Non-Application

Dear Frank:

You do realize that this ad is for a gas station cashier, don’t you? I mean, this is the sort of position that usually doesn’t require three graduate degrees and a personal letter of recommendation from the Pope. It’s essentially a ten or eleven dollar an hour job with bad hours in a crummy neighborhood. If you can find anyone interested in the position you should get their initials on the W2 form and send their name to the payroll department before they sober up. Let me spell that out to you again. Gas Station Cashier. Not. Head of Open Heart Surgery at Detroit Medical Center.

Gas Station Cashier. I think perhaps you need to scale down the requirements for this position. Anyone with experience of the job will most assuredly NOT want to apply. May I suggest the following demands you might reasonable make of applicants:

01] Must be breathing. This is an important point. That’s why it’s #1 on my list. The deceased need not apply.
02] Must shower semi-regularly. Also important, especially if you will have two or more employees working a single shift.
03] Must wear shoes. Boots are good also. And of course socks. You probably should mention those too.
04] Must speak a language (specific language optional).
05] Must have a good knowledge of U.S. currency and coinage and a working understanding of Arabic numerals.
06] Must be able to pick out GAS PUMP# from a touch screen by at least the fourth attempt.
07] Must agree to refrain from stealing from the register for at least their first three days on the job.
08] Must like the smell of gas, cigarettes, burnt coffee, stale donuts, and year old hotdogs.
09] Must be able to tell the difference between a 40oz bottle of Colt 45 and a four pack of Zima.
10] Must be able to say “Good Luck” after selling a roll of instant lottery tickets without adding “Sucker!” to the sentence.
11] Must agree to keep the REST ROOM OUT OF ORDER sign in clear view of customers at all times.
12] Must love people or least be able to tolerate their presence for twenty seconds without wanting to punch them in the face.
13] Must have full confidence in the claims of the manufacturers of bullet-proof glass.
14] Must have little or no life outside of work.

Thank you for your time and good luck in your search for the perfect employee. Oh, I am not applying for this job myself. Please note the lack of resume attached. The first five requirements I have no problem with. I’m also good with #7. After that, it’s hit or miss.

Backdrop to the Story

 

Darkness on a Sunny Day

I am a patch of darkness on a sunny day. A shadow pausing and posing at high noon. A candle snuffed out in a room full of candles. A light bulb missing on a string of lights. I am defined by what I am not. And I am not cheerful or hopeful or full of the milk of human kindness. 

Look at my mirror and see yourself. Hear my breathing and gasp for breathe. Smell the scent of my death in the air. Note the transient nature of my philosophy. Blink and I am gone. Blink and you are me. Blink and you’ve become. A patch of darkness on a sunny day.

It's. . .

It's.
The sound of defeat waffling in from the next room.
Or something.
The sound of my heart beating beneath a torn t-shirt.
Or something.
The sound of yesterday throwing sand in the face of tomorrow.
Or something.
Or nothing.

Onto the Rocks We Go

When a madman is at the wheel of the ship of state the future is always rocky.

Self-Censorship

Self-censorship is still a form of censorship; probably the most dangerous type.

If we stop ourselves from speaking the truth as we see it we make it easier for the forces of repression to deprive us of our rights as citizens.

If we don’t actively defend the Constitution it becomes a meaningless scrap of paper. Rights abandoned are rights lost.

There Was This Girl

There was this girl. Her eyes were the far side of the moon. Her hair was early evening rain. Her voice was dust and gravel. And when she moved my world stood still.

There was this girl. She was younger than I and twice my age. She asked for my name and number. She talked to me after class. And I walked her to her car in a happy daze.

There was this girl. She stole my time and filled my heart. She felt my hope and my longing. She read my face and knew I loved her. And I knew she would never love me back.

There was this man. He wrote poetry but not for her. He tried to forget her but never could. He punched a wall and bruised his hand. And it eventually healed or so he thought.

There was a time. When I thought the moon was possible. When I thought the rain was soothing. When I thought gravel was charming. And now I know meaning from metaphor.

There was this girl.  Her eyes were the far side of the moon. Her hair was early evening rain. Her voice was dust and gravel. And when she moved my world stood still. . .

I don't Troll

I don't troll and I don't get into arguments with people on Facebook no matter how disturbing I find some of the stuff I see posted there.

I may add as a general note that Donald J.Trump is a criminal and deserves to be in jail, Jesus said nothing whatsoever about abortion rights or gays in the military, the ownership of firearms does not cure sexual dysfunction, limiting immigration will not make the country safer or more prosperous, both racism and sexism are prominent features of American culture, what's good for Wall Street is not necessarily what's good for the USA, and the vast majority of fake news being generated in America and around the world these days comes from the right side of the political spectrum. . .

All I Remember

Imperfect love. A mildly amusing joke. A near masterpiece. A good likeness. A taste of eternity. A partially sunny day. A crescent moon. A hard fought draw. A moral victory. A gold-plated watch. Three kings and a jack. An awkward kiss. Heart felt ineloquence. Unexamined lives. That is all I remember. And that is what sustains me.

Everybody Loves You

Everybody loves you, Donald. Here is a list of other things I love: hemorrhoids, dental surgery, traffic jams, trees falling on my house, blue screens, dog shit, vomiting up dinner, lice, parking tickets, cutting myself shaving, throat cancer, colonoscopies, and beets.

Support the Troops

Republicans have never “supported” the troops. What they “support” is handing large amounts of public cash to military contractors for overpriced and unneeded weapons systems and then sending troops to fight and die on foreign soil in "support" of American business interests. How any of them can classify this as “supporting the troops” is a mystery to me.

Negated

YOU can graduate at the top of your class in school. You can study politics and public policy for years. You can stay up nights researching the candidates and the issues. ALL so you can try to make an educated, informed decision on who and what to vote for in November. BUT all of your education and intelligence and effort and sincere desire to do the right thing can be negated by a single bigoted no-nothing with a third grade education, a world view informed and constructed by the smiling cretins on Fox News, and a desire to screw over the misidentified causes of their own life failures and personal inadequacies. SUCH is the problem with American democracy.

Spin Proof

If the El Paso shooter was just a crazy person who wanted to kill strangers he could have stayed home and shot up the local Walmart, but that’s not what he did. He specifically drove two hundred miles so he could shoot up a Walmart frequented by people of color. He specifically went out of his way to kill brown people, a desire supported and encouraged by the racist rhetoric and policies of the President of the United States. Think about that for a second. It’s spin proof.

Normalization

Another mass shooting. We are not only desensitized to violence we are now desensitized to talking about it. What can you say that hasn’t been said before, all with little or no effect? New polls will be taken showing that a large portion of the American public is in favor of reasonable gun laws. Democrats in the House will pass a bill responding to their concerns, but Republicans in the Senate will kill it without debate or a vote. People will complain. Pundits will argue. Michael Moore will make a documentary. And life will go on business as usual until the next mass shooting. Then the entire frustrating cycle will repeat itself again.

There Is A Darkness

There is a darkness. A hollow space in every heart. Where fear incubates. And the better angels of our nature are banished.
It is there I find no solace. Drowning in deep water. Haunted by my farther’s ghost. It’s always “To be or not to be.”

There is a darkness. A empty air among the trees. Where silence echoes. And food for the soul leaves the forest famished.
It is there I find no solace. Tethered to the wounded earth. Decay filling my nostrils. A stranger to myself, a tented refugee.

There is a darkness. A black void between the stars. Where forces reign. And all trace of life and thought has vanished.
It is there I find no solace. Lost in the interstellar. A sparrow in Galileo’s eye. Sentient but alone in the wine dark sea.

I Searched for Love

I searched for love. . .

and all I found was Waldo.

Famous Lines From Jeffrey Dahmer

Famous lines from Jeffrey Dahmer:

“Tastes like chicken. Really, it does.”

“Parts is parts, but I like the naughty bits best.”

“Geez, officer, you act as though you’ve never seen a torso before.”

“Who the hell is Hannibal Lector and what the hell is kiante?”

“I’m a eroto-vegetarian. I don’t eat meat unless I’ve had sex with it first.”

"You use the word "cannibal" like it's a bad thing."

Trump at Ground Zero

"FOX News has uncovered this photo of Trump helping 9/11 victims at ground zero. Standing next to him in line as he passes out Big Macs and MAGA caps to survivors are Santa Claus, Big Foot, The Loch Ness Monster, George Washington, Howdy Doody, and the Alien from Area 51."

So. . .

So. . .

Mexico writes the U.S. government a postdated, out-of-state, third party check signed by Mexican Emperor Maximilian to pay for Trump’s border wall; and then laughs its collective ass off in Spanish.

Hearing the south of the border amusement our exalted Embarrassment-in-Chief slaps a tariff on poinsettia imports and nominates himself for the Nobel Peace Prize.

FOX News Channel announces the nomination, okays Sean Hannity's company health plan request for penis enlargement pills, and sacrifices a goat at the temple of the God of Misinformation.

AND all is well in America.

The GOPT

For two years I waited for the Republican leadership to rise up and take their party back from Trump. Then it occurred to me: they don’t want to take the party back. They like Trump. As long as they can use him to further their terrible legislative agenda, they don’t care what he does or says. Any party members who had any reservations about his lack of character or dishonesty are now dead or retired. There are no Republicans left with even a smidgen of conscience or honor. The Party of Lincoln is now the party of Trump; that is to say, the party of children in cages, white supremacy, Confederate fly waving, voter suppression, gerrymandered and stolen elections, tax cuts for the wealthy, religious intolerance, threats against political rivals, friendships with foreign dictators, military parades in peace time, nepotism and advancement of the incompetent, anti-science, anti-education, contempt for the rule of law, homophobia, misogyny, unrestricted access to firearms, school shootings, corporate personhood, rape and sexual deviance, early death from treatable illness, crumbling infrastructure, third grade level political discourse, deteriorating standards for water and air, rejection of Constitutional traditions and norms, open contempt for the press, attacks on the sick and handicapped, runaway military spending, skyrocketing national deficits and debt, and the use of nuclear weapons to threaten third world nations. Did I miss anything? This is the modern GOP. It is now the GOPT, the Grand Old Party of Trump. There’s nothing left to take back.

Yet Another of Our Exalted Leader's Failed Business Ventures. . .

“Trump’s Lemonade. It’s the best lemonade. $10.00 a cup. Cup not included. Contains no real lemons or citrus fruit. Purity of water cannot be verified. Illegal in Rhode Island, American Samoa, and parts of Southeast Asia. Drink at your own risk. May cause nausea and/or viral infections in rabbits and people allergic to rodent milk. Copy write pending.”

What's Really Important

I would trample on the American flag like it was a red carpet at the Oscars if my doing so would free just one child from a cage.

It’s time for some people to get their heads out of their asses and focus their attention on what’s really important. The systematic abuse of children is more worthy of public outrage than the mistreatment of a few threads of colored fabric.

I Am A Changeling Child

I am a changeling child, a creature of wind and the wild,
A dance in the moonlight and sunlight sometimes defiled.
I am a day in December, the crackle of a dying ember,
A moment soon forgotten and a last chance to remember.

I am an agnostic pilgrim, a former faith grown thin,
A quiet voice in your head and an unquiet deafening din.
I am a witch in the wood, a delver of shouldn’t and should,
A spell cast among the trees and the riddle of couldn’t and could.

I am the last notes of a song, an intruder who will never belong,
A dead soul among the living and a life gone horribly wrong.
I remain just outside the door, a defect in the heart’s deep core,
A questioner of answers and a believer only in God as metaphor.

I am a soul neither wicked or good, a perspective misunderstood,
A phantom among the trees hidden by cape and hood.
I am a prophet self-styled, a glimpse of a smile un-smiled,
A fairy circle refugee or so says this changeling child.