Monday, April 20, 2020

This One is for those Who Suffer


The Bee Killer
Different day—Same oven. Scorching heat, Kabul style. The sun, a blood splat, rose. Soldiers repositioned in disappearing shadows. Night-vision goggles had transformed them into patriotic vampires in the service of Uncle Sam. The enemy couldn’t shoot what they couldn’t see. Great plan until the ride no-showed. Three of the soldiers wore scars from Muslim bullets. Seven had pulled messed up bodies to choppers. Nick and Butternut were newbies. They still thought death came for others. Drill Sergeant told ‘em to use their training to stay alive. It was the unexpected stuff scared Nick the most. He worked himself up from a crouch and unzipped. Everyone heard him splashing the dust into a mud-puddle.
O’Connor thought, Wet pants and livin’ beat dry pants and dyin’.
“Jeez … can’t believe I hada take a leak.”
“Don’t worry about it; first time oudda the wire. Piss in the moonlight; shoot in the sunlight. You gotta get your blood type marked on your boots. Then let’s make sure you got a dog tag around the neck and one on the boot. Little things keep your ass unrefrigerated.”
O’Connor liked the kid. He was older than O’Connor but he’d be a kid—Nicky-New-Guy—until he was baptized with bad intentions. War gore splattered on the ol’ face usually did the trick: urban renewal for the soul. No room for kindness.
The pick-up point was half a block north. Plan called for a ride back to chow and shut-eye. If no ride showed before the darkness vanished, it could get bad. He glanced at the other eleven infidels muttering—“fuck”.
Sarge was thinking. Mission had required one bomb-maker to be put out of business, and Military Intelligence fingered the Islamic rat and the hole he called home. Things had gotten nasty when they kicked a door and found no rodent, just women undressed enough to really piss-off the homeowner. The soldiers had bolted for their ride with the gentleman shaking his fist at them; Muslims killed male eyes peeking at their women. O’Connor squeezed his ankle. He figured a medic could take his pulse through his boot. Kabul doors usually gave before bone; but not this time.
“Yo Connor. My man. That some kick. You A-okay in my book dog.”
Tee Pee stared through O’Connor.  Shee’it … that low life A-rab didn’t know shit from Allah for a sec,” Tee Pee chuckled. “All I’m a-sayin’ is ya did good.”
O’Connor put weight on his foot. Pain put the brakes on talking. “Damn ride would be nice. This leg killin’ me.”
“Ah hell … you see that Mu-se-lum? He hada look o’ pure surprise under that beard. Yessirree.” Tee Pee started singing, “Been in the desert ona camel got no name, it felt good to be—” A voice groaned for Tee Pee to shut it.
Pain pulled O’Connor’s mouth into a tight line. “Jesus … we should write them words down. Sing your way onto American Idol. You gonna remember me, pal … when you’re one of those people?”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Connor. I ain’t never forgettin’ yo’ white ass. I’m a feelin’ it in my bones though. Damn too quiet for my taste. Natives fixin’ to make things interestin’.” He looked at the windows. “You kick the doh good though … You know how it is … can’t give the infidels wood. Hell, I’m not so sure I could get mine up with a crane. This place just takes it out of ya. Now they riled some to the point I could hear a spider choken’ ona sand flea a mile ‘way. Ain’t supposed to be this quiet atall—”

Saturday, April 18, 2020

Yes but of course . . .

history is all we got to go by and  history never recorded an economy ever beating a pandemic.

Thursday, April 16, 2020

Hanging On

I get it. We're all hanging on here for as long as possible. We are determined to beat the Covid-19. What I don't get is why we are so afraid to go. Aren't we headed to a better place? 

Monday, April 13, 2020

Nice World

Ever notice nothing makes a person more likable than to put 'em in a coffin? Boy, like it or not, this world is going to be a whole lot nicer shortly.

Friday, April 10, 2020

Hope versus Reality

As a writer I've had the opportunity to get to know many fine folks. One of them who lives outside Wuhan was not impressed with the light show and reopening of the city where it all started. I was told that people in Wuhan live in massive buildings and have their temperatures checked when they leave or return to their homes. If they have a temperature they disappear. The perimeter of the city is patrolled. The community had one million cell phones go black. Apparently China could've been made aware of the coronavirus back towards November. Man . . . do the math, this doesn't bode will for the World. Please remember these are the opinions of one person who lives near Wuhan.

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Rhetorically Speaking if

nations around the world held standardized tests to rank smarts would the United States be an odds on favorite to not make the top ten?

Monday, April 6, 2020

Money can't buy . . .

happiness but it can provide some distance in these troubling times. I see the wealthy are fleeing New York for the Gold Coast. Chicago and Milwaukee folks are heading to cabins in northern Wisconsin. I guess the buck stops here. Northern Wisconsin doesn't want virus infested people heading in their direction. Time for a massive property tax rebate? I mean roadblocks are being set up to keep seasonal folks out of their digs.

Saturday, April 4, 2020

A Writers Angle

"If you know somebody is going to be awfully annoyed by something you write, that's obviously very satisfying. And if they howl with rage or cry, that's honey."

Friday, April 3, 2020

Up for Eight Awards

The Last Gargoyle is up for eight awards. Great read if you're into short stories that are jolting and pack a punch. Reviewers thoughts and words . . . not mine. Enjoy and be safe out there.

Sunday, March 29, 2020

Virus & Reading

This just in . . . 'The Virus' has been linked to an increase in reading for non-essential folks!

Thursday, March 26, 2020

What have I Learned after Writing my Stories?

I was asked this by an individual who has worked tirelessly to put together a book signing. Many thanks go out to you Margo. Here goes my answer . . .

What sets the human animal apart from others is not just what we do to others, but how really hard we strive to justify it.

Think about it, this is a recurring theme to all my work.


Sunday, March 22, 2020

Social Distancing

Usually pointed toward Nebraska this time of the year but being Grounded is what ya make of it. Spotted swans, an eagle and a couple of cranes.


Saturday, March 21, 2020

Oh Them Words

Do you see it? Kinda funny in this time of trouble . . . 

Not only is it not funny, the Justice Department has ordered U.S. attorneys to appoint specials coronavirus fraud coordinators. The department also rolled out a central fraud hotline (1-866-720-5721 or disaster@leo.gov) to report consumer abuses.

Friday, March 20, 2020

FBI Got it Wrong

FBI stats identified Birmingham and St Louis as having the most Criminal Activity. Wrong. Washington DC harbors more criminals than the both of them put together. Hard to believe? Checkout Senator Loeffler as just one example.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Trump Pence

Is it wise to for the President and his second in line, to hang out together, during an infectious scare?


Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Do Your Part

Help a neighbor. Go shopping for someone. Babysit. In my case I donated blood today. The American Red Cross is in it to win it. Peace.

Monday, March 16, 2020

Canceled for Good Reason

Received word that as of today 'The Criminology Meet and Greet' has been called off. For good reason I might add. I thank the University of Montana. I have to think my flight will be grounded anyways, though I haven't heard anything yet. 

Saturday, March 14, 2020

The Last Gargoyle - Installment 4


   The vodka erased the pounding in my temples and cleared things up a bit. Nothing improved after that first encounter. Gary had gained a friend while I obsessed with evening the score; how does one live with the fact an ignoramus got the better of him? 

    Week after week I’d be confronted with all things Gary. I mean the tard couldn’t let it be. Last thing on my mind would be good old Gary and then he’d get to following me around telling everyone we were buddies. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed or pissed but the heat would roll off my forehead. There was no shaking Gary so the best I could do is hide behind a wall of laughter. Problem was, the more I laughed the more I hated myself. I knew I was nothing but a limp dick. News would be on in the cafeteria and I’d watch it downing a sub sandwich. Seemed like about every day there’d be a story about a shooting somewhere; left me wondering why Gary couldn’t be on the wrong end of a gun. Put him out of his misery and help me some with my state of mind. If I didn’t have vodka, I’m serious here, I’d’ve never made it.

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