the face for destroying an entire country's psyche. But I know what's going to happen, because you're a professional. You're going to give this interview to your boss.

Your boss will read through it, and then they'll send it on to their boss. And so on, and so forth, and every time it moves up the chain, some data, some vital element of it--the look on my face, the words I used, the implications of this fucking jungle of slowly dying Englishmen huddled around photos of an unlucky parish councillor right outside the door here--will be lost. All that'll remain is the idea.

It's dangerous times, these days. The economy's always spiralling or stagnating, the seas are rising, extremists are all over the place. It's hard to keep a nation stable. How wonderful it would be, if there was some way to bypass all that! To just make people believe in a country again! Or at least believe in some figure that represents the country. Some charismatic individual, who can make people feel better about their shithole lives just by existing.

Remember, if Thomas was right, then everyone produces some sort of mind-whammy charisma beams. Amping up Weaver made Western accounts of North Korea look sane, but amping up some actor or staffer with a satellite system, well, that could be controlled, couldn't it? Even if it can't, do you want to take the risk that some foreign government could make their own super-figurehead? We've got to do it, and save the nation forever, and stay in power forever. We'll bring some sense back, prevent all the chaos, shut the useless talking shop.

There's no way of putting the mushroom cloud back into the nice shiny tube.

Some day, a week or two from now, a very nice car is going to drive through Gretna. Someone will walk out of that car, shiny shoes splashing in the muck of thousands of people in barely human housing. They'll pace through our excuses for streets, until they get to a dismal shed leaning next to an old tree. They'll push open the door, and see me squatting on my matress, and ask "Mr Jute, we'd like you to replicate some of your earlier work for us."

And I'll say "Make me, Prime Minister".

 

[Walpurgisnacht]

Five days left to go!

 

[StarlightAxolotl]

Below
always watching, never talking. Tick Tock. fe… fe… fe… soon it will be time. ;} (also do not vote for this)
2001 - 2009: George W. Bush
2009 - 2017: Barack Obama
2017 - 2021: Donald Trump
2021 - 202X: Joe Biden

Moments tick away in boredom. You think it’s worth checking, just now, just to see if there’s anything new. A Notification, hanging there out in the blue, just beginning you… click. The Thread unfolds before you, only four? What is this joke, this chicanery? Why is this here, what is this meant to be? Why even bother to share something so low quality. But then you see. You blink, blink again. From the margins. It blinks back.

 

[Fleetlord]

If He Had Lived

(ObDisclaimer: This is a cover of another work and the block-quoted text is not mine.)

Presidents of the United States

1961-1969: John F. Kennedy/Lyndon Johnson (Democrat)
Def. 1960: Richard Nixon/Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr. (Republican)
Def. 1964: Barry Goldwater/William E. Miller (Republican)

Today, for my version of history, I will be looking at the Kennedy assassination and trying to answer the question, “What If He Had Lived?”

Well, here’s a start.

He would have eaten lunch. Did you know he was on his way to a lunch when he was killed? He was! He was probably hungry. If he had lived, he would have eaten – big bites full of gusto.

Later that day he would have gone to Austin. He would have breathed deep, healthy breaths.

He probably would have been reelected if he lived. Sure! Handsome charismatic guy like that? Four more years! No Lyndon Johnson (or Lyndon Johnson would, as far as I know, continue to exist – but no President Johnson). Without the pressure of having to win another term, perhaps he would have pulled us out of Vietnam in ‘66 or '67, saving countless lives and forever altering the cultural and artistic landscapes of the late '60s and early '70s. Our art would be different, there would be more of us, and he would go on living.

Jackie Kennedy would feel no grief. She would never have to feel grief again. She would stand, ageless and smiling, on bandstands, on stages, waving, her smile distant (not even a smile, but a performance of a smile), waving, on bandstands, on stages, griefless, waving, ageless, smiling.

Presidents of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam

1945-1965: Hồ Chí Minh (Workers' Party of Vietnam)
1965-1967: Tôn Đức Thắng (Workers' Party of Vietnam)

Presidents of the Republic of Vietnam

1955-1963: Ngô Đình Diệm† (Personalist Labor Revolutionary Party)
1963-1967: Nguyễn Ngọc Thơ (Independent)

Presidents of the Federal Republic of Vietnam
1967-196x: Trần Văn Đôn (National Democratic Front)


"While state media credits the leadership of General Tran, or occasionally the Saigon Government's offer of general amnesty, for the sudden collapse of the Viet Cong, but ARVN sources, speaking off the record, admit that they've seen very little combat in the past year, or very little contact at all with the VC except when straggled bands emerged from the forest under the white flag of surrender...

"I interviewed one former Viet Cong member (name withheld upon his request), asking if he had surrendered after a defeat in combat, perhaps to some previously unknown third party."

"No... combat... no... battle. Only... the jungle, and... the mud. We thought... we knew the jungle, but... it... it was so much darker than we... remembered. So... much... mud. We... kept.... marching, expecting to... find... the enemy... to find... anything... but it was only... more darkness... more mud... on and on... until... we gave up all hope... all desire... for victory, or... anything."

"And so, when you emerged, you decided to surrender?"

"Emerged..... emerged? I’m……still…in…the mud! Don't you understand what you've done, American! I’m…still…in…the…mud! I’m…still…in…the mud!!”

C'mon, David, you know we can't publish this. For a couple of reasons.​

1969-1977: John F. Kennedy/Robert F. Kennedy (Democrat)
Def. 1968: George Romney/Edward Brooke (Republican), George Wallace/Harlan Sanders (Washington/Jefferson Democrat)
Def. 1972: John M. Ashbrook/Albert Watson (Republican)

The year is 1973. Kennedy had not died, and is finishing his third term. An embargo in somewhere called the “Middle East” results in soaring gas prices. But the confidence America has for their president is high. He saw us through many other crises – including the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, the Svitz-Franchia Standoff of 1967, and the rise of the Blood Space War in 1971. We wait in long lines at gas stations, but he comes by to each gas station – thousands of gas stations at once, multiplying himself as he has learned to do, and smiling at us, and we feel at ease. Broke, but at ease.

Presidents of the United Arab Republic

1955-1967: Gamal Abdel Nasser (Arab Socialist Union)
1967-1973: Yitzhak Rabin (Joyous Congregation)
1973-197x: Saddam Hussein Abd al-Majid al-Tikriti (Joyous Congregation)

"...and thanks to our fun, modern, and mandatory worker amenities like on-site primary schools and hip, co-op apartments, Aramco production is back and higher than ever! Say goodbye to gas lines, and get ready to smile at the pump!"

"So, do you agree with the President's statement that the Saudi nationalist threat has been..."

"Oh, there are still a few party-poopers, but the UAR forces are even now tracking them down and giving them a stern talking-to and an official Amarco "Party-Pooper" full-face hat."

"...I see. Regarding your on-site schools, how do you respond to the Vatican Interfaith Council's charges of religious indoctrination carried out by Aramco and it's... parent company?"

"Well, I think it sounds like something a party-pooper would say, Walter."

"Why don't you let me take this, Mizz Mallard?"

"I... yes, of course, Jimmy."

"Please proceed, Ambassador Carter."

"What Mizz Mallard means to say is that the Aramco and the United States fully supports the free practice of religion in the UAR, and so does my friend President Hussein. Howevah, we also support the government's efforts towards a lasting end peace in a long-troubled land. The Joyous Congregations are not asking anyone to convert, they simply remind everyone -- Sunni, Shi'ite, Jew, and Christian, that we all worship the same Almighty God, and he smiles on all his children, and wants us all to be our most perfect selves."

"Perfect and productive selves."

"Why yes of course, Lauren."

There's something wrong with his TEETH.
​

1977-1985: John F. Kennedy/James E. Carter (Democrat)
Def. 1976: Eugene McCarthy/John Hospers (Republican)
Def. 1980: LaDonna Harris/Tamika Flynn (Our God Does NOT Smile), George Bush/John Rarick (Republican)

He continues as president through the turbulence of the '70s and into the '80s. A biopic is made of his life, starring the mid-level movie star Ronald Reagan (who will soon be washed up and entering his late-life career of narrating commercials for frozen food and insurance). The movie doesn’t even mention Dallas. Nothing happened in Dallas, except a short drive to lunch. This is mostly what happens in Dallas.

Paul Simon releases his classic album Graceland. It is about the time that President Kennedy visited Graceland in 1982. The album is a huge flop due to its limited subject matter and aural motif of pained moans and lawnmower engines.

Jackie Kennedy has not aged. In fact, she appears younger than before. At night, she walks among the monuments in D.C., serene and alone, not even a Secret Service escort with her. Anyone who tries to approach finds themselves pushed back by a faint mist that smells of apple and spice, and feels like thousands of needles. Witnesses claim her feet are not even touching the ground. Her arms seem longer than they used to, as though they were the only part of her body continuing to change.

Prime Ministers of the United Kingdom

1957-1963: Harold Macmillan (Conservative)
1963-1964: Alec Douglas-Home (Conservative)
1964-1974: Harold Wilson (Labour)
1974-1979: Reginald Maudling (Conservative)
1979-1984: Anthony Barber (Conservative)
1984-198x: Michael Foot (Labour)

"With Great Britain following France and the former West Germany out of NATO, it is fair to say that the alliance is for all practical purposes defunct. Furthermore, it seems clear that Prime Minister Foot and Defence Minister Ruddock are fully committed to their platform of complete nuclear disarmament by the end of the year.

"Degradation of our defense capabilities vis-a-vis the Soviets is mitigated by the apparent collapse of the Warsaw Pact and the unwillingness or inability of the Soviet Union to project military force beyond its Western border, most obviously its failure to respond to German reuinifcation under Meinhof. Sources in the Soviet Union report that even Soviet troops stationed in the former East Germany were afflicted the European Mass Delusion of November 7th, 1983, and, recalling their 'death' in a nuclear exchange on that date, refused orders to mobilize..."

1985-1993: John F. Kennedy/Nancy Kassebaum (Democrat)
Def. 1984: Harold Stassen/Angela Davis (Republican)
Def. 1988: Eugene McCarthy/Ron Paul (Republican)

1993-2001: John F. Kennedy/William J. Clinton (Democrat)
Def. 1992: Ron Paul/James Bo Gritz (Republican)
Def. 1996: H. Ross Perot/Ralph Nader (Republican)

2001-2009: John F. Kennedy/Hillary Rodham Clinton (Democrat)
Def. 2000: Jesse Ventura/Ralph Nader (Republican)
Def. 2004: Ralph Nader/Leonard Peltier (Republican)

2009-2017: John F. Kennedy/John S. McCain (Democrat)
Def. 2008: Alan Keyes/Sarah H. Palin (Republican)
Def. 2012: Donald Trump/Rosie O'Donnell (Republican)

2017-2025: John F. Kennedy/Barack Obama (Democrat)
Def. 2016: Donald Trump/Ivanka Trump (Republican)
Def. 2020: Donald Trump/Alex Jones (Republican)

The year is this year. The day is today. The time is now. President Kennedy calls a press conference. His salt-and-pepper hair is neatly combed, his hands are steady. He has been president for decades. He opens the conference by issuing a warm birthday message to cinematic treasure Lee Marvin. Mr. Marvin turns 30 today, and is perhaps the nation’s most beloved performer.

This pleasantry aside, the president announced that we have a grave national problem that must be addressed. He then said your name several times, and shuddered for five silent minutes. An aide showed some pictures of you, while the president pointed at them saying, “Here we see the problem.”

Finally he said your name again, visibly blanched, and said, “Right? Right?”

Congress widely agreed with the president’s message, and several bills were introduced with the goal of solving the problem that is you.

Jackie Kennedy had no comment. Not only had she never felt grief, it seemed to her that she had not felt anything at all since that day she had lunch in Dallas. It was as though some real human part of herself had experienced something so intense, and sincere, that all feelings had diverged from this false version of herself, leaving her hollow.

It had been an okay lunch.

The president complained of headaches. He was experiencing more and more as the years went on.

Administrators of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration

1961-1968: James E. Webb
1968-1971: Thomas O. Paine
1971-1974: Curtis LeMay
1974-1984: Robert A. Frosch
1984-1995: James E. Carter
1995-1998: Bill Nelson†
1998-2001: Richard Myers
2001-2007: George Walker Bush
2007-2011: C. Robert Kehler
2011-2019: William L. Shelton
2019-202x: Pete Buttigieg

"So my whole life I've been told that my dad volunteered for the Blood-Space War, but last week, when we were going through the house -- Mom's been really sick lately, I found these old letters where he talks about voting for Nader, of all people, and how he doesn't trust the government, and all of these things that make it sound like... some kind of dissident, so it's really weird that he'd leave and join the military when I was 5? Of course I can't ask Mom about it again, not right now.

And the weird thing is it still sounds like him. Or... like how I think he would sound. I still get the letters from him, every year, even if the last one started with 'You're 32 now, and probably married with kids of your own', which, wrong on a couple of points there, Dad. I know Secretary Pete is saying that the temporal delay is worse this year for some reason, and insisted it had nothing to do with Canada, which doesn't exist -- like, I know that, Pete.

So... maybe they kidnapped my Dad and made him write these letters, or maybe they killed him and have a really good ghostwriter or something, or maybe I'm just reading too much into these and everything's above board, maybe money was really tight... and God it sounds so fucked to talk about this like it's "normal". Like, one day in 1971 JFK said "Our descendants a thousand years hence face a grave threat, a threat beyond imagining, and we will help them fact it, not because it is easy, but because it is hard" and we all just... went with it. Like, what? How do we even know there even is... was... will be? a Blood-Space War? What if they made it all up, like they probably made up Canada (which doesn't exist)?

I think... I think I looked in the mirror and saw nothing smiling back at me."

2025-2033: John F. Kennedy/Nikki Haley (Democrat)
Def. 2024: Donald Trump/Joe Rogan (Republican)
Def. 2028: Bill Maher/Donald Trump, Jr. (Republican)

2033-2041: John F. Kennedy/Ruben Gallego (Democrat)
Def. 2032: Lauren Boebert/Spencer Raspone (Republican)
Def. 2036: Marjorie Taylor Greene/Amelia Lane (Republican)

2041-2049: John F. Kennedy/Alia Shelesh (Democrat)
Def. 2040: The Mighty Glow Cloud/various (ALL HAIL), Chris Myers/Chandler Yohman (Republican)
Def. 2044: Timmy Thick/Nadia Grimwald (Republican)

2049-2057: John F. Kennedy/Jimmy Donaldson (Democrat)
Def. 2048: Aditya Prasad/Elizabeth Michaels (Republican)
Def. 2052: Barron Trump/Diana Militsa (Republican)

2057-2065: John F. Kennedy/Kevin R. Free (Democrat)
Def. 2056: Barron Trump/Kaitlin VanSickle (Republican)
Def. 2060: Steve Carlsberg/Stacy Walton (Republican)

2065-2073: John F. Kennedy/Exa Dark Sideræl Musk (Democrat)
Def. 2064: Steve Carlsberg/Maple Livna (Republican)
Def. 2068: Steve Carlsberg/Dorothea Boubacar (Republican)

2073-2081: John F. Kennedy/Roger Harlan (Democrat)
Def. 2064: Steve Carlsberg/Dinesh Karthik (Republican)
Def. 2068: Esther Stein (Gold Head)/Esther Stein (Azure Head) (Republican)

The year is 2080. Coastal cities all over the world are succumbing to the water that had long sustained them – the basic elements of each city, like streets and burger shacks, slowly disappearing below the sea foam.

The Eighth Siege of the Great Night Vale Temple rages on. The scion of the Dark Order makes his prophesied appearance at the exact correct prophesied time (after several false starts where he had arrived too early and had to leave again).

President Kennedy offers a steady hand to the nation, even as his beloved Massachusetts is swallowed by the rising seas. He brokers a deal with the Sino-Soviet superstate that provides safe passage for the masses of climate refugees, and also those fleeing the shrouded armies of the Dark Order. He addresses the country with inspiring words that people will remember for decades afterwards.

“The sea levels will not rise another inch. Instead, the American people will rise to meet the sea levels.”

Everyone applauds. The sea levels continue to rise. Millions are displaced.

Jackie Kennedy lies in the White House Rose Garden. She lies there for years. Moss grows on her face. She is trying to remember what really happened. She is trying to understand what the even means.

“Isn’t this all really happening now? But it doesn’t feel like it!” It feels like what was real was left behind long ago, and now even the raindrops on her upturned face are a series of tiny lies.

General Secretaries of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union

1953-1964: Nikita Khruschev
1964-1982: Leonid Brezhnev†
1982-1983: Yuri Andropov†
1983-1996: Yuri Gagarin
1996-2013: Alexsandr Lukashenko
2013-208x: Xi Jinping

"Please Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom."

 

[Mumby]

My very poor and not very scary entry.

For Every Action

reagan busts his flush, the christian right don't get a look in during the 1980s, while a grimmer satanic panic festers under the surface...

1974-1977: Gerald Ford (Republican)
1977-1981: Jimmy Carter (Democratic)
1976 (with Walter Mondale) def. Ronald Reagan (Republican)
1981-1985: Gerald Ford (Republican)
1980 (with Jack Kemp) def. Jimmy Carter (Democratic), John Rarick (American Independent)
1985-1993: Walter Mondale (Democratic)
1984 (with Dianne Feinstein) def. Jack Kemp (Republican), Jerry Falwell (American Independent)
1988 (with Dianne Feinstein) def. Pat Robertson (Republican), Jim Traficant (American Independent)
1993-1997: Dianne Feinstein (Democratic)
1992 (with Jay Rockefeller) def. Elizabeth Dole (Republican), Geraldo Rivera (Peoples')
1997-2001: Tipper Gore (Peoples')
1996 (with Dick Cheney) def. Carroll Campbell (Republican), Dianne Feinstein (Democratic)
2001-2005: John McCain (Democratic)
2000 (with Dick Gephardt) def. Tipper Gore (Peoples'), Tom Ridge (Republican), Ralph Nader (Independent)
2005-2009: Tipper Gore (Republican Peoples')
2004 (with Mike Huckabee) def. John McCain (Democratic), Ralph Nader (Libertarian)
2009-2017: Mike Huckabee (Republican Peoples')
2008 (with Tim Pawlenty) def. Mike Bloomberg (Democratic), Bernie Sanders (Libertarian)
2012 (with Rick Santorum) def. Brian Schweitzer [replacing Bill Richardson] (Democratic), Mike Gravel (Libertarian), various (BADD-PAC)
2017-0000: Tom Morello (Democratic)
2016 (with Al Gore) def. Sarah Palin (Republican Peoples')
2020 (with Al Gore) def. Greg Abbott (Republican Peoples')

So yeah, the Conservative Revolution gets delayed for over a decade as Mondale haltingly introduces neoliberal reforms - much is made of the transatlantic comparison with the Jenkins Ministry in the UK at the time.

In the meantime, the AIP becomes the vehicle of conservatives dissatisfied with the GOP, of the Moral Majority movement, and finally of the coalition of anti-Satanic investigators and activists who made careers for themselves during the Mondale Administration drawing attention to a spiritual canker in American society.

The anti-Satanists take control as the religious right splits over Robertson's leadership of the Republicans and failures to build bridges with Falwell. The AIP branding was too explicitly white supremacist for the new leadersd so the Peoples Party was born.

This shift was enough for one of the 'Washington Wives' who had become a central activist in the movement to take the plunge into electoral politics herself. Tipper Gore led the Peoples Party to a decent third place in a hung electoral college and her otherwise liberal record led to the Democrats backing her ahead of the possibility of putting the GOP in the White House, while the Senate elected Cheney to accompany her.

The Gore marriage broke down during the Gore Presidency as Cheney helped Gore stock her Administration with 'apolitical' picks who de facto answered the him, whilst hoping to bring the Peoples' activist base into an apparently ossifying Republican Party. Many moderate Republicans jumped ship to the Democrats during 'the unholy alliance'. And when election night came, the GOP plumped for a mainstream conservative rather than Gore's unwieldy clown car - a liberal held the steering wheel but the boot had LaRouchites, Neo-Confederates and Jack Chick.

Both parties learnt the cost of a divided right however, while the McCain Administration bled votes to the reinvigorated Libertarians - readjusted to a left wing bent and highly energised by the Gore-Cheney Administration's intense moralism. Gore came back at the head of a newly merged political organisation, and firmly in bed with Christian fundamentalism.

Congressional majorities allowed her a free hand to introduce wide ranging censorship laws on everything from rap music to video games - but in particular Dungeons and Dragons. Gore had enjoyed an early victory I'm her first term, oversees the collapse of TSR and the apparent destruction of DnD. But a whole cottage industry of photocopiers and homebrewers had sprung up in place of a corporate leadership.

The Satanic Panic had lost much of its steam after 1997 but the emergence of so-called 'Xerox covens' of DnD players gave it new life. Police academies regurgitated Chick Tracts almost unedited. The FBI was inundated with tips by concerned parents. At the same time the 00s New Counterculture lent strength to the insurgent Libertarians.

After Gore left office, Huckabee rowed back on the monomanic pursuit of fantasy role play and returned to more standard Christian fundamentalist fare like trying to federally ban abortion and alter the contents of school books to prevent the existence of gays. This was too much for Gore who sponsored her BADD-PAC to prevent Huckabee's election only for it to be revealed how specific and narrow her actual ideology was by 2012.

The Democrats shifted dramatically to the left under a candidate also acceptable to the Libertarian left - Bernie Sanders actually endorsed Schweitzer in 2012 to get Huckabee out of office. The 2016 election put a celebrity in the White House alongside President Gore's estranged ex-husband. Al Gore had gone on a journey of his own to environmentalism. As for the new President, he soon revealed his own enjoyment of DnD and established a Commission to roll back the draconian censorship laws that had weighed on people's minds for over a decade.

 

[Walpurgisnacht]

Right, entries are now closed, a little later than they should have been. (Shabbat shalom.)

The poll is now up! Vote early, vote often!

 

[Talwar]

I dunno, a world without D&D seems pretty horrific to me.

 

[Walpurgisnacht]

Last day of voting coming up!

 

[Talwar]

Congrats on a hard-fought draw, @Lilitou and @Walpurgisnacht