Monday, September 25, 2017
Yes, clowns can be creepy. Still, the corruption of the nest where humans are hatched clips far more wings than childhood party favors gone bad. Barney was also kind of creepy. Yet, it was mostly neglect that pushed a generation to suckle icky purple milk from the saggy purple breast of a cheesy purple friend. What the hell am I saying? A mom and dad who love each other and devote themselves to their offspring is a rare and priceless gift.
What is the IT that cannot be named? While media terrify black folks with ghostly shrouded klansmen or toothless cackling nazis and NFL millionaires whine that racist cops are the blight across America's landscape, reliable statistics show the violent spawn of dysfunctional black families pillaging, raping, and murdering their black neighbors in epidemic proportions. Yet, it's not a black thing. From white Appalachian addicts to brown Mexican narcos, the spawn of hellacious homes terrorize us all, while countless shattered and scrambled families try desperately to give their children some semblance of the picket-fence paradise-lost dream of a happy nurturing home.
If you wanna change the world, shoulder the Herculean task of constructing a great marriage and family then shine that light to everyone else. Not man or woman enough? Then join us self-important multitaskers striving to fix the world while denying the real problem we have little solution for. We have met the enemy, and IT is us. I've now written my first horror lit. I give it an under-13-only rating, because children can relate to it instinctively, but I fear it may be too traumatizing for adults.
Thursday, September 7, 2017
Monday, July 31, 2017
Friday, July 7, 2017
Friday, June 30, 2017
Friday, June 16, 2017
Thursday, May 18, 2017
A crocodile thrashes beneath me. The squawking and dripping of the rainforest where Mel Gibson filmed Apocalypto and Sean Connery filmed Medicine Man surround three sides of my cozy wood cabin that overhangs a lily-choked shore and overlooks a mist-shrouded isle broadcasting monkey chatter across the glassy lake. It’s Christmas in the jungle. The lush fertility extends to a curvaceous young form peacefully dozing under the blanket beside me and deeply inhaling from the cool oxygenated air. I recall a perfect day.