The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

nitrous stone

with 2 comments

Someday, I’ll have an army of atomic supermen.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Mad scientist, that’s what I aspired to become when I grew up. What kind of dweeb roots for the hero when someone as cool as Doctor Doom is doing his thing. Imagine my disappointment upon discovering, at the age of 9, that any kind of scientist needs to be fairly adept at mathematics – a subject which I have little more capacity with than a particularly slow witted goat does. Oh, the horrors and monstrosities which I could populate our world with if only I wasn’t arithmetically challenged. I’d have the whole chemical rack setup, with machines that spewed bolts of electricity and made humming sounds. One thing I am really good at is megalomaniacal laughing, it should be mentioned.

One has realized that he will need a staff of mathematically competent scientists, outfitted with heart plugs or neck bombs to ensure their absolute loyalty and obedience (of course), if my dream of creating my own race of Atomic Supermen is ever to be realized. Funding remains an issue, as I’d first need to purchase a lair of some kind, and neither minion controlling heart plugs nor neck bombs are cheap to buy or install. Then you have to light and heat the lair, worry about OSHA regulations… nothing’s easy.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

If you really want to hide a less than legal operation, like a Mad Scientist’s lair or a meth lab or something, I’ve always believed you should keep it moving. Sure, hollowing out a chamber in the heart of a volcano or establishing an underwater base sounds cool, but now there’s a static target for the legions of do gooders to target. Just a matter of time before some lantern jawed hero shows up and foils your plans.

Hide in plain sight, I always say. Disguise your mobile laboratory as a City bus or a panel truck and hire some clueless schmuck to drive you around day and night. The citizenry is too busy staring into those little glass rectangles all the time to notice anything that doesn’t have a thousand “likes.” The mutant army I’m planning on producing – I call this “Plan Nine,” incidentally – will take advantage of the abundance of cemeteries along the Brooklyn/Queens border for biological components. Amazon has a sale right now on mind control chips, so that’s a saving. They won’t sell me the radioactive isotopes I need, so thanks Chuck Schumer, for making me download TOR and get supplied via the highly unreliable “dark web.” So frustrating when you order Cesium and get Palladium instead.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

One of the big traps that most mad scientists find themselves in is that inevitable moment when your creation turns on you. To avert this, I’m going to install a video board into each member of my army, which will manufacturing bitcoin. This will fund a nice retirement pension for them, after the new order has been established, and I alone will hold the cypher password. You want loyalty from your thralls? Pensions, that’s how you get and demand loyalty from your minions.

I’m stuck at the moment whether or not my army of Atomic Supermen will have a gun hand or a crab claw hand, or both. Either option has benefits. I’ve settled on triocular vision for them, just like the engineers at Apple have with the latest iPhone.

I’ll be in one of my lairs this weekend, working on generalized revenge against a world which does not appreciate me, and has forced me to live the life of an outcast. Home? I have no home, the jungle is my home. If some bus or a large truck passes you by, and you hear maniacal laughing emanating from within, that’s me, but don’t put it on Instagram or anything. Last thing I need is to have to deal with some secret agent or something. Remember whose side you want to be on after the Plan Nine plays out to the end and the new order is instituted.


“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle


Buy a book!

In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.

Written by Mitch Waxman

September 20, 2019 at 1:00 pm

2 Responses

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  1. Because all you earth are idiots!
    With your ancient, juvenile minds you have developed explosives too fast for your minds to conceive what you are doing. You are on the verge of destroying the entire universe!

    So, need isotope sources? Well why didn’t ya just ask ya putz!

    http://unitednuclear.com/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=2_5

    10 uCi good? Just make sure to put shims between the beryllium shells over the demon core before using a screwdriver to futz around with the shell’s clearance.

    Other items: With the nutty ideas from out of low orbit you concoct, you’ve got the outer space thing already covered so you need Tor Johnson, unavailable at this time, Vampira, can be replaced with the better endowed Elvira Mistress of the Dark. Good luck.

    And one other thing, please do not attempt to dress up in drag like Ed Wood. Seriously dude, you’re not cut out for it, there ain’t enough eye bleach on the planet, and you’re sure to set back the LGBTQWERTYUIOP movement back about 100 years if you try.

    And one last thing, ask the caretakers permission before you go in the sepulcher for other materials. The Evil Black Raven does not like trespassers.

    Donald Cavaioli

    Cav

    September 20, 2019 at 5:13 pm

  2. Nice to see you riding on a bus and not the subway for once.

    georgetheatheist . . . leave the driving to us

    September 20, 2019 at 11:49 pm


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