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Rob Paxton

Social Commentary and Satire, the likes of which you won't find elsewhere.

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5/30/18

My son and his family arrived from Budapest yesterday. I haven't seen my son in seven years, never hugged my daughter in law, or held my grandbabies in all that time.

 

So I'm taking the next couple of weeks off to spend time with them. I'll post sporadically, here and there, but you all know, there are some things more important than what I do here.

We are not so Divided

as a people that we do not grieve together at losing people we all admire. I'm emotionally struck by the fact that no matter one's political leanings, trump supporter or not, that we all are able to grieve together, as one, when someone we love, famous or not, suffers. There are indeed ties that bind us together, that transcend our own personal views on life. We celebrate birth together, we grieve together and in between, we work together, we fish, we shop, enjoy holidays, time with our families, all together as Americans. While we all hold our individual beliefs of what America is, or should be, those beliefs can never sever the ties that bind us all together, as a people, as Americans. There are those who disagree, who will continue their attempts to divide us, who will deride those of opposing views, and they will succeed to some degree, but I will say to them, your victories are short term, and passing. The ties that bind Americans together are those that shine the light through the darkest times. The American people will prevail.

Hey!

It's Memorial Day weekend.

Take a minute in between beers and burgers to remember what your day off is for. Give yourself 30 seconds to close your eyes, and contemplate all those resting in peace. They kind of deserve it.

 

 

I'm off through Wednesday, see you on the flip side.

On the blog

60

Before peace on earth, there was hell.

 

Strange, this work is over 25 years old, and looking back on it, I get why it never sold. But damn, I'm proud of it. Check out a sample, here.

Mythical Montana Dogman

High strangeness just stepped out of the thick Montana wild to be shot and killed by a local. Dogman, dogwolf or direworf, no one seems to know. I'm setting here thinking that no ones heard from Lon Chaney, Jr in quite a few years, so I'm up with that possibility. Then again, I'm struck by the fact, I've seen that dead snarl somewhere, and Dick Cheney comes to mind. How ever this mystery play out, it goes to show the wild is a huge place with thick forests and running streams encompassing a large area for strange beasts of all sorts to roam, play, and hide from us humans. Now, about all those big foot prints hunters keep coming across..

Short Fiction

With all the pieces laying around,

why is life so redundant?

GO!

Life as Chaos

My world, my life is chaotic, consisting of my elderly, failing mother, a son with Schizophrenia, and a younger son struggling with life in general. Social workers, doctors, psychiatrists, group homes, nurses, therapy workers, court officers all populate my contacts and there's not a day that goes by that I don't engage some of them. Some days, it's overbearing and at the end of such a day, I'll lay my head  on my pillow, stare at my ceiling, engulfed in despair and pity, and wonder how I'll survive.

 

Then I awake, coffee in hand, and come across a story about a young woman suffering with Cystic Fibrosis, and suddenly my problems seem minuscule in the scheme of life. I'm struck with an awareness there's still room in my heart for others, to feel for others, and that has to be a good thing.

 

But there's something else. Envy, maybe. I have friends whose lives are picture perfect, their children excel in school, their health is good, their world good and I often wonder if it all comes down to the flip of some cosmic coin? I don't know, but I do know this, I read a story about a Claire Wineland and her daily fight for her life, I find myself strangely contemplative about our lives, thinking that there's something more to all the suffering, the pain, that amid all the chaos, there are ties that bind us all together, regardless of what side of that coin flips for you. You deal with what comes your way, you fight to retain your empathy for others, because we're all in this together.

They Live Among Us

They've always been here, aliens from another world, biding their time, waiting to take over the world. Deep in the abyss of our oceans, they gather, plotting the fall and ruin of humanity. They are the octopus, multi armed, intelligent, and blessed with deceiving grace and stealth.

 

The war has begun, rent a sea going vessel, grab your fishing pole and join in on the war. They must not succeed. Their devious plot to cover the earth in rising oceans must be stopped.

Time as a Rock

Why are Scientists fucking with time? Time comes, it goes, it's here, it's there and I never have enough of the shit. Our people in lab coats have time down to a T. I mean their accuracy is within being off one second every 300 million years, and that ain't good enough. So for some reason they need to mine some rare earth mineral that no one else has a use for, lutetium, to set their atomic clocks. The thought is, they'll only be off a half second every 300 million years. Guess when I think about it, a half second is quite a bit. I could make a decision to do a shot of my favorite tequila in a half second, I could burn my toast, fall in love and maybe even fit time in for some sex. Then my wife had to go point out that it's a half second spread over a couple hundred million years, to which I said, that's still enough time for copulating.

 

And that's why I have a headache.

Shades of Sitchin

I'll be damned! Looks like Zecharia Sitchin might have been right. There might be a ninth planet, a huge planet, in a perpendicular orbit to ours. Hide your gold because mommy and daddy are coming home! For those not in the know, Nibiru was the ninth planet in our system, populated by the Anunnaki,  Sumerian Gods who came to earth way back when, and genetically mutated humans in order to work as slaves in their gold mining operations.

 

Of course, most respectable and professional scholars wrote him off as a fool, but I bet they're hiding their gold as I write. Who knows? But if they do show up, the only gold I have is in the one tooth I have left, and it's useless to me anyway.

The More Things Change

the more history comes to warn us of our old evil deeds. Of course, we don't listen. We fall into the deep sleep of complacency, smugly believing we got our shit together, that no one man could ever change our way of life. Then Bam, before you know it, King Zhou lives again canoing around in a lake of wine, socializing in a forest of roasted chicken, ordering his  acolytes to engage in deviant orgies, and burning his adversaries alive over the barrel of a hot smoking canon.

 

While it's an OK life if you're the king, for everyone else, life kinda sucks. BTW, if I were the king, I'd switch out the wine for tequila and anybody that pissed in my lake would suffer the hot canon shit, burned face down.

 

Destroyer of Worlds

Being intelligent is a strange and sad thing. Strange in that your smarter than most, but sad in that you're not smart enough to know when you're intelligence is killing you. Now I'm not a particularly religious man, but I do believe our dominance over the wild comes with certain responsibilities. One of those responsibilities is to act as caretakers for the world we share with other life forms. I'm guessing I'm in the minority with that, considering mankind has literally wiped out 83 percent of mammals and half the plant life. We are pretty good at keeping things around that we like though, like dogs, cats and cows, but that's probably because we don't do well in relationships and we like to eat. For a species that only makes up about a tenth of a percent of all life on earth, our dominance is leading us right down a path to a cold, barren world where we'll all be left alone with no one but each other, and that's a damn scary thought prospect.

Cleanliness is

next to godliness, or so I've heard, but when it comes to where we sleep, Chimps might be a bit closer than we are. Unless you put fresh linens on your bed every night, your dreams live along side dead skin, feces, saliva and a host of unseen mites that might turn those sweet dreams into a raging nightmare. When you think about it, our homes are a environmental micro system, a world we inhabit, unseen to us, but non the less a world of our own making. What's bothersome about it is, that we're dirtier than monkeys, so I'm guessing we lost something along the evolutionary way. Now, if you're like me, you haven't put fresh sheets on your bed for a month, so we all literally sleep in a cesspool of filth which is fine with me, asleep in a world of my own making.

Fairy Tale

I can't help but wonder what Americas fascination is with England's royal family. Christ, people I know actually set their alarms for 3.30 in the morning to watch. You'd think it's a real life fairy tale being played out live across the worlds stage, and maybe it is. Me? I've never cared much for fairy tales, and this ones been a pain in the ass. I've got nothing against pomp and circumstance but I'm reminded that we currently have a President who does, and I'm quite sure Trump is busy thinking how he can turn our fascination with the monarchy to his behalf, convincing the American people that a king would be better than a president. Those reading might thinks it's a fairy tale in Trumps mind, but I'm betting he's thinking long and hard about a way to open that dialogue up.

Damn Straight, There's

More.

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