Happy Birthday!!

Chinese Philosopher Lao Tzu said: "Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love."

Today is the birthday of one of the most confident, profound, and loving people I know, if measured by the above parameters.  In my experience, she is the embodiment of kindness in living, consistantly more concerned with others than herself, yet always seems grateful for the things that she has. 

She has given me beautiful art, birthday meatloafs, and is always ready to lend a hand with anything.  Most of all though, she has been kind enough to share with me her daughter and her family, welcoming me as if I had always been a part of it.

Today, all I can say is: thank you, Sandi.

Check out her blog at Sandipaints, and you'll soon see what I mean.

Scalia, the 2nd Amendment and Dead Babies.

By now, most everyone is probably familiar with the Newtown CT shooting that took place Friday morning.  While details will still come to light, initial reports are that there are around 27 people dead, 20 of whom are children.  The reports also indicate that up to 4 weapons were involved, including 2 relatively powerful handguns, and a "Bushmaster" assault rifle. 

There have been and will be outpourings of grief, anger, and, incredibly, disbelief.  The two words used in almost all the coverage to date are "unimaginable" and "unthinkable."  While these sentiments are perhaps understandable, they aren't quite accurate.  It is all too thinkable and imaginable in a society in which there are approximately 80 guns for every 100 citizens.

The National Rifle Association and its "gun lobby" barely need to spend money anymore to pass their agendas.  Politicians in this country are so afraid of "blow back" from the supporters of this organization that reasonable dialogue can no longer be had on this issue.

The case in point is the past presidential election.  While the Democrats and the Obama administration have done nothing to restrict the ownership of guns, and in fact, have presided over a repeal on the Federal assault weapon ban, much anti-Obama sentiment focused on his "plan to take our guns." The Saturday Night Live skit aired during the election hit the nail in both parties' planks when it had the candidates respond to a question about what they would do about gun control: "Nothing," and "I will also do nothing," respectively.

Long-term studies in Australia and Austria have shown marked decreases in gun violence in those societies after the implementation of strict gun control.  Law enforcement organizations have repeatedly come out in favor of stricter gun control laws.

And yet, the gun lobby continues to push laws that would allow employees to bring guns to the workplace (and leave them in their cars,) for the reason that "they have a commute and may need to protect themselves."  Really.  Just in case you need to fire a warning shot across the bow of that Prius that looks like it might cut you off.  They have been responsible for the expansion of the "Castle Doctrine" which originally allowed deadly force to be used in one's own home, if one's life were under "imminent threat."  Now, more than 20 states have either passed or are considering legislation similar to Florida's "Stand Your Ground Law," which allows one to use deadly force without having to attempt to avoid it first.  This is the law often cited in the Treyvon Martin case. 

As a fairly staunch supporter of the Bill of Rights, and being generally in favor of an expansive reading of them, I have personally wavered on the issue of gun control.  However, as evidence continues to pile up for the seemingly obvious proposition that the more guns there are, the more people get shot, I've done some deep thinking on the issue. 

Justice Antonin Scalia, a strict constructionist, said recently that courts should look to the words themselves and their meanings when written when interpreting the Constitution.  Well, the 2nd Amendment reads:

"A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed."

It is the only one of the ten amendments that make up the Bill Of Rights that mentions regulation.  The first Amendment, in contrast, states that "Congress shall make no law" abridging the freedoms of speech, press and assembly.   The 5th Amendment provides, in pertinent part, that "no person shall be held to answer..." for various crimes "without due process of law."  No mention of regulation, these are, in the language of the constitution, more or less "absolute rights."  And yet, our courts have continuously found that there are limits to these rights when it is necessary for the good of society. 

Still, the Gun Lobby screams about the 2nd Amendment rights of its members and individuals cry that the government can have their guns when they "pry them from our cold dead hands."  It seems to me, that if we take Justice Scalia's comment to heart, we should look at the words "Well-regulated," as contained in the 2nd Amendment.  The situation concerning firearms is the farthest thing from well-regulated.  It seems to me that if Congress wished, it could regulate  that firearms only be held by those who belong to a government-sanctioned military organization.  I don't know that such an extreme measure would be wise policy, but it would behoove our nation to look to Europe and Scandinavia for the type of regulation that tends to suppress firearms violence. 

These questions should not be raised only when terrible mass tragedies strike, as such are still relatively rare.  It is the everyday shootings, accidental and intentional, that kill and maim hundreds every week, and that do not get more than a 2 minute mention on television, or a short column in the paper.  It is these victims, young and old, that should be pressing a real discussion of gun control in this country, not knee jerk "pry it from my cold dead hands" rhetoric. If we could do that, perhaps crimes such as this, while not disappearing completely, may actually become "unthinkable." 

The following is a response to a prompt over at Wattpad.


Using less that 400 words describe the setting in this photograph:

As the angle of the sun in the sky diminished, the blinding brilliance of the light reflected off the snow faded enough that he could see more clearly. It also meant that the scant warmth daylight had provided would be fading as well, replaced by a cutting wind as darkness fell. He zipped his parka to the neck and listened intently for a moment, bathed in the silence unique to the muffling effects of snow on sound. As the man peered from his vantage point in the copse of evergreen trees, he noted that the tracks he was following had been made either while the snow was still falling, or before new fresh flurries had partially filled them. The lack of white residue clinging to most of the visible tree branches confirmed his fear that he was at least a day behind. This was middle-aged ground covering, lacking the fresh smell of a new fall, but it had not yet been transformed to the mostly grey sludge that would invariably follow the human activity within his present suburban surroundings.

He carefully picked up his left foot and shook it, attempting to rid his toes of the numbness brought on by the liquid cold that managed to seep in even through his boots. Repeating the action with his right, he winced at the prickly pain that invaded his lower extremities as sensation returned momentarily due to the increased blood flow.
 
So, he was left with two potential courses of action: follow the tracks and hope to pick them up again on the other side of the street, or return to the dry warmth of his study and find some other way. It seemed an easy decision. His gaunt figure slowly dissolved back into the grey of the lengthening shadows, until there remained nothing except the faint rustle of branches stirred by the strengthening breeze.

Bill O'Reilly's Biggest Nightmare

Bill O'Reilly's biggest nightmare is coming true.  He said as much last night on Fox News:

"The white establishment is now the minority. And the voters, many of them, feel that the economic system is stacked against them and they want stuff. You are going to see a tremendous Hispanic vote for President Obama. Overwhelming black vote for President Obama. And women will probably break President Obama's way. People feel that they are entitled to things and which candidate, between the two, is going to give them things? ...
"The demographics are changing," he said. "It's not a traditional America anymore."

The Pew Research Center breakdown for the demographics in the U.S. by 2050 is 47% "White," "29%" Hispanic," 13% "Black,"  and 9% "Asian."   Women already outnumber men in the general population by about 2 percentage points.  For once, Bill O'Reilly is right.  The demographics are changing, and the question is, what lessons will the Republican Party take from O'Reilly's observations?

Leaving aside the vaguely racist undertones of O'Reilly's statement, there's some wisdom there for the GOP.  That the economic system is stacked against these minority voters (and women), is what many in the "progressive" wing of the Democratic party have been saying for decades.  Many of these voters tend toward the middle and lower rungs of the economic spectrum.  That wealthier people benefit more from laissez-faire economic policies than the less-well off is an idea that seems to mystify no one except the leadership of the Republican Party, and their "tea-party" mouthpieces and supporters. 

This election was not about abortion, or foreign policy, or Sandy, or even really heath care or the deficit. It was about policies of voter-suppression and the continued marginalization of the economic underclass.  Poll after poll suggest that women are generally as likely to hold pro-life positions as men. What the polling does suggest, is that women disproportionately oppose foreign military intervention, and worry more about loss of funding for social programs, such as food stamps and medicaid.  These are also issues which concern people of middle and lower incomes. 

The GOP could, perhaps, come up with policies to address these problems.  There may be solutions that fit the "free-market" approach the Republican Party likes to claim as its own. There are no doubt very capable, intelligent people in the GOP, and they may be able to sell these solutions to 21st Century Americans.  But as long as conservatives are stuck in the endless droning on about "lower taxes," and trapped in the Reaganesque time warp of the "supply side," and "running government like a business," they will continue to fail with these new demographic realities.  People who live paycheck to paycheck, or have to rely on food stamps to feed their families don't benefit from lower income taxes.  Their investment portfolios don't see dramatic gains from cutting the capital gains rate.  Their children don't become wealthier by doing away with estate taxes. 

The Great American Myth of the "self-made man" is starting to crumble.  Ever since human beings banded together and formed civil societies, there has been no such thing.   We are all interdependent upon each other and, in turn, on the society in which we live.  Every individual success story is really a testament to the collective effort of human beings to create the circumstances in which that success occurs.  Unless we are willing to all go back to being subsistence farmers, that will continue to be the case.

Many of us whom demographers classify as "white," have swallowed the Myth for generations, even in lower economic classes, because we've been inculcated with it by our schools, our parents and our leaders.  There are new generations coming, however, whose parents have seen the reality that unfettered corporate autonomy and "every man for himself" economic policies create.  Every society eventually has to face the realities of the inequalities of the distribution of wealth, and how that society deals with the problem generally defines whether that society thrives or declines. 

The Republican Party can be a part of the solution.  The best ideas come about after debating the relative merits of differing viewpoints.  But clinging to outmoded policies that benefit only a very few, is a recipe for disaster, not only for that political party, but for any nation foolish enough to embrace them. 

I invite Republicans to listen to Bill O'Reilly's observations, then ditch him, and others like him who long for a "Traditional America" that doesn't exist and never did.  People don't just "feel" entitled to things; they are entitled to a government that doesn't treat them like employees, but like partners, a government that recognizes that there are no "traditional" Americans, only people now living in American society and trying to make it work for them. 

If they don't, they may be in for more disappointment, as the country moves on without them.    

Zombie Zoo

Trifecta's weekend prompt is inspired by Zora Neal Hurston's encounter with an alleged Zombie in Haiti.  They are asking for "thirty three words that are somehow related to Hurston's zombie sighting." Here's the Photo:

Here's the challenge answer:

Eight o’clock.  Shadowed forms stagger in a macabre dance accompanied by an electronic hum.   Stiffly, they hunker down, wide-eyed, staring, bathed in the bluish glow of the cathode ray.  It eats their brains.

A Sinister Reality

Trifecta's weekly prompt this week is to do 33-333 words using the third definition of "Sinister," which is given as:

"3: singularly evil or productive of evil"

And... we're off:

“Hello!  I’m Wink Barkercrest,  welcoming you back to ‘America’s Next Top Serial Killer.’ Recapping last week, we saw two contestants go down, as they just didn’t meet your high standards of macabre mayhem.  So, we said goodbye to ‘Hacksaw’ Hank Hannigan and Marie Guadolo, AKA ‘The Angel of Death.’” 

“That leaves us with three finalists for the interview round.  Please give a warm welcome to ‘The Sheboygan Slasher,’ Sergei ‘Bullseye’  Wackoffski , and… Eugene.”

“OK, first up, ‘The Sheboygan Slasher.’  Sir, can I call you ‘slash?’  

“No.”

“All right… can you tell me your real name?”

“No.”

“Mr. Slasher  it is, then.  Tell America: what compels you to kill?”

“My goldfish, Aristotle.  He tells me who he wants for dinner, then I capture and filet that person.”

“Wow, sounds grisly!  Any idea who might be next?”

“Well, Aristotle’s been on a T.V. Personality kick recently…”

“O.K!  We’ll move on to contestant number two.  Mr. Wackoffski…”

“Please, call me Sergei, my last name does not translate well from Cyrillic.”

“I’ll say.  Now, Sergei, how do you keep track of how many people you have ‘offed?’”

“Say hello to my little friend… In this digital tablet, I have stored the particulars of all my contracts.”

“Hmmmm.  Bet Interpol would love to get their hands on that!”

“Absolutely.  That is why I would blow up this building rather than be taken alive.”

“Right!  Now, on to contestant three. It says here you go by “Eugene.”  Is that it?"

“That’s right; just Eugene.  I think it sounds more sinister that way, don’t you?” 

“Uh-huh.  So, Eugene, what do you do for a living?” 

“I’m a political consultant.  I recruit people for focus groups, lock them in a room and show them many political campaign commercials to gauge their reactions.”

“It’s a good thing we’re out of time, because I think I’m going to be sick. We’ll see you next time, and…Sergei, where are you going?”

“I am not sitting next to him.  He makes me feel dirty…”

"Wishing Well"

Trifecta's weekend prompt is inspired by W.W. Jacobs' classic short story "The Monkey's Paw." The challenge is to write "33 words exactly about three wishes that come at a high price to the wisher." 


Marty suddenly realized he should have specified he was speaking metaphorically when he wished to “rocket straight to the top,”  “burning brighter than a supernova,” having a golden parachute with “no strings attached.” 

The Problem With Twitter

I know that Twitter is "the best thing ever" right now, and I even see that it may be valuable in certain, fairly limited, circumstances.  But during the U.S. Presidential debate tonight, it struck me that the "Twitter phenomenon" may not necessarily be a positive development. 

It seems to me that it is another way to condition us to "sound byte" politics.  It is impossible, within the confines of Twitter, to make any kind of substantive argument for or against any policy or statement.  It may be fine for pithy observations, but it is completely useless for substantive discussion of issues as important as those involved in this Presidential Campaign. 

That, in and of itself, isn't a problem, except I worry that, as seems to be a trend in this country, people will begin to rely on services like Twitter for actual information, when it is not what they were designed to do. 

And that, as a continuing trend, is dangerous to our republic.

Apocalypse Now?

Well, back with a response to a Trifecta challenge.  This week it is 33-333 words using the 3rd definition of "Death," given as:

"The destroyer of life, usually pictured as a skeleton with a scythe."  Without further ado:

RRRrrrriiiiiiiiinnnngggg.

“Good afternoon, Four Horsemen P.A., this is Luci speaking, how may I help you?

Oh, hello sir. I’m fine; thank you for asking.  How are you? 

I’m sorry to hear that sir. War usually handles your account, doesn’t he?

No, I’m sorry, sir, he’s in meetings all day.  He really is swamped at the moment, what with the ‘War on Drugs,’ the ‘War on Poverty,’ the ‘War on Terror,’ the ‘War on Women …’ Not to mention all the real wars going on.  Could someone else help you?

No, unfortunately, Famine is out to lunch right now.

Let me check for you, sir…   Oh, that’s right, Pestilence called in sick; I’d forgotten.

 I’m afraid not sir. 

Yes, you see, Death has taken a holiday.  That does remind me though, I have to pick up his cloak from dry cleaning and get that scythe sharpened before he returns…

Well, sir, you could call our consultants, Cheney and Associates. 

No, I was not aware he was on a hunting trip.

I will most certainly pass on the message sir, and I’m sure someone will get back to you as soon as possible; after all, you are one of our best clients.

Thank you, you have a nice afternoon too, Mr. Rove."

Click.

An Open Letter to the Liberal Media

Dear Liberal Media,

Hi, how's it going?  I know you guys have been busy lately, what with undermining traditional American values, continuing your attempts to destroy marriage, the war on CHRISTmas, and all those meetings with the Illuminati elites to usher in The New World Order.  If you could land the black helicopters for just a minute, or at least set them to "hover" for a moment, I have a bone to pick with you.

See, it seems there was a U.S. Presidential debate on Wednesday evening, and I've been reading and listening all about it the past few days, and apparently, this guy Mitt Romney is pretty damn good.  It appears that he's like the best parts of JFK, Winston Churchill, Gandhi, and Jesus Christ all rolled into one adorable, well-coiffed package.  I mean, I'm thinking of voting for him, and I once voted for Ralph Nader.  (Don't ask, it's a long story.) 

I understand why the "Fair and Balanced" news outlets are talking him up; after all, he wants to make sure they can continue to make obscene amounts of money and listen in on everybody's conversations.  But I didn't realize you guys loved him too.  See, I watched the debate, (on tape delay, I admit,) and I'm a little confused.  I know Romney was all "mavericky" and had lots of cool quotes and anecdotes and everything, and good for him, because he seems like a nice enough guy, for a Mormon.  But it seems a little strange to me that all I've heard from you liberal media types for four days is how good he was and how bad the President was.

What I saw was one candidate who discussed issues and policies and made statements that included realistic assessments of the problems we face as a nation, and another who kept saying "taxes bad!" I'll let you guess who was whom.  It seems to me I've heard you guys complaining about style over substance before, and this might have been a good time to show that you care.  But when you keep repeating that the President was "distracted," and "uninspired," and "pedantic," it seems like you were only concerned with how the debate was presented, rather than what it was about.

Maybe you figure it doesn't matter.  Maybe you're right.  But I saw something to the effect that polls taken immediately after the debate showed about the same numbers as those taken before the debate; however, by Friday, after two days of endless hammering on by every news organization in the world about how badly the President "performed,"  they had swung toward Mr. Romney.  Let's face it, we Americans aren't the most politically sophisticated bunch around.   Many of us are more interested in who wins "Survivor" than a silly debate.  So we count on you to let us know who we should like.  Besides, 47% of us had to get up early to get in line for our welfare checks, so we couldn't watch it ourselves.

So my question is, as one Liberal to a Liberal Institution: "Why?"  Why would you talk endlessly about how much Mr. Romney won the debate by?  You know he's the anti-liberal here, right?  He wants to make the rich richer, and screw everybody else.  Are you scared that Bill O'Reilly might call you names?  That Rush Limbaugh might say you are biased?  (Hint: they are going to do that anyway.)  Is it because you are all owned by big corporations that stand to gain from Romney's pledge to lower the corporate tax rate?

Don't worry, Liberal Media; I still love you.  As long as you keep me updated on the latest dance craze from Korea, I'll be happy.  But you messed this one up.  Instead of commenting that perhaps we should look for a leader who sees that the country has problems, and that many of them are created by a terrible disparity in the distribution of wealth in our system, you focused on who seemed more "energetic."  Instead of pointing out that the most powerful country in the world might want a President who thinks a little, who has more knowledge about the world than the average person, you said that Obama "talked over people's heads."  Maybe what you fail to understand is that no matter what else happens, what you say tends to become the reality in people's minds. 

Next time, maybe you should challenge the narrow, conservative view of politics and economics. 

Unless, of course, you really aren't Liberal after all.

Carry on,

Eric Misener (President of the Kucinich 2016 fan club.)

P.S.  Could you guys be sure to get Todd Akin more coverage?  He's about the best advertisement we Liberals have...
   

It's Debatable

Though I've steered clear of Politics on this blog so far, it is meant to be a space for miscellaneous observations (hence the name), so I want to write briefly about last night's U.S. Presidential Debate. 

First, full disclosure: I am a registered Democrat and a supporter, in this election, of President Obama. So, you may count or discount my opinion as your partisanship moves you.

After finally seeing a good portion of the debate this morning, (I was otherwise engaged last evening), and reading and listening to the "analysis" of said debate, I have come to a conclusion: What is actually said by the candidates matters very little, excepting any "gotcha" gaffes such as Dan Quayle comparing himself to John Kennedy and opening himself up for Lloyd Bentsen's memorable rejoinder. (Speaking of which, if you're too young to have seen that moment, or saw it, but want a reminder of how a debater can make his point, and attack the opposition while maintaining a dignified, calm demeanor, go to youtube and search "Quayle-Bentsen.")

If one needs any evidence as to the fact that it is perception, rather than substance, that matters at these debates, one need only recall the actions of both campaigns in the past weeks leading up to last night's event.  Both camps went out of their way to paint the opposition as the more capable, more prepared debater.  The Obama campaign released statements with regard to the President having less time to prepare for the debate than his opponent, and how good Romney is at debating.  The Romney camp, on the other hand, made the point that the President is known as a good orator and that he would be a formidable opponent in a debate.  Though these practices may seem counter-intuitive, there is a good reason for them: to lower expectations, especially among the media.

To understand this, ask yourself who actually decides the "winner of a debate? (We'll leave aside for the moment the question of whether we should go about choosing a "winner" as if it was a sporting event.)  Generally it is the political analysts for the networks, newspapers and websites that make up the political media.  They all have their break-downs and post-mortems and bring in various experts to analyze the performance of both candidates.

"Performance" is exactly the correct word, too, because if you pay attention to the way the pundits talk about the debate, you will find that is what they are actually analyzing: how each candidate looked and sounded, rather than what was said.  Prior to the debate, each party wanted the expectations of the media to be as low as possible so that its candidate's "performance" would exceed those expectations by as wide a margin as possible. 

So, we now know that the consensus appears to be that Mitt Romney "won" the debate.  What reason is generally being given for this victory?  Romney appeared "relaxed," "confident," well-rehearsed,"  "aggressive," "polished."  Obama was "hesitant," "defensive," "reflective."  Romney's answers were "direct," "black-and-white."  Obama's were "winding," "provisional." 

I would argue there is a reason for this perception:  President Obama spoke a bit like one of my old law professors, while Mitt Romney's stock in trade were anecdotes and attempts to position himself to the Political Center; so much so that he ended up agreeing with Obama on several issues.

Let's take just the first 15 minute segment, ostensibly about "jobs."  The talk turned to taxes and the deficit almost immediately, with Obama stating that the deficit had to be reduced "responsibly" so that investment could be made in renewable energy, jobs programs and education.  He also called out Romney's proposal to cut taxes that would cost approximately $5 Trillion from the Federal treasury. 

Romney responded first by doing what he did all evening: trotting out anecdotes.  He "met a man who lost his job" and said "can you help me?"  His wife "met a woman" whose husband had had several part-time jobs and asked "can you help me?"  These are rhetorical ploys that mean absolutely nothing when it comes to public policy affecting the entire country.  (To be clear, the Democrats are guilty of using this tactic as well; Obama did not use it in this segment of the debate, however.) Romney also said he "had no $5 trillion tax cut," and that everything the president said in one of his answers was inaccurate.  Romney's own website states that his tax goals are to:

"Reduce individual marginal income tax rates across-the-board by 20 percent, whilekeeping current low tax rates on dividends and capital gains. Reduce the corporateincome tax rate – the highest in the world – to 25 percent."

The $5 Trillion dollar figure comes from a study done by the independent Tax Policy Center (which may be affiliated with the Brookings Institute), which showed the cuts Romney proposes to cost $360 Billion in the first year, which extrapolated to $5 Trillion over ten years. 

So, Obama should have been clearer in his representation of the tax cuts; and I really wish both sides, when citing "studies" would identify what studies they are talking about.  Romney at one point said, "I have six studies that say (the study referenced by Obama) is wrong."  Which ones? By what organizations?  Of course Obama didn't identify the study he cited, either.

According to the debate last night, Romney also wants to invest in energy and education, although it is unclear from where the funds to do this would come. 

One last thing I must point out about the debate has to do with health care.  Romney declared that "pre-existing conditions are covered under my plan."  This is a part of "Obamacare" that consistently polls favorably among voters.  Last night, a top Romney advisor  Eric Fehrnstrom restated what the Romney plan is with regard to pre-existing conditions.  Basically, he said Romney wants to ensure people who have no lapse in coverage continue to have coverage; which is exactly the way the system worked before Obamacare. Pre-existing conditions aren't "pre-existing" is there is no lapse in coverage.  With regard to people without insurance or with a 90-day lapse in coverage, Romney "hopes states will do what Massachusetts has done," which is ban pre-existing conditions.  So, Romney's plan is to "hope" states do what Obama's plan already does.

That's not the kind of "hope" I'm looking for, especially living in a state whose governor may have been involved in one of the biggest medicaid frauds ever perpetrated against the citizens of the United States.

 

Running out of...

Trifecta's weekend challenge is to describe something that is 3 things at the same time in 33 words.  Without further ado:

It is a destroyer of mountains, leveler of cities, burier of civilizations.

It is a creator of fine wines, cheeses and whiskeys.

It is a crawler, a flier, and a healer of wounds.

Rowan

The Trifecta challenge this week is to use the third definition of "Ample:"

"3: buxom, portly "

Normally I try to make the challenge word a more important part of the piece than it is below, but I had something else in mind this week.  Thanks for reading.

In 2006, the man moved to live a new life with his Muse.  The house and the new life came with some accoutrements: two cats, one lithe and lean, constantly prowling; one of more ample girth, gentle and soft as a rabbit;  and a big, slobbering, male German-Sheppard mutt named after a female character in an Ann Rice novel. 

The man had never thought he would have a dog, because he was allergic; but this one came with the new life, so he decided to make the best of it.  The dog had a funny smell, licked the man’s feet when he sat in the living room, and was deathly afraid of thunder and fireworks.

The man got used to taking the dog for walks in the neighborhood, and the dog got very excited when he knew it was time to go out, and whenever the man came home.  The man grumbled a bit when they first lost the “battle for the bed,” and the dog decided he would sleep with them every night, but he grew to enjoy the bulk and warmth he brought.  The daily Claritin and frequent hand-washing to ward off allergic reactions began to seem a small price to pay.

Six years on, the dog and the man were older, and both began to show it.  Their hair began to grey, and aches and pains became common.  The dog began to have trouble getting around.  Vet visits and medication started to be de rigueur.   There were some scares, but the dog kept on walking and greeting and eating, so the man hoped he would hang on.

Last night, the dog lay down in the living room, and couldn’t get up.  The man and his Muse eschewed the bed the three of them had shared, and slept on couches and chairs.  This morning, the man carried the dog into the vet’s office, and they said goodbye.

The dog’s name was Rowan; he was a good dog, and he was loved.

Triple Play

Trifecta's weekend challenge is to write 33 words utilizing our own interpretation of the lieterary "rule of three," which holds that elements grouped in threes have more impact than other numbered sets. My entry is below:


The three billy goats crossed the bridge, gruffly avoiding the trio of tailless mice scampering blindly toward the smell of porridge being consumed by an Ursine triumvirate alongside the old ballpark in Pittsburgh.

The picture.

Trifecta has a little different twist on their weekend prompt this week.  The idea is to take the 33 word passage provided and add another 33 words to move the story along.  Below is my take, with the prompted passage in italics:

The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.  Her fingers left streaks in the dust, revealing more of the image beneath. The older man and young girl stared back at her accusingly. The sound of breaking glass reverberated through the twilight.

Grin and bear it.

Another Trifecta weekend challenge.  This one asks us to "write a 33-word response using the name of an animal as a verb. "  I figured if one animal reference is good, then...

"Chickening out?" he crowed, standing high up on the ledge, cocking his head to the side.  

“Quit horsing around,” she scolded. “You’re bugging me.”

He grinned sheepishly, “I’m sorry,” he said, finally cowed.

"This is the end, beautiful friend, the end.."

After a week's hiatus, here's an entry for Trifecta's weekend challenge, which is:

"Last month we asked you to give us a killer opening line in exactly 33 words. This week we're asking for an equally amazing closing line. It can be the ending to the story you began in the previous challenge or a completely different ending altogether. Just make sure it's exactly 33 words."

So, here goes:

So this was it: The End.  No screaming, no chaos; nothing.  Just a soft hissing, like the air being let out of a balloon,  fading to a whisper, followed by an all-consuming silence.

Flight

Trifecta's weekly challenge is to use the word "flight," in its 3rd definition, in a 33 to 333 word story.  The 3rd definition is listed as:

"3a : a trip made by or in an airplane or spacecraft

b : a scheduled airplane trip"

“Alright, I’ve got a passenger Wyrm leaving in an hour with two vacant seats.  That’s the last flight out until tomorrow. “

The ticket agent looked around at the group standing before him.  The party was a bad cliché: there was Bronwyn, the Elven Ranger, standing straight with her long silver hair flowing over the bow strapped to her back; Stonebeard, the Dwarf, leaning on the hilt of his war hammer and smirking a crooked smile; Tabor, the barbarian, shirtless, with his huge two handed sword nestled in  a back scabbard; Maya, the female cleric, her green and white tunic covering the padded leather armor beneath, murmuring prayers to the mace she held gently in her hands; Fangolf, the old wizard with his long white beard and dark blue robe, the latter of which glowed dimly;  Kay’ferg, the Amazon, wearing a kind of chain-mail bikini thing that, while pleasant to look at, probably afforded little protection in battle; Rollo, the Halfling thief in his dark hooded cloak, nervously fingering the dagger stuck into his belt;  and finally, Sir Hogarth, the smug Paladin in his shining plate male and intricately painted kite shield.     

“But tomorrow’s too late!  The Dark Lord’s Army will be here by then!”   Rollo’s high pitched voice did nothing to alleviate the ticket agent’s building headache.

“Yes, well, I can put you on the standby list for tomorrow, but, of course, I can’t guarantee you won’t be seated next to an Orc. “ 

Sir Hogarth spoke: “But sir, surely you will not remain here as the Evil One overruns this town?  The forces of light are staging a strategic withdrawal whilst our mystics work on the Power Rune that will end in our inevitable triumph.  Once this place falls into shadow, your services will not be needed.“

“Are you kidding?  How do you think the Dark Lord transports and supplies his horde of horrors? Black magic can only handle so much.  Our logistical services here at Draken Air are first class!”

Rockin' Iguana

A response to Trifecta's weekend challenge, which is: "Tell us an original fable in exactly 33 words."

An iguana lay in the sun on a warm rock.  Bored, he spied a larger rock that got more direct sunlight.  A bored iguana lay in the sun on a large, hot rock.

The Great Whimper

Trifecta's weekend prompt this week is "... to give us a 33-word opening line to your book. That's it. Make us want to read the next 333 pages of your work."  Below is an opening line I always wanted to use:

The Universe ended on a Tuesday, which was confusing to Farley Trumatter, for the latest itinerary in his possession had the “Great Whimper” scheduled for Friday; obviously, he shouldn’t have missed that meeting.

Elementary

Entry for Trifecta's weekend challenge.  This week, they are paying homage to the forty-third anniversary of the first moon walk, and asking for exactly 33 words about someone who took a giant leap:

Dusty yard, hot afternoon.

Flies and cicadas buzzing, birds singing.

The dog lies in the dirt, head down,

tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Quickly, the brown fox jumps.

Lazy dog doesn’t move.

The Houseguest

An entry for Trifecta's weekend prompt, which is borrowed from Benjamin Franklin, who once said, "Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days."


The Houseguest

"It's so nice to have company around," she thought, "someone to talk to at the dinner table."

It had been so long since she had had anyone in the house.  Ever since her husband died, seven years ago now, mealtimes had been the hardest.  She always longed for those days when he would sit there, reading the paper and chewing his food, while she told him all about the latest happenings in neighborhood, and what the gossip was down at the hair salon.  Her husband hadn't been much of a talker, of course, but that had been alright; she had always been able to carry a conversation herself.  "A regular Chatty Kathy," her mother had always called her.  
    
So when Father McNulty had offered to come for supper Sunday evening, she had jumped at the chance.  She had prepared her best Chicken Parmesan, and opened a bottle of Italian wine she had been saving for just such an occasion.  She had been so excited when the good Father didn’t leave that night, but remained with her for a couple of days. 

But it always ended like this.  Ever since her husband passed, every guest she had wore out his welcome by the third day.  She sat at the table, looking at the priest across from her, the newspaper spread out in front of him, his face expressionless. 

"Yes, it's nice to have company," she thought, "but after three days, the stench is unbearable.  Maybe it's the arsenic..."

Life

Something a little different today.  A poem inspired by the pictoral prompt over at Magpie Tales.

Here's the Pic:

Chilmark Hay, 1951 by Thomas Hart Benton

Here's the poem:

Life 

In springtime I was born anew,

Young I was, and green.

But carefully tended that season through,

I matured, both strong and lean.

My golden head grew straight and tall

With every summer rain;

And I, the king of my furrowed hall,

Knew naught of want and pain.

But come the autumn, colored red and brown,

I began to feel my age;

And knew my fate was to be struck down,

No use was it to rage.

Gathered in, I was, then ground to dust,

My life had run its span.

A victim of time’s insatiable lust;

So goes both grain and man.

So, since my last entry to the Trifecta Writing Challenge was a bit of a downer, I thought I'd try my hand at something a little more upbeat.  You know, more in keeping with the spirit of the weekend's prompt:

The world will end in three days.

Thus, I give you the following 333 words:

“Good morning, and welcome to another installment of ‘Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition,’ your number one source for Christian inspiration and survivalist advice, broadcasting live here on KYWH, serving the greater Hell Gate, Montana area for over 30 years. I’m your host, Rev. Warren Pease, of the Isolationist Church of Christ, United. “

“My brothers and sisters, I have a serious topic to discuss with you today, so please, put down your auto-loaders, call the kids in from burying the land mines, and gather ‘round your radio. For I have had a vision from our Lord; a ‘revelation,’ if you will. Our heavenly father has imparted to me that the end is nigh! Indeed, in just three days, the righteous will be called home. So my question to you, my brothers and sisters, is: ‘Are you Rapture Ready?’”

“Now, some might ask: ‘Reverend War, what makes your prediction of the impending Rapture this time different than the ones in 1987, 1994, 2006, and last Tuesday?’ To them I say, ‘Ye of little faith, beholdest not the mote in thy brother’s eye, if your camel can not pass through the eye of a needle.’ Think about it, my brothers and sisters.”

“As the Almighty covenanted with Noah to never again destroy the Earth by water, he has devised an even more horrible fate, in His mercy. Yes, my friends, in 72 hours, every cell phone in the world will receive a call which will be a recorded message from Justin Bieber reading from the novel Twilight, that will be impossible to turn off. This will, it goes without saying, be the cause of destruction of civilization as we know it.”

“I am out of time for today, as are we all in three short days. Before I sign off, remember, like Jesus, you too can save at Big Sal’s Auto Emporium and Falafel Stand, a Hell Gate institution since 2011. ‘Till next time, keep your Bibles handy and your powder dry.”

Promise

 Yet another entry to Trifecta's writing challenge.  This week, it was to work in the third definition of "Fireworks:"

3. plural a: a display of temper or intense conflict b: a spectacular display "the fireworks of autumn leaves."

He was promised fireworks.  From the time he was young, he was told he could do anything; be anything.  He was led to believe that he would find something in his life, and that it would ignite his soul, light up his mind with brilliant flashes of insight, blooms of white-hot intensity that would burn out only as the next one exploded in a dazzling new design. 

Instead, he wandered listlessly from event to event, each one either fizzling in acrid smokiness, choking off further interest, or thudding to the ground, an inert mass of unexploded potential.  Oh, there were sparks, to be sure; small ones that held the promise of future spectacular displays of emotionally and intellectually satisfying pyrotechnics.  But each time, as he stood, waiting for the finale, his mind’s sky remained dark, void of the blasts of joy and fulfillment that seemed to light up others’ psyches. 

Eventually, he decided to stop expecting them, to keep his eyes focused on the ground immediately in front of him, to avoid stumbling over the flotsam life inevitably leaves in everyone’s path.  Every once in a while, though, he’d catch himself, head tilted back, scanning the darkness above for a glimmer of what he’d once thought was going to be his life’s illumination.

It was during one of these episodes, in the midst of a berating from his own ego for being so careless, that another thought occurred to him.  Maybe it wasn’t the components of the putative explosives that were to blame.  Conceivably, the external sources of his mental missiles were not the problem. In short,  perhaps the fault was not in the starbursts, but in himself.  

Below, find another entry for Trifecta.  This is for the third prompt this week:

"Write a 33-333 word response to the song featured below. There are no other requirements for this prompt. Just use the song to inspire a creative response."

“Randy, have you cleaned your room?”

“I’m getting to it mom!” Randy rolled his eyes at his little brother as they sorted baseball cards.

“You promised me yesterday you would have it cleaned by supper today!” Randy’s mother appeared in the doorway, dishcloth thrown stereotypically over her shoulder.

“I know mom, but I had that report on A Separate Peace  due today, and tomorrow I have to stay after school for Mr. Gordon’s extra credit fiber optics project for science class.”  Randy met his mother’s eyes with what he hoped was his most earnest stare. 

His mother sighed, ”All right, Randy, but by Friday evening, I want this place spotless.”

Randy nodded vigorously, “No problem, mom, Friday, definitely.” 

After his mom disappeared down the hall, Randy turned to his brother, “Want to go ride bikes?”

“How do you always get to do what you want?” his brother asked, admiration written on his smooth, round face.

“Easy, dude.  Just remember: tomorrow’s just an excuse away!”

Another entry...

This is another entry to a Trifecta prompt.  There are three this week. This is a response to the second one, which requires the use of the third definition of the following word:

Score

3a: an account or reckoning originally kept by making marks on a tally

  b: amount due : indebtedness

The marks on the wall told a story.  It was a dull story, but it was his story; at least, of his last five years.  It was a story of sunrises and sensets bracketing hours of mind-rending boredom punctuated by stark, raving terror.  

It was his own fault.  His own reckless stupidity.  A night of drinking, careless words, then the broken bottle and skull. 

He wondered what became of the girl he had fought over, as the sun dipped low and cast barred shadows on the opposite wall.  He sighed, his shoulders remaining slumped after the exhale.  It was no use pondering such things.  It was time to add to the lopsided score of man against time.  It was time to make another mark on the wall. 

First time: an entry.

So, the first post in what may be a somewhat ecclectic collection of writing is a writing challenge entry.  Thanks to Trifecta for creating these prompts.  This weekend challenge is thus:

"...we're asking you to retell your favorite book. In 33 words." 

Straight forward, no?  So here goes:

To be grounded, you must be crazy. To be crazy you must want to fly.  Catch-22 works because it doesn’t exist . The only way to survive is to be insane oneself.