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Stats & Data

October 12, 2009


Nightmare off Elm St.[1]

Jim McPartland



I believe God answers prayers.

Not at the speed of high speed internet- and certainly not in the time frame that I hope for (I.E., pushing me to the brink of bridge jumping/running with {or without} scissors on I-95 in rush hour traffic), but He does.


Sometimes I think that’s why He created Therapists and Lexipro (your job here is to figure out which I use and which now I can’t afford {hint- neither[2]}).


On 9/9, I got a job with the US Census in a management role starting in October. I’d been working on it since May.


To get a job, I had to play every card right. And pray.


“God, look- I know I ask for a bunch of stuff, both for me and everyone else. And I know You’re busy trying to figure out how Your divine plan has gone off on such an aschewed tangent. But, seriously, Ya gotta cut me some slack on this one. You haven’t done a whole lot of mountain moving with my petty requests lately. Actually in such a long time I’m wondering if You have a “Gone fishin’” sign on your chair. Can Ya help a brother out?”


Saying financially I’ve been ‘under the gun’ makes me want to even more strongly oppose the right to bear arms.

And lead to-

The dream.

I was somewhere in the woods, unfamiliar at best. I was by some trees when I looked up and saw someone hanging. It was dark and I couldn’t quite make out what was going on. I remember gazing up, albeit briefly, for fear of seeing a purple face and thinking “This is not good- I need to get some help”.

I started to run to alert police when, BAM, I heard the noose break and the guy fall from above me.

He landed on me.

With a thud.

I woke up, like I’d been hit with a bat. I was out of breath.

That was at 12:30 A.M. on 9/22.

I couldn’t go back to sleep and decided to FOD instead.


It wasn’t until the next day, 9/23, while at the gym at 7 A.M. I saw the first report via scrawl on ABC-


“Census Worker Found Hung in Kentucky”


I hadn’t had the TV on the prior night. There was no way in holy-fucking-hell subconsciously I could have known this.


I’m not clairvoyant. Stooges like John Edwards make me laugh with their ‘guessing games’.

JE- “Do you know someone whose name starts with ‘L’? Maybe ‘Lou’?”

Studio Woman Plant- “No”

JE- “Wait, how about--Lou--Loser?”

Studio Woman looks like God struck lightening.


The skinny on reality-

Census worker Bill Sparkman’s body had been found 9/12 in a cemetery.

It was reported to the public early 9/23.

Why it took 11 days for authorities to report it is beyond me.

Wait- it’s Clay County, Ky.

Big Creek, to be exact.

Here’s a map -


To find the one school, just follow the path at the end of Big Creek Rd. Hang a left by the outhouse. Continue until you see the Confederate flag and bones of the uppity n*ggers hung in ’62.”


It’s by the Daniel Boone Forest, quite the place to get lost should you choose to.


Some demographics (provided by the US Census[3])

There are 1500 residents, 1493 White, 7 Hispanics. No blacks.

60% did not get a H.S. diploma (39% are 8th grade and below).

The median income is $18,500.

I could you on, but you get the picture.

Real life Deliverance. Straight family trees. In bred IQ’s of 14.

But whizzes at tying knots.


Poor Bill was found with duct tape on his mouth, wrists and ankles. He was naked except for socks. The words ‘FEDS’ scrawled on his chest.

The US Census actually has a term”Dangerous Settlement” for Militia groups. Big Love without the love and Clloe Sevigny. But lots of missing teeth.

Enumerators are not to go there, so my guess is they tracked Bill down or saw him walking with his census ID in full view.

In an effort to be fair, I called Chief Jeff Calhoun of the Manchester County Police Department, which also covers Clay County. It’s around 40 miles from Big Creek. It was like calling Mayberry RFD. How Barney Fife can handle things from that distance is questionable. Actually, it makes total sense- they just don’t. Needless to say, Andy Taylor didn’t call me back. I don’t think their wind up phones work well with wireless.

When I heard Jeff’s heavy southern drawl, I started to think not only does he must know the responsible hillbillies- his brother is probably one of them. So instead of trying to track them down, he waits for 10 days to tell the FBI, giving them a nice head start deeper into the woods. They know that finding them there is akin to Bin Laden in his hills.


I don’t think I’m going to have this problem. We don’t have that many forests in CT and, although I have occasionally seen some KKK lit, I don’t think we have any ‘dangerous settlements’. And I know, generally speaking, we don’t fuck relatives and procreate demented children.


Still, I’m staying away from rope for a while. And probably anyone in a F150 with a ‘Live Free or Die” sticker until we finish counting.

Editor's note- It is being reported today 'authorities' believe he hung himself-

Here's the story--

If  you're telling me the local Hillbilly authorities can do the work of the FBI, I ain't buying it. I still think it's their relatives or close 'radical' friends.

Whre's Dr, Henry Lee when you need him?  Or is he too busy dispelling OJ's "If I Did It" memiors?





[1] I live off Elm St.

[2] That’s a lie. I just can’t afford to refill the Lexipro script.

[3] Results from Census Enumerators who somehow survived asking the question.