Bitterness Left Behind

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Not Too Old After All

Church President Becomes Jewish

Everybody Knows

Chick Chat

Weekend at the Valley

Wild Card

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Phat Tat

Utah or Bust


The Overtake of Planet Vote

by tommy kirchhoff

Not knowing how things end is a common neurosis among Utah folk. While the residents of Park City were mostly monosyllabic, they somehow knew what was going to happen.

You see, it all started at a time when Planet Vote was uninhabited. A small but hearty cocoon of migrant Gopmos dropped unexpectedly into a protected dale. There, the fruits of life were plentiful. The swath of Gopmos procreated and evolved into a nesting, predatory species, much akin to insects.

The Gopmos’ Nest began to grow rapidly through tight-knit networking, and by its vulgarly excessive reproduction. The swarm was kept well-fed with the capture and consumption of nomadic rogues. But one day, an alien species had the speed to escape apprehension. It returned home to relay the message of this bountiful new world. Soon, more of these aliens were dropping into the dale to prospect its fertility. One particular set decided the plateau above the dale was highly desirable for living—especially given its suitably frigid temperatures and delicious beer.

The predatory Gopmos grew larger and larger. With its increased appetite, the Nest no longer found satisfaction in the consumption of rogue migrants, and paused hungrily with greed. The Nest’s council of lords gave orders to execute a scheme for seizing larger prey. The dutiful worker-drones crafted a much larger trap, and baited it heavily with money and scholarships and wonderful vacations.

Soon after the trap was prepared, a giant traveling Ioc was drawn not only to the free shit, but the icy temperatures on the plateau. When it became ensnared, the council regrouped. Without knowledge of how much larger a prey they could get, they resolved to dangle the Ioc as bait to net an even larger prize.

Thousands of rogue migrants were drawn to the bait. While the Gopmos’ Nest waited patiently for the bigger fish, it regarded all the inbound traffic as insignificant. Many of these small nomads were related to the much larger Ioc, and built small colonies of their own adjacent to the cold climates.

The predatory Gopmos surveyed the sky in gluttonous hunger. Free of their attention, the eclectic new residents began to cooperate, and composed themselves as the Nomos. The Nomos were not entirely happy with the predators’ government of such things as the consumption and advertising of delicious beer. They worked together to cut away at the roots of the Gopmos’ Nest. This exposed the Gopmos’ vulnerable young, and weakened the network of the swarm.

In a single, massive vote, the cooperating Nomos darkhorses dashed the core of the Nest, severing it from its stronghold on the land, and sent it hurling into the wicked depths of Nevada.

OK, I lied. The Park City residents weren’t exactly monosyllabic. They drank beer, and made art—and that has made all the difference.