When Facts Are Inconvenient Say Goodbye

You might call me baby or something far more colorful but you won’t call me forgettable. Won’t disagree with Gregg, I am no angel.

If you asked I might open the door and let you see darkness again and the light. Might take a walk through the kingdom and see the places where Jericho once looked out upon the valley below.

But then again maybe it is better to maintain distance and stay away from those that dance in the fire because it is far safer than wandering close to the flames, even when you know they won’t burn and will only warm.

There is a chain that links this to links that came in the days prior but only a few have ventured inside.

Something snapped the other day and I went looking for the sheeple determined to verbally batter a few into submission.

We did the dance and than something snapped again inside me and I remembered who I was arguing with and decided it was time.

When facts are inconvenient say goodbye.

They were for the others and so I did.


Take My Damn Hand

The demon showed up today and we did battle for hours.

For a little while I wondered how to find the strength to keep going and asked if there was a simple and effective exorcism.

I already knew the answer.

You can’t screw an old head on young shoulders.

I didn’t have to close my eyes to hear and see dad say it 0r to hear him remind me that if it took a few years to fall into a hole it is likely to take that long to climb back out.

But I am stubborn or maybe dumb and I screamed “climb on my back and I’ll carry you out.”

Instead of feeling weight on my back there was silence until I screamed again, “take my damn hand.”

It is a funny thing, asking someone to take your hand. Some people dare not because of a potential electrical shock and others because they haven’t figured out how to let go and accept help.


“What happens if I only have 25 years left? What if this the final run, one quarter century more?”

“Don’t think like that, you’ll head down a dark path.”

Forty-five years means you don’t have to be face-to-face to see the expression or understand the tone.

“Brother, you know I can’t not open Pandora’s Box and look inside. It is the only way I’ll find any peace and if the better move is to make big changes, well I have to plan some of it.”


The hardest part of fighting the demon is the whisper inside my head that says I ought to have to have seen him coming.

Had I recognized him before he got comfortable I might have been able to kick his ass and saved some heartache and trouble.

But I didn’t and whether I should have or could have done the other things matters not because we are where we are.

Cerberus guards his home now and I have to take a different approach.

I’d Rather Punch A Moose Or A Clown

Math and science are important and there is great merit in utilizing those tools and the wisdom of others to develop a solid strategy.

But if I am to be honest, I’d rather punch a moose or a clown, maybe both.

Rather drop the facade and get a chance to get real, instead I listen to this and let my mind travel.

If I wanted to I could take you with me, if not in person, than by words on the page. I could paint the picture and weave the tapestry that would give you access.

You’d see a thing or two but today isn’t that day and not because I haven’t yet punched a moose or a clown.

Nor have buried my knuckles in the ample gut of a country bumpkin with a straw hat, truck and a JD.

Nah, today is a different day and on this different day there is nothing but the sound of the midnight rider.

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